Happy New Year!
The name says it all, folks. I am on my way out the door at work, having taken off Friday so I could avoid the mad rush of drunken louts on public transportation to New York City on New Year's Eve. So I will not be back online until next Tuesday, at the earliest - and by then it will already be 2005!
So Happy New Years, baby!
Thursday, December 30, 2004
Wednesday, December 29, 2004
New Year's Resolutions
Every year, you hear countless people making new resolutions for the new year, promising to lose those 20 pounds, quit smoking, go to the gym more...yadda yadda yadda... and I've never been one of those people. I figure that if you're going to make a life change, then you're going to do it. If you're not, you're not. You don't need a special day to motivate you (unless, I've been told, your wedding date is looming near and you simply must fit into your size 6 dress - whatever that obsession is about!).
However, as 2005 quickly approaches, I find myself making more to-do lists than usual. And the odd thing is that some of the things on my list are the prototypical New Year's happy-go-splat resolution-type deals: go to the gym more, no more self-pity, etc. Honestly, Christmas takes so much out of your average adult that you no longer have time to take care of the details during the month of December. So my gym membership fell to the wayside, and my job search all but disappeared, and my social life simply went "kaput!" and a cloud of smoke appeared where my friends used to be.
For me, I realize that 2004 has been a tiresome year. I'm quite happy to see it go, and am looking forward to working towards some loftier goals in 2005. Even something as simple as working out at the gym is getting an overhaul. I've decided to take up some yoga this year; as I've never been the most flexible woman (technically speaking here, I would wager that most men are more flexible than I!), I think it would be nice to get some good stretching time into my day. Especially now as my body is beginning to age, and certain deficiencies are beginning to show: like getting shin splints when I run, and actually being sore for days after a workout (hmmm, methinks me body is telling me to warm up first...). So, there's that. I am going to become an early-AM, power-bar inhaling, water-guzzling, fanatical yoga queen!
My other big "resolution" (if you want to call it that) is to really put some major effort into my job search. My friends Mark and Toni sent me a really wonderful email earlier this month about career hunting and lending me some emotional support, and it's really inspired me to try harder. My several-pronged plan is to make up several resumes and send them out to all book publishing job openings; to make an appointment with the agency downstairs in my building who find people temporary to permanent jobs in a field of their choice; to prepare for and take the U.S. Department of State foreign service exam; and to apply to the Columbia University Publishing Course, which is a six-week program that starts in June 2005.
I think my 2005 is off to a racing start, don't you?
Every year, you hear countless people making new resolutions for the new year, promising to lose those 20 pounds, quit smoking, go to the gym more...yadda yadda yadda... and I've never been one of those people. I figure that if you're going to make a life change, then you're going to do it. If you're not, you're not. You don't need a special day to motivate you (unless, I've been told, your wedding date is looming near and you simply must fit into your size 6 dress - whatever that obsession is about!).
However, as 2005 quickly approaches, I find myself making more to-do lists than usual. And the odd thing is that some of the things on my list are the prototypical New Year's happy-go-splat resolution-type deals: go to the gym more, no more self-pity, etc. Honestly, Christmas takes so much out of your average adult that you no longer have time to take care of the details during the month of December. So my gym membership fell to the wayside, and my job search all but disappeared, and my social life simply went "kaput!" and a cloud of smoke appeared where my friends used to be.
For me, I realize that 2004 has been a tiresome year. I'm quite happy to see it go, and am looking forward to working towards some loftier goals in 2005. Even something as simple as working out at the gym is getting an overhaul. I've decided to take up some yoga this year; as I've never been the most flexible woman (technically speaking here, I would wager that most men are more flexible than I!), I think it would be nice to get some good stretching time into my day. Especially now as my body is beginning to age, and certain deficiencies are beginning to show: like getting shin splints when I run, and actually being sore for days after a workout (hmmm, methinks me body is telling me to warm up first...). So, there's that. I am going to become an early-AM, power-bar inhaling, water-guzzling, fanatical yoga queen!
My other big "resolution" (if you want to call it that) is to really put some major effort into my job search. My friends Mark and Toni sent me a really wonderful email earlier this month about career hunting and lending me some emotional support, and it's really inspired me to try harder. My several-pronged plan is to make up several resumes and send them out to all book publishing job openings; to make an appointment with the agency downstairs in my building who find people temporary to permanent jobs in a field of their choice; to prepare for and take the U.S. Department of State foreign service exam; and to apply to the Columbia University Publishing Course, which is a six-week program that starts in June 2005.
I think my 2005 is off to a racing start, don't you?
Tuesday, December 28, 2004
Post Christmas Post
I don't have much time now that the Board has switched over and the final accountings are due for 2004 at work, but I'm taking a quick mid-morning snack break for sanity.
While for most of you the Christmas season is finally over (or Channukah, etc.), mine is ongoing. Anthony and I are celebrating our own Christmas on New Year's Eve. I even sent him home to New York with the fiber optics Christmas tree at 2AM on Monday morning (by the way, it wasn't my idea for him to leave at that time of day - he claimed he couldn't sleep and didn't want his car/baby to be hurt in the millimeter snowfall we had that evening).
However, we did spend our Christmas holiday with his family, down in North Carolina. Unlike most of the schlepps who tried flying USAirways this past week, I and my luggage made it to my scheduled destination, if not on time, at least eventually. My newfound Christmas spirit even let me forgive the child who kicked my seat for the hour on the ground and the hour in the air (although I still agree with my parents concept of not taking your children out of the house to torture other people).
I spent 4 days and 4 nights in Charlotte, gorging myself on Christmas treats. Everyone and their mom came out to give me presents, and there were lots of tears to be had due to the thoughtfulness of my golden boy, Anthony. Overall, it was a wonderful trip...
Okay, I don't really have time for details. I must run, off to do the accounting!
I don't have much time now that the Board has switched over and the final accountings are due for 2004 at work, but I'm taking a quick mid-morning snack break for sanity.
While for most of you the Christmas season is finally over (or Channukah, etc.), mine is ongoing. Anthony and I are celebrating our own Christmas on New Year's Eve. I even sent him home to New York with the fiber optics Christmas tree at 2AM on Monday morning (by the way, it wasn't my idea for him to leave at that time of day - he claimed he couldn't sleep and didn't want his car/baby to be hurt in the millimeter snowfall we had that evening).
However, we did spend our Christmas holiday with his family, down in North Carolina. Unlike most of the schlepps who tried flying USAirways this past week, I and my luggage made it to my scheduled destination, if not on time, at least eventually. My newfound Christmas spirit even let me forgive the child who kicked my seat for the hour on the ground and the hour in the air (although I still agree with my parents concept of not taking your children out of the house to torture other people).
I spent 4 days and 4 nights in Charlotte, gorging myself on Christmas treats. Everyone and their mom came out to give me presents, and there were lots of tears to be had due to the thoughtfulness of my golden boy, Anthony. Overall, it was a wonderful trip...
Okay, I don't really have time for details. I must run, off to do the accounting!
Tuesday, December 21, 2004
Sleigh bells ring - are you listening?
What a beautiful (much more live-able) winter day in Philadelphia! Winter is the only time of year I can delude myself into thinking that cities aren't big havens for air pollution, noise pollution, light pollution,etc... For once, the air is crisp and clear - I can even see all the way across the street to the next high-rise building...
Although I really do miss my middle-of-nowhere roots of Clinton, MA, on days like today. We're so close to Christmas and the people of Philadelphia are as cheerless as ever. It's a wonder that they ever adopted City mottos of "The City of brotherly love" and now "The City that loves you back." It is such a visually and viscerally unappealing city.
Then again, nearly all cities are unappealing to me. Some day I'm going to have to find me a job out in the country, where I don't feel like I'm stuck in some dead-end waitressing job and where you can see all the stars at night.
Anthony is happier than a pig in guano (although "guano" is specifically from our winged friends, I would like to make some sort of leap in judgement here) now that he is back in rural Charlotte, NC - I got a phone call at 3AM in testament of that; he let me know that he could, "see all the stars in the sky - at least much more than in New York." Sometimes I am riddled with sheer amazement that he and I can have so many of the same characteristics at times - my first realization that I missed home is also when I get there and take a look at the sky. There's hardly any light pollution (comparatively) in my home town.
For that and so many other reasons I look forward to settling someday in a quiet, backwoods kind of area. Not Clinton, exactly, but somewhere not too far away from home, I think. With each passing year, I realize more and more that I would rather be closer to my family than not - even if we're not exactly of that family mold that MUST speak to one another at least five times a day...
So, like I said, Anthony is a pretty happy momma's boy right now, milking his homestay for all it's worth. He hasn't sounded this deliriously happy in a while...
What a beautiful (much more live-able) winter day in Philadelphia! Winter is the only time of year I can delude myself into thinking that cities aren't big havens for air pollution, noise pollution, light pollution,etc... For once, the air is crisp and clear - I can even see all the way across the street to the next high-rise building...
Although I really do miss my middle-of-nowhere roots of Clinton, MA, on days like today. We're so close to Christmas and the people of Philadelphia are as cheerless as ever. It's a wonder that they ever adopted City mottos of "The City of brotherly love" and now "The City that loves you back." It is such a visually and viscerally unappealing city.
Then again, nearly all cities are unappealing to me. Some day I'm going to have to find me a job out in the country, where I don't feel like I'm stuck in some dead-end waitressing job and where you can see all the stars at night.
Anthony is happier than a pig in guano (although "guano" is specifically from our winged friends, I would like to make some sort of leap in judgement here) now that he is back in rural Charlotte, NC - I got a phone call at 3AM in testament of that; he let me know that he could, "see all the stars in the sky - at least much more than in New York." Sometimes I am riddled with sheer amazement that he and I can have so many of the same characteristics at times - my first realization that I missed home is also when I get there and take a look at the sky. There's hardly any light pollution (comparatively) in my home town.
For that and so many other reasons I look forward to settling someday in a quiet, backwoods kind of area. Not Clinton, exactly, but somewhere not too far away from home, I think. With each passing year, I realize more and more that I would rather be closer to my family than not - even if we're not exactly of that family mold that MUST speak to one another at least five times a day...
So, like I said, Anthony is a pretty happy momma's boy right now, milking his homestay for all it's worth. He hasn't sounded this deliriously happy in a while...
Monday, December 20, 2004
Every mile is two in winter. - George Herbert (1593 - 1633)
Of course I would forget my hat - it's friggin' cold out there today!!! My weatherman says it's about 10 degrees outside, but it "feels like" -9. Yowsa!
I guess I wouldn't mind so much if at least it was snowing outside. All it did yesterday was rain, and now there's this cold front - but no snow! Excuse me, Mother Nature, but I would like to request a white Christmas please...
In other news...Anthony lived through The Muppet Christmas Carol, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, and Dr. Seuss's How the Grinch Stole Christmas this weekend (with only a few complaints). That only leaves A Christmas Carol and It's a Wonderful Life, two Christmas classics that will have to wait until I get to North Carolina on Wednesday. (And he's also promised to go to the theatre for Polar Express... mwahahahahahaa!)
Of course, Anthony left for Charlotte yesterday at the crack of 8AM - he thought his flight was at noonish so we were very lucky to get him out the door on time for his much-earlier-than-noonish canceled flight. Oh yes, canceled. Just like the second flight on which he got rescheduled was canceled. But fear not!, the third time's the charm... He actually made it into Charlotte only about an hour later than originally planned. Lucky dog!
I have nothing else to report, as I managed to completely miss Jimmy's annual Christmas party (sorry babe!), so I will wander off into my own little Office Space...
Of course I would forget my hat - it's friggin' cold out there today!!! My weatherman says it's about 10 degrees outside, but it "feels like" -9. Yowsa!
I guess I wouldn't mind so much if at least it was snowing outside. All it did yesterday was rain, and now there's this cold front - but no snow! Excuse me, Mother Nature, but I would like to request a white Christmas please...
In other news...Anthony lived through The Muppet Christmas Carol, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, and Dr. Seuss's How the Grinch Stole Christmas this weekend (with only a few complaints). That only leaves A Christmas Carol and It's a Wonderful Life, two Christmas classics that will have to wait until I get to North Carolina on Wednesday. (And he's also promised to go to the theatre for Polar Express... mwahahahahahaa!)
Of course, Anthony left for Charlotte yesterday at the crack of 8AM - he thought his flight was at noonish so we were very lucky to get him out the door on time for his much-earlier-than-noonish canceled flight. Oh yes, canceled. Just like the second flight on which he got rescheduled was canceled. But fear not!, the third time's the charm... He actually made it into Charlotte only about an hour later than originally planned. Lucky dog!
I have nothing else to report, as I managed to completely miss Jimmy's annual Christmas party (sorry babe!), so I will wander off into my own little Office Space...
Friday, December 17, 2004
Kitty STDs
It appears that my friend Andrew got his panties in a tizzy over the mention of feline Chlamydia from my last post. While I amuse myself greatly by calling Otto "Chlamydia face," feline Chlamydia is actually only a form of conjunctivitis. It is not an STD. Otto's sexual function has long since been taken away...
It appears that my friend Andrew got his panties in a tizzy over the mention of feline Chlamydia from my last post. While I amuse myself greatly by calling Otto "Chlamydia face," feline Chlamydia is actually only a form of conjunctivitis. It is not an STD. Otto's sexual function has long since been taken away...
Thursday, December 16, 2004
Cat Update
So, "little kitty, big balls" (as Anne has kindly named the stray due to his not being neutered yet) and Gunner are duking it out for the right to be King. They have now crapped on the bathroom floor, on the rug outside of the bathroom, pissed on Ada's skirt, sprayed the entrance carpeting, and peed in my basket of scarves. That is on top of "little kitty, big balls" giving Otto Chlamydia and him and Gunner being treated for upper repiratory problems. You would think that soemone's head would explode (i.e. "someone" = me), but so far I've taken it very well, I think.
I used to live in Vincent's house on 13th Street, which, if none of you visited or remember, used to be the kitty pee mecca of the Western world. Before I had even moved in, Daisy had a UTI which caused her to piddle everywhere except in the litter box. Vince never had the carpets cleaned, so that meant that Daisy and Chi-Chi (once he moved in) urinated wherever they felt like it, because the whole house smelled like a litter box.
And I can see the two-story apartment as litterbox theory emerging here, but my hopes are up. It looks as though "little kitty, big balls" will be heading off into the great wide yonder on Friday. Vandra has agreed to adopt him and as the medication is running down for the respiratory problems, it's time to say goodbye. So, very much like the children in The Sound of Music, I will sing chorus after chorus of, "So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, good night..."
And where is my Christmas spirit, you ask? Well, my friends, it seems to have dimmed somewhat when I looked at the temperature today and discovered that it was 17 degrees outside and most of my scarves now smell like cat piss. (Oh, what is that you say? You hear that can put a damper on things...? How right you are!)
In other news, Anthony will be here to regale me with his presence tomorrow. We have a whole day and a half to watch all the Christmas movies he can stand! He promises to be enthusiastic, but he may be looking for the nearest exit after several versions of The Christmas Carol... mwahahahahahahahahahaaaa!
So, "little kitty, big balls" (as Anne has kindly named the stray due to his not being neutered yet) and Gunner are duking it out for the right to be King. They have now crapped on the bathroom floor, on the rug outside of the bathroom, pissed on Ada's skirt, sprayed the entrance carpeting, and peed in my basket of scarves. That is on top of "little kitty, big balls" giving Otto Chlamydia and him and Gunner being treated for upper repiratory problems. You would think that soemone's head would explode (i.e. "someone" = me), but so far I've taken it very well, I think.
I used to live in Vincent's house on 13th Street, which, if none of you visited or remember, used to be the kitty pee mecca of the Western world. Before I had even moved in, Daisy had a UTI which caused her to piddle everywhere except in the litter box. Vince never had the carpets cleaned, so that meant that Daisy and Chi-Chi (once he moved in) urinated wherever they felt like it, because the whole house smelled like a litter box.
And I can see the two-story apartment as litterbox theory emerging here, but my hopes are up. It looks as though "little kitty, big balls" will be heading off into the great wide yonder on Friday. Vandra has agreed to adopt him and as the medication is running down for the respiratory problems, it's time to say goodbye. So, very much like the children in The Sound of Music, I will sing chorus after chorus of, "So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, good night..."
And where is my Christmas spirit, you ask? Well, my friends, it seems to have dimmed somewhat when I looked at the temperature today and discovered that it was 17 degrees outside and most of my scarves now smell like cat piss. (Oh, what is that you say? You hear that can put a damper on things...? How right you are!)
In other news, Anthony will be here to regale me with his presence tomorrow. We have a whole day and a half to watch all the Christmas movies he can stand! He promises to be enthusiastic, but he may be looking for the nearest exit after several versions of The Christmas Carol... mwahahahahahahahahahaaaa!
Wednesday, December 15, 2004
I can't believe it's only Wednesday.
Yesterday I bought a humidifier for George (a.k.a. simple house plant that Ryan feels the need to name - "I'm gonna love him and hug him and name him George," says the Abominable Snowman to Bugs Bunny in Looney Toons) and it turns out that I bought a cool mist humidifier. So what that means to me is that my room is now about the same temperature as it is outside, replete with the requisite breeze from the little fan on top of the filter. Oh, and the outside temperature? A whopping 35 degrees (Fahrenheit), although with the 14mph winds it feels like 26 (or so says my weather webpage).
On top of that, I purchased a string of Christmas lights for George, and after dropping a few branches - which by the way will never grow back - it now looks like I've strangled the poor thing. What a loving plant mommy I turned out to be.
So on Friday Anthony no longer gets to enjoy a nice evening of peace and comfort in the warm throes of my orange room. Instead he gets to have his nether regions turn into icicles whilst he unplugs the stupid humidifier and drags it back to CVS to exchange it for a warm mist model. And he also gets to help me get my Christmas ornaments and the like out of storage, and drop off a bunch of Vincent's things at the house on 13th Street. And he even gets to take me grocery shopping! Will the fun never end???
Yesterday I bought a humidifier for George (a.k.a. simple house plant that Ryan feels the need to name - "I'm gonna love him and hug him and name him George," says the Abominable Snowman to Bugs Bunny in Looney Toons) and it turns out that I bought a cool mist humidifier. So what that means to me is that my room is now about the same temperature as it is outside, replete with the requisite breeze from the little fan on top of the filter. Oh, and the outside temperature? A whopping 35 degrees (Fahrenheit), although with the 14mph winds it feels like 26 (or so says my weather webpage).
On top of that, I purchased a string of Christmas lights for George, and after dropping a few branches - which by the way will never grow back - it now looks like I've strangled the poor thing. What a loving plant mommy I turned out to be.
So on Friday Anthony no longer gets to enjoy a nice evening of peace and comfort in the warm throes of my orange room. Instead he gets to have his nether regions turn into icicles whilst he unplugs the stupid humidifier and drags it back to CVS to exchange it for a warm mist model. And he also gets to help me get my Christmas ornaments and the like out of storage, and drop off a bunch of Vincent's things at the house on 13th Street. And he even gets to take me grocery shopping! Will the fun never end???
Tuesday, December 14, 2004
Christmas is coming...
Christmas is coming
The goose is getting fat
Please to put a penny in the old man's hat
If you haven't got a penny
A ha'penny will do
If you haven't got a ha'penny
God bless you...
So, we're ringing in the new round of holidays with songs from seasons past. I distinctly remember all the words to this song (above), despite the fact that the last time I sang it in concert was sometime in middle school.
Anyway.
As of today, I am completely finished with Christmas shopping and am on to Christmas wrapping. My family's gifts were all delivered by Thanksgiving, but it is the rest of you schmucks that took all this time to buy for. Well, actually, it isn't really so much your fault as it is the fault of the system that keeps me employed, but only pays me enough to barely cover my credit card bill these days. I now have to space out my holiday spending...which is something I don't think I have had to do since I was young, maybe even too young to remember.
Although I did finally get a tree, my friends. With all of Vincent's former rants about live Christmas trees being a terrible thing, and Anthony and Corinne's "Bah Humbug!" spirit, I bought a Norfolk Island Pine yesterday. These trees are native to Austrailia and New Zealand, and in their home environment grow to be about 100 feet tall. However, when kept as indoor trees in a planter, they grow to about 6 feet. My tree, George, is currently a 2 1/2 foot wonder. Today I plan on getting him a humidifier and some Christmas lights. He will be beautiful...!
Last night I also initiated my kind of Christmas season by watching the first of a whole series of Christmas movies! Vincent dropped off some CDs for me while he was in town and I talked him into a little bit of Frosty the Snowman. So I have had a half-hour taste of what my holidays will be like... Anthony, watch out! You are in for a whole slew of movies...Muppet Christmas Carol, A Christmas Carol with George C. Scott, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, Dr. Seuss's How the Grinch Stole Christmas, It's a Wonderful Life....all the Ryan-proof classics. And now that he has a cold (although he will insist he is well), I will be forcing him to sit down, relax, and do nothing but eat, drink, watch movies and be merry like Christmas!!!!
Christmas is coming
The goose is getting fat
Please to put a penny in the old man's hat
If you haven't got a penny
A ha'penny will do
If you haven't got a ha'penny
God bless you...
So, we're ringing in the new round of holidays with songs from seasons past. I distinctly remember all the words to this song (above), despite the fact that the last time I sang it in concert was sometime in middle school.
Anyway.
As of today, I am completely finished with Christmas shopping and am on to Christmas wrapping. My family's gifts were all delivered by Thanksgiving, but it is the rest of you schmucks that took all this time to buy for. Well, actually, it isn't really so much your fault as it is the fault of the system that keeps me employed, but only pays me enough to barely cover my credit card bill these days. I now have to space out my holiday spending...which is something I don't think I have had to do since I was young, maybe even too young to remember.
Although I did finally get a tree, my friends. With all of Vincent's former rants about live Christmas trees being a terrible thing, and Anthony and Corinne's "Bah Humbug!" spirit, I bought a Norfolk Island Pine yesterday. These trees are native to Austrailia and New Zealand, and in their home environment grow to be about 100 feet tall. However, when kept as indoor trees in a planter, they grow to about 6 feet. My tree, George, is currently a 2 1/2 foot wonder. Today I plan on getting him a humidifier and some Christmas lights. He will be beautiful...!
Last night I also initiated my kind of Christmas season by watching the first of a whole series of Christmas movies! Vincent dropped off some CDs for me while he was in town and I talked him into a little bit of Frosty the Snowman. So I have had a half-hour taste of what my holidays will be like... Anthony, watch out! You are in for a whole slew of movies...Muppet Christmas Carol, A Christmas Carol with George C. Scott, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, Dr. Seuss's How the Grinch Stole Christmas, It's a Wonderful Life....all the Ryan-proof classics. And now that he has a cold (although he will insist he is well), I will be forcing him to sit down, relax, and do nothing but eat, drink, watch movies and be merry like Christmas!!!!
Monday, November 22, 2004
I am considering closing down my blog now after two years. I've actually stuck to writing in this weblog longer than I've ever staid with any one career. Now that's what you would call "irony."
Maybe I'm just tired of writing about my life in so public a format, or maybe I'm finally giving in to my own rhetoric about the bastardization of the English language through the use of technology, but no matter what, I know that I am tired of feeling compelled to write on a website that I don't know anyone reads (other than my Masshole, occasionally Yael, and my Mom). It would be just as easy, and a lot more personal, if I just took to handwriting letters to the two or three "readers" I have.
I don't know, we'll see.
In other news, my roommate Corinne took home a stray cat over the weekend. Yup, my apartment is now bedecked with FOUR cats. While I do think that it is incredibly benevolent of her to be actively protecting the lives of our furry little friends, I don't remember being asked if I wanted to turn into a crazy cat lady. And the potential for diseases, fleas, etc., etc., is huge. Even with isolating the kitty in our bathroom, that still leaves us all (including the three cats) open to contamination. I hate to be a hard-hearted, evil crust of a human being, but the kitty needs to go! Corinne promises me she will be on the phone today looking for a shelter for the kitty, but Anthony and I are making bets as to when the cat will actually be out of the house. Any takers?
I also just celebrated my 25th birthday. For most of my friends, who tend to be in the above-30 bracket, that means nothing, but for me, it means I survived a quarter of a century! We celebrated quietly, with a subdued dinner at Mr. Martino's Trattoria in South Philadelphia - Mark even threw in a free bottle of Martinelli's Cider as a gift. Most of the gang was there: Jason, Jimmy, Lisa, Erik, Tom, Javier, Corinne, and Vince (Anthony was delayed due to work, but made up for it the rest of the weekend)... It was good to see everyone sober.
I didn't do anything else all weekend. Anthony made me breakfast two days in a row and we also shared some special romantic time in the apartment on Saturday afternoon; I watched a bunch of Netflix movies; Derek Lee, his girlfriend Kat, and JJ came out to visit me on Sunday afternoon; and Anthony treated me to dinner at Friday, Saturday, Sunday last night (and I just finished the leftovers for lunch today). All in all, it was pretty quiet. Which is exactly the way I wanted it.
And now, there is nothing else I have to say. I'm still looking for that great next job, and planning for the holidays...
Maybe I'm just tired of writing about my life in so public a format, or maybe I'm finally giving in to my own rhetoric about the bastardization of the English language through the use of technology, but no matter what, I know that I am tired of feeling compelled to write on a website that I don't know anyone reads (other than my Masshole, occasionally Yael, and my Mom). It would be just as easy, and a lot more personal, if I just took to handwriting letters to the two or three "readers" I have.
I don't know, we'll see.
In other news, my roommate Corinne took home a stray cat over the weekend. Yup, my apartment is now bedecked with FOUR cats. While I do think that it is incredibly benevolent of her to be actively protecting the lives of our furry little friends, I don't remember being asked if I wanted to turn into a crazy cat lady. And the potential for diseases, fleas, etc., etc., is huge. Even with isolating the kitty in our bathroom, that still leaves us all (including the three cats) open to contamination. I hate to be a hard-hearted, evil crust of a human being, but the kitty needs to go! Corinne promises me she will be on the phone today looking for a shelter for the kitty, but Anthony and I are making bets as to when the cat will actually be out of the house. Any takers?
I also just celebrated my 25th birthday. For most of my friends, who tend to be in the above-30 bracket, that means nothing, but for me, it means I survived a quarter of a century! We celebrated quietly, with a subdued dinner at Mr. Martino's Trattoria in South Philadelphia - Mark even threw in a free bottle of Martinelli's Cider as a gift. Most of the gang was there: Jason, Jimmy, Lisa, Erik, Tom, Javier, Corinne, and Vince (Anthony was delayed due to work, but made up for it the rest of the weekend)... It was good to see everyone sober.
I didn't do anything else all weekend. Anthony made me breakfast two days in a row and we also shared some special romantic time in the apartment on Saturday afternoon; I watched a bunch of Netflix movies; Derek Lee, his girlfriend Kat, and JJ came out to visit me on Sunday afternoon; and Anthony treated me to dinner at Friday, Saturday, Sunday last night (and I just finished the leftovers for lunch today). All in all, it was pretty quiet. Which is exactly the way I wanted it.
And now, there is nothing else I have to say. I'm still looking for that great next job, and planning for the holidays...
Friday, November 19, 2004
Monday, November 15, 2004
Andrew and I spent Saturday night discovering just how low my tolerance for alcohol has really become. Three drinks into our delicately planned evening of sin and debauchery at the eighth annual Fetish Ball and I was already hammered. On Andrew's suggestion, when we left the Ball we headed out to Woody's, one of the premier destinations in the gay-berhood. And we called Anthony to come pick up the pieces.
All day Sunday was ruined for me - ruined I say! The kind of day I had was yet another reminder of why I hardly ever drink anymore. I slept on and off until four in the afternoon, in the hopes of outwitting my hangover, but silly me! My hangover must have lifted sometime during Sunday night, while I was attempting sleep again. And today I feel like I didn't sleep at all while some little sprite beat my body all over with a tiny, sprite-sized baseball bat. Ugh.
So for my birthday this weekend, just like I had originally planned, your favorite girl named Ryan will not be partaking of the alcoholic variety. As the owner of Mr. Martino's promised me a free bottle of Martinelli's Cider for my birthday, I will be partaking of that slightly bubbly beverage instead.
Enough said. I have to go pretend I can make it through Seventy's monthly Board Meeting. Good times had by all, I swear.
All day Sunday was ruined for me - ruined I say! The kind of day I had was yet another reminder of why I hardly ever drink anymore. I slept on and off until four in the afternoon, in the hopes of outwitting my hangover, but silly me! My hangover must have lifted sometime during Sunday night, while I was attempting sleep again. And today I feel like I didn't sleep at all while some little sprite beat my body all over with a tiny, sprite-sized baseball bat. Ugh.
So for my birthday this weekend, just like I had originally planned, your favorite girl named Ryan will not be partaking of the alcoholic variety. As the owner of Mr. Martino's promised me a free bottle of Martinelli's Cider for my birthday, I will be partaking of that slightly bubbly beverage instead.
Enough said. I have to go pretend I can make it through Seventy's monthly Board Meeting. Good times had by all, I swear.
Tuesday, November 09, 2004
It's just another day in the office. I have a terrible headache, and have had it since I woke up this morning, so I am in no mood to do any work today. Unfortunately, an office of 3 isn't exactly the kind of situation in which you can totally slack off. People tend to notice things like me trying to catch up on sleep underneath my desk and other such stuff.
Yesterday I had the treat of some lunatic coming into my office and wanting to break into a board meeting so she could get the address of the law library. She thought the meeting sounded too "friendly" - as if that is a reason for her to be rude and interrupt the meeting.
No matter, I got rid of her after a half hour and now it's Tuesday. And it's 30 degrees outside. Yesterday I thought it was cold as I was walking to the gym, but this morning I felt like my head was going to freeze and then crack open (remember the headache?). Not so pleasant.
So what have I been up to lately, eh? Corinne (really, I was barely involved) held a Halloween party at our apartment, at which I only spent an hour before attempting to go to sleep (the elections had me working weeks straight, with no days off). Let me note the key word there: "attempting." At some point, for whatever reason, the party moved from the spacious upstairs living space to the stairwell outside my bedroom door. And drunk people are not quiet so I ended up being awake until about 2AM when I sent poor Anthony out to be my Enforcer. I was so pissed off (mostly due to the fact that I had work in the morning).
Other than that, the past few weeks have been devoted entirely to the elections process here in Philadelphia, where it was my job to organize a crew of volunteers, prepare them for their nonpartisan pollwatching activities, and then loose them on Philadelphia on November 2nd. What a pain in the ass! Need I say more?
This year we had the largest volunteer turnout we've had in the past 30 years or so, which is probably enough to say that it's the largest group of people we've had in the institution's history! I had no idea what I was doing, nor do I now really understand what happened, but it's all over now so I am attempting to recover. I still don't think I've caught up on sleep, and I may potentially be coming down with a cold but I'm fighting it every step of the way like the little hellcat I am.
Last weekend was my first few days off in a while. Just for spite (or perhaps because I really deserved it), I took off Friday as well. So, on Friday, I went to a spa and treated myself to 3 hours of pampering. Anthony had given me this spa certificate when I finished rafting the Grand Canyon (how sweet!), so I returned the favor and got him a drool-filled hour and a half aromatherapy massage (Swedish!). It was his first professional massage ever! (Oddly enough, after practicing for so many years on my mom's feet, I gave Anthony his first first massage - period.) I was so happy to provide him with something so special...
Then we spent the rest of the weekend in NYC, where I did nothing but eat, sleep and watch movies. We saw "Capturing the Friedmans," "Bob Le Flambeur," "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas," most of "The Fellowship of the Ring," and then went to the theatre with hundreds of squirmy little children to see "The Incredibles." Oh how I love lazy weekends where my boyfriend cooks for me!
The only other thing to report is the upcoming events (in the case that you're paying attention and actually want to know): this weekend is the Fetish Ball and, as a birthday gift to me, my friend Andrew is purchasing a ticket for me - last time I went as a naughty schoolgirl and Andrew once went as a priest, what will we think of next?; the following weekend is my birthday and my friend Derek Lee is coming into town to see family so we get to play!; Thanksgiving at my mommy's brand spankin' new house in MA with Anthony; Christmas in North Carolina, and a winter's end visit from the lovely Christy!
What fun!
Yesterday I had the treat of some lunatic coming into my office and wanting to break into a board meeting so she could get the address of the law library. She thought the meeting sounded too "friendly" - as if that is a reason for her to be rude and interrupt the meeting.
No matter, I got rid of her after a half hour and now it's Tuesday. And it's 30 degrees outside. Yesterday I thought it was cold as I was walking to the gym, but this morning I felt like my head was going to freeze and then crack open (remember the headache?). Not so pleasant.
So what have I been up to lately, eh? Corinne (really, I was barely involved) held a Halloween party at our apartment, at which I only spent an hour before attempting to go to sleep (the elections had me working weeks straight, with no days off). Let me note the key word there: "attempting." At some point, for whatever reason, the party moved from the spacious upstairs living space to the stairwell outside my bedroom door. And drunk people are not quiet so I ended up being awake until about 2AM when I sent poor Anthony out to be my Enforcer. I was so pissed off (mostly due to the fact that I had work in the morning).
Other than that, the past few weeks have been devoted entirely to the elections process here in Philadelphia, where it was my job to organize a crew of volunteers, prepare them for their nonpartisan pollwatching activities, and then loose them on Philadelphia on November 2nd. What a pain in the ass! Need I say more?
This year we had the largest volunteer turnout we've had in the past 30 years or so, which is probably enough to say that it's the largest group of people we've had in the institution's history! I had no idea what I was doing, nor do I now really understand what happened, but it's all over now so I am attempting to recover. I still don't think I've caught up on sleep, and I may potentially be coming down with a cold but I'm fighting it every step of the way like the little hellcat I am.
Last weekend was my first few days off in a while. Just for spite (or perhaps because I really deserved it), I took off Friday as well. So, on Friday, I went to a spa and treated myself to 3 hours of pampering. Anthony had given me this spa certificate when I finished rafting the Grand Canyon (how sweet!), so I returned the favor and got him a drool-filled hour and a half aromatherapy massage (Swedish!). It was his first professional massage ever! (Oddly enough, after practicing for so many years on my mom's feet, I gave Anthony his first first massage - period.) I was so happy to provide him with something so special...
Then we spent the rest of the weekend in NYC, where I did nothing but eat, sleep and watch movies. We saw "Capturing the Friedmans," "Bob Le Flambeur," "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas," most of "The Fellowship of the Ring," and then went to the theatre with hundreds of squirmy little children to see "The Incredibles." Oh how I love lazy weekends where my boyfriend cooks for me!
The only other thing to report is the upcoming events (in the case that you're paying attention and actually want to know): this weekend is the Fetish Ball and, as a birthday gift to me, my friend Andrew is purchasing a ticket for me - last time I went as a naughty schoolgirl and Andrew once went as a priest, what will we think of next?; the following weekend is my birthday and my friend Derek Lee is coming into town to see family so we get to play!; Thanksgiving at my mommy's brand spankin' new house in MA with Anthony; Christmas in North Carolina, and a winter's end visit from the lovely Christy!
What fun!
Friday, October 01, 2004
Wednesdays at the Ritz
Did I tell you about Wednesdays at the Ritz? Each Wednesday night, I send out an evite to all my Philly-area friends and invite them to see a different movie at the Ritz Theatres (one of the best things about Philly is that it's main theatre houses are indie/foreign venues).
That being said, this past Wednesday we went to see John Waters newest journey into depravity, A Dirty Shame. I haven't really made up my mind about the movie. Like most Waters flicks, it reeks of campiness so you have to appreciate it from that angle at least. But the acting is always poor, and the dialogue here seemed more than a little contrived. Of course, there was a certain scene in a nursing home that made me simultaneously want to crawl under the seat in front of me and curl up into the fetal position, and laugh until I couldn't cry anymore...
Well, whatever. If you've liked Waters past films, then you'll likely enjoy this one. Most of the people in the theatre thought everything was hysterical - I'm just a little more cynical than the average bear.
The Job
So, not only am I working about five different jobs (in an office of three people, where there is a PR guy - i.e. the Executive Director, a writer - i.e. the Research Director, and me, I end up being the secretary, office manager, intern/volunteer coordinator, accounts payable, payroll, etc.), but now the concept of living from paycheck to paycheck is taking on a whole new meaning.
Each week we are one step closer to bankruptcy. And me, being the financial guru that I am (or that I am paid to be anyway) - I have discovered the one, inescapable truth: I never know if I will be paid. That's right folks. Because we are a nonprofit and depend upon the kindness of others to pay our bills and payroll, and because we have no money coming in, I don't know where my next paycheck is coming from. In two weeks time, I could be living on the streets.
So now I have the lovely task of finding another job because I don't want the stress of figuring out how I am going to pull my paycheck out of my tush. With all that is going on in my life lately - with moving, with Anthony, with work - it's going to become that much more hectic if I start an all-out job search.
But if that's what I gotta do, then that's what I gotta do. Wish me luck! Or send me your best contacts... (either/or really)
The Boy(toy)
Alright, I told him he wasn't my boy toy, but I know he'll get a laugh out of that one. If you haven't spoken to me in a while or don't pay attention to anything I say, here it is in print: I'm dating a very fantastic, kind-hearted gentleman named Anthony. We initially met in the New York Office of Diplomatic Security, right near the end of my time there. He was very shy, but somehow we staid in touch (and I cured him of his shyness too - if you don't believe me, just ask him about playing spin-the-bottle on the roof of my last apartment with my Philly friends). In any case, after Vince and I broke up, we started seeing each other. I have no idea what day you would consider our first "date," but we've been seeing each other for about 4 months now (that is, when he's not in the Sudan or Greece, fighting crime like the super hero he is). And although I'm not going into too much detail here, suffice to say that he makes me happy. To quote Anthony, "Very much so." (I am sure there are still one or two State Department people who read my Blog, and I've been avoiding getting the word out in my old office, but if they see this, they see this.)
The End is in sight...
Okay, so I'm really supposed to be working on the financial report for the Committee of Seventy right now, but I haven't been able to concentrate all day. As we get closer to the election, more and more phone calls come in, from increasingly crazy people. I actually had one lady call me yesterday and tell me I am racist because I told her she wasn't actually a member of the Committee. Ridiculous, I tell you!
In any case, that is neither here nor there. And I should be getting back.
Did I tell you about Wednesdays at the Ritz? Each Wednesday night, I send out an evite to all my Philly-area friends and invite them to see a different movie at the Ritz Theatres (one of the best things about Philly is that it's main theatre houses are indie/foreign venues).
That being said, this past Wednesday we went to see John Waters newest journey into depravity, A Dirty Shame. I haven't really made up my mind about the movie. Like most Waters flicks, it reeks of campiness so you have to appreciate it from that angle at least. But the acting is always poor, and the dialogue here seemed more than a little contrived. Of course, there was a certain scene in a nursing home that made me simultaneously want to crawl under the seat in front of me and curl up into the fetal position, and laugh until I couldn't cry anymore...
Well, whatever. If you've liked Waters past films, then you'll likely enjoy this one. Most of the people in the theatre thought everything was hysterical - I'm just a little more cynical than the average bear.
The Job
So, not only am I working about five different jobs (in an office of three people, where there is a PR guy - i.e. the Executive Director, a writer - i.e. the Research Director, and me, I end up being the secretary, office manager, intern/volunteer coordinator, accounts payable, payroll, etc.), but now the concept of living from paycheck to paycheck is taking on a whole new meaning.
Each week we are one step closer to bankruptcy. And me, being the financial guru that I am (or that I am paid to be anyway) - I have discovered the one, inescapable truth: I never know if I will be paid. That's right folks. Because we are a nonprofit and depend upon the kindness of others to pay our bills and payroll, and because we have no money coming in, I don't know where my next paycheck is coming from. In two weeks time, I could be living on the streets.
So now I have the lovely task of finding another job because I don't want the stress of figuring out how I am going to pull my paycheck out of my tush. With all that is going on in my life lately - with moving, with Anthony, with work - it's going to become that much more hectic if I start an all-out job search.
But if that's what I gotta do, then that's what I gotta do. Wish me luck! Or send me your best contacts... (either/or really)
The Boy(toy)
Alright, I told him he wasn't my boy toy, but I know he'll get a laugh out of that one. If you haven't spoken to me in a while or don't pay attention to anything I say, here it is in print: I'm dating a very fantastic, kind-hearted gentleman named Anthony. We initially met in the New York Office of Diplomatic Security, right near the end of my time there. He was very shy, but somehow we staid in touch (and I cured him of his shyness too - if you don't believe me, just ask him about playing spin-the-bottle on the roof of my last apartment with my Philly friends). In any case, after Vince and I broke up, we started seeing each other. I have no idea what day you would consider our first "date," but we've been seeing each other for about 4 months now (that is, when he's not in the Sudan or Greece, fighting crime like the super hero he is). And although I'm not going into too much detail here, suffice to say that he makes me happy. To quote Anthony, "Very much so." (I am sure there are still one or two State Department people who read my Blog, and I've been avoiding getting the word out in my old office, but if they see this, they see this.)
The End is in sight...
Okay, so I'm really supposed to be working on the financial report for the Committee of Seventy right now, but I haven't been able to concentrate all day. As we get closer to the election, more and more phone calls come in, from increasingly crazy people. I actually had one lady call me yesterday and tell me I am racist because I told her she wasn't actually a member of the Committee. Ridiculous, I tell you!
In any case, that is neither here nor there. And I should be getting back.
Friday, September 24, 2004
For those of you who didn't receive my mass email about voting stuff, here are a few links that might whet your whistle:
Just Vote - voter registration information, no matter what state you live in
Project Vote Smart - breakdown of candidate and elected official information
George Bush's official website
Kerry/Edwards campaign site
Nader for President site
Federal Elections Commission
Cake Club New York's Political Coverage - a club I belong to that is very pro-woman, and therefore anti-Bush
My friend Erin's website - awesome site for pro-Democratic coverage
And, of course, the lovely place where I work, The Committee of Seventy.
Just Vote - voter registration information, no matter what state you live in
Project Vote Smart - breakdown of candidate and elected official information
George Bush's official website
Kerry/Edwards campaign site
Nader for President site
Federal Elections Commission
Cake Club New York's Political Coverage - a club I belong to that is very pro-woman, and therefore anti-Bush
My friend Erin's website - awesome site for pro-Democratic coverage
And, of course, the lovely place where I work, The Committee of Seventy.
Thursday, September 16, 2004
It is supposed to rain for the next week straight and since my desk is located right next to a window displaying a grey, grimy, rain-sodden day, I am in no mood whatsoever to get any work done. (Any excuse would do really...)
So I just returned from an AWESOME vacation down on the River Kwai. Actually, it was the Colorado River - you know, the one that runs through Grand Canyon (Vince will be so proud that I didn't use "the"). If you fail to recall anything about me, then I tell you now that this is the white water rafting trip that Vincent and I planned a year or so ago when we were still dating. It was one of those things that we just forced ourselves to pay for before we could protest.
And I am so happy we did it...
We spent one night in Las Vegas before the start of our outdoor adventure, and for once it was well worth the price of admission, if only to come home with a picture of Michelle as a Borg from the Star Trek Experience at the Hilton. Now if she ever chooses to defy me, I will dedicate a site to the hairless Borg, Michelle! Mwhahahahahahahaaaa...!
Unfortunately, even though Mel (yet another college roommate of mine) was also in Las Vegas that weekend, we didn't manage to meet up, mostly due to the fact that I am an old lady trapped in a 24-year-old body who needs to regulate her sleep and be in bed by the crack of sunset....
In any case, Vincent and I flew out to Marble Canyon on Sunday, September 5th, in the smallest plane I've ever ridden (with one minor exception: the initial flying lesson Vincent gave me in a Cesna last year). The plane was one of those "into the brush" type of planes, where you actually have to wear earphones to block the noise out.
Of course, being so 'ittle, the views out the window were SPECTACULAR. We flew right over Marble Canyon, and sometimes it looked as though we were inside of it. I'm not really sure I could point out our route on a map, but when we landed, we were on a dirt strip in the middle of the desert with nothing but a one-horse town to greet us.
We were staying at the Marble Canyon Lodge, which for all intents and purposes was the only housing facility in sight. There was one general store, one restaurant, one gas station/convenience store, one post office, and one lodge/conference center. That was it. As far as the eye could see, nothing but red desert and mountains in the distance.
It seemed like the only people, other than various rafters, paddlers, kayakers and the like, that were staying at the Lodge were bikers. So it was us and the leather-clad, sun-branded, tatooed men and women of the Harley Davidson clan. I thought it was kind of odd that, of all the places in the world to travel, some bikers found themselves on this lonely stretch of road, in the middle of nowhere, AZ. It all reaked of confusion to me...
No matter. We met our fellow Outdoors Unlimited travelers and guides later that evening. In total, there were 23 of us: a family of 3 from New Jersey, 2 couples from Michigan, 3 coworkers from Utah, 1 couple from Kansas, 2 ladies from New Hampshire, 7 guides from Oregon and Northern California, and 1 stag from Sterling frickin' Massachusetts! (I still can't get over someone on that trip being from the next town over from my home town - unreal!)
Now, if I had my DSL working yet, I would have pictures for you all to view, but honestly, I just got back from vacation, still haven't settled my apartment yet, and DEFINITELY haven't had time to set up my computer.
So, back to day one on the river. By some time later in the day on Monday, the 6th, we finally donned our bulky, awkward, yellow life vests and put our boats into the water. Vince and I were on the one paddle boat with the couple from Kansas (Hunter and Alex dropped out of the trip at the last minute - I'm guessing it's because they broke up and Hunter went ahead and married another girl (who incidentally, was 7 months pregnant at the time of the trip with Hunter's baby)), but there were 5 oar boats on the trip too. Two boats were for gear - kitchen stuff, toilets, trash, sleeping bags, tents, etc. - and the other three for passengers. The difference between the two kinds of boats are that paddle boats are smaller, lighter and powered by 6 individual paddlers, while the oar boats have two huge wooden oars and are powered by a single guide.
I must admit that I am very proud of Vince. First for even electing to go on the paddle boat, second for toughing it out in nature without complaint, and third for actually having a good time! He only fell out of the boat once during the whole trip, thus becoming our one and only inaugeral swimmer, and he was totally into the paddling portion of the whole trip. It was nice to see him out-of-doors not whining about ticks, or mosquitos, or poison ivy, or sleeping on the ground, or pain, or anything. He actually fit in with the whole serenity of nature karma.
Before I go on, I should probably point out that I am not going to fill in all the details of EVERY WAKING MOMENT on my blog, but if you want an alternate view, you can always look at Vince's website.
Anywho...
So there were five days floating/paddling down the river. I can't really explain to you what happens to an individual once they travel out into nature like that. We didn't run into any other people for any significant periods of time, and we turned into some sort of (dys)functional family. There is no noise pollution, no light pollution, no 7-Eleven. Just you, your portable toilet (really a green ammo can with a toilet seat fitted on top), and all the golf-ball sized bats nature can throw at you. It's magical to me that there are any places on earth like that left anymore.
Vince and I even had a little routine: up at 5:30AM, dress for the day, pack the waterproof bags, eat breakfast, wash up, white-water rafting, eat lunch, white-water rafting, hiking, write in our journals, eat dinner, go to sleep. It really was living life simply.
Of course, life isn't without it's foibles. I began drinking so much water during the day that the paddle boat should have been renamed the "piddle" boat. Every hour (at least) I had to ask Robyn (the paddle boat guide) to pull to shore for a pee break. We'd go all forward and paddle like crazy people to hit a beach because I was wearing paddle paints, which meant that I could piddle in them, but then I would have to sit in a puddle of my own urine for the rest of the day (i.e. the pants are waterproof - both inside and out). It turned into the big group joke - me and my pea-sized bladder, a genetic defect thanks to my lovely mother.
Although in my defense, I will say that everyone who rafted with me for the day (there were plenty of spots open so people could switch boats each day) was happy that we made so many potty stops. I think that most people were afraid to stand tall, stand proud, and declare, "I must piddle, NOW!"
And thus concludes the potty talk portion of my blog...
In fact, that concludes today's portion of my Blog. I have many, many things to accomplish today and here I am, wasting my time talking to myself! I will write later, if I can...
So I just returned from an AWESOME vacation down on the River Kwai. Actually, it was the Colorado River - you know, the one that runs through Grand Canyon (Vince will be so proud that I didn't use "the"). If you fail to recall anything about me, then I tell you now that this is the white water rafting trip that Vincent and I planned a year or so ago when we were still dating. It was one of those things that we just forced ourselves to pay for before we could protest.
And I am so happy we did it...
We spent one night in Las Vegas before the start of our outdoor adventure, and for once it was well worth the price of admission, if only to come home with a picture of Michelle as a Borg from the Star Trek Experience at the Hilton. Now if she ever chooses to defy me, I will dedicate a site to the hairless Borg, Michelle! Mwhahahahahahahaaaa...!
Unfortunately, even though Mel (yet another college roommate of mine) was also in Las Vegas that weekend, we didn't manage to meet up, mostly due to the fact that I am an old lady trapped in a 24-year-old body who needs to regulate her sleep and be in bed by the crack of sunset....
In any case, Vincent and I flew out to Marble Canyon on Sunday, September 5th, in the smallest plane I've ever ridden (with one minor exception: the initial flying lesson Vincent gave me in a Cesna last year). The plane was one of those "into the brush" type of planes, where you actually have to wear earphones to block the noise out.
Of course, being so 'ittle, the views out the window were SPECTACULAR. We flew right over Marble Canyon, and sometimes it looked as though we were inside of it. I'm not really sure I could point out our route on a map, but when we landed, we were on a dirt strip in the middle of the desert with nothing but a one-horse town to greet us.
We were staying at the Marble Canyon Lodge, which for all intents and purposes was the only housing facility in sight. There was one general store, one restaurant, one gas station/convenience store, one post office, and one lodge/conference center. That was it. As far as the eye could see, nothing but red desert and mountains in the distance.
It seemed like the only people, other than various rafters, paddlers, kayakers and the like, that were staying at the Lodge were bikers. So it was us and the leather-clad, sun-branded, tatooed men and women of the Harley Davidson clan. I thought it was kind of odd that, of all the places in the world to travel, some bikers found themselves on this lonely stretch of road, in the middle of nowhere, AZ. It all reaked of confusion to me...
No matter. We met our fellow Outdoors Unlimited travelers and guides later that evening. In total, there were 23 of us: a family of 3 from New Jersey, 2 couples from Michigan, 3 coworkers from Utah, 1 couple from Kansas, 2 ladies from New Hampshire, 7 guides from Oregon and Northern California, and 1 stag from Sterling frickin' Massachusetts! (I still can't get over someone on that trip being from the next town over from my home town - unreal!)
Now, if I had my DSL working yet, I would have pictures for you all to view, but honestly, I just got back from vacation, still haven't settled my apartment yet, and DEFINITELY haven't had time to set up my computer.
So, back to day one on the river. By some time later in the day on Monday, the 6th, we finally donned our bulky, awkward, yellow life vests and put our boats into the water. Vince and I were on the one paddle boat with the couple from Kansas (Hunter and Alex dropped out of the trip at the last minute - I'm guessing it's because they broke up and Hunter went ahead and married another girl (who incidentally, was 7 months pregnant at the time of the trip with Hunter's baby)), but there were 5 oar boats on the trip too. Two boats were for gear - kitchen stuff, toilets, trash, sleeping bags, tents, etc. - and the other three for passengers. The difference between the two kinds of boats are that paddle boats are smaller, lighter and powered by 6 individual paddlers, while the oar boats have two huge wooden oars and are powered by a single guide.
I must admit that I am very proud of Vince. First for even electing to go on the paddle boat, second for toughing it out in nature without complaint, and third for actually having a good time! He only fell out of the boat once during the whole trip, thus becoming our one and only inaugeral swimmer, and he was totally into the paddling portion of the whole trip. It was nice to see him out-of-doors not whining about ticks, or mosquitos, or poison ivy, or sleeping on the ground, or pain, or anything. He actually fit in with the whole serenity of nature karma.
Before I go on, I should probably point out that I am not going to fill in all the details of EVERY WAKING MOMENT on my blog, but if you want an alternate view, you can always look at Vince's website.
Anywho...
So there were five days floating/paddling down the river. I can't really explain to you what happens to an individual once they travel out into nature like that. We didn't run into any other people for any significant periods of time, and we turned into some sort of (dys)functional family. There is no noise pollution, no light pollution, no 7-Eleven. Just you, your portable toilet (really a green ammo can with a toilet seat fitted on top), and all the golf-ball sized bats nature can throw at you. It's magical to me that there are any places on earth like that left anymore.
Vince and I even had a little routine: up at 5:30AM, dress for the day, pack the waterproof bags, eat breakfast, wash up, white-water rafting, eat lunch, white-water rafting, hiking, write in our journals, eat dinner, go to sleep. It really was living life simply.
Of course, life isn't without it's foibles. I began drinking so much water during the day that the paddle boat should have been renamed the "piddle" boat. Every hour (at least) I had to ask Robyn (the paddle boat guide) to pull to shore for a pee break. We'd go all forward and paddle like crazy people to hit a beach because I was wearing paddle paints, which meant that I could piddle in them, but then I would have to sit in a puddle of my own urine for the rest of the day (i.e. the pants are waterproof - both inside and out). It turned into the big group joke - me and my pea-sized bladder, a genetic defect thanks to my lovely mother.
Although in my defense, I will say that everyone who rafted with me for the day (there were plenty of spots open so people could switch boats each day) was happy that we made so many potty stops. I think that most people were afraid to stand tall, stand proud, and declare, "I must piddle, NOW!"
And thus concludes the potty talk portion of my blog...
In fact, that concludes today's portion of my Blog. I have many, many things to accomplish today and here I am, wasting my time talking to myself! I will write later, if I can...
Thursday, August 19, 2004
It feels like winter in my office today and I already turned the A/C off, but I guess that's just a reminder that I shouldn't attempt to wear capris to work anymore and I should seriously consider wearing more long-sleeved shirts to work. But for the time being, I suppose I will just have to deal.
So let's talk about the movie I saw last night: Napoleon Dynamite. What a weird flick. First of all, I didn't know there was such a thing as MTV Films, and I'm not sure if I really want to embrace any more of their feature-length efforts. Well, that's being a little harsh especially since I must admit that the dance sequence is worth the price of admission (hey, I still live in a city where I can go to the movies on a Wednesday night for $5.50, so HA!).
In any case, the movie features Napoleon Dynamite, some dysfunctional kid from Idaho, and the whole movie reads akin to this:
Don : Hey, Napoleon. What did you do last summer again?
Napoleon Dynamite : I told you! I spent it with my uncle in Alaska hunting wolverines!
Don : Did you shoot any?
Napoleon Dynamite : Yes, like 50 of 'em! They kept trying to attack my cousins, what the heck would you do in a situation like that?
Don : What kind of gun did you use?
Napoleon Dynamite : A freakin' 12-gauge, what do you think?
Granted, you almost have to see the way it's acted, so I guess my overall rating is: Walk, don't run, to your second-run movie theatre...
So, what else is going on in the wonderful, wacky world of Ryan? Well, I am moving to my new apartment next Wednesday, which means that my life now exists in boxes and/or in packing them. This weekend Corinne and I are hosting round 2 of the sidewalk sale, which is to say that Corinne might actually be lightening the load on the Mambo Movers' backs by selling all her books, clothing, furniture, and bags for a discounted price to any freak or drunk who walks down 9th Street for a Pat's or Geno's steak all day on Saturday...whew!
We will probably also be hitting up the paint store this weekend in search for those perfect shades of yellow, pink and orange to paint our respective rooms (and the kitchen! - try to guess which color goes with whom). On Tuesday we've invited all the world (or the limited world of Philadelphia-area friends and family) to come join us in our paint-a-thon. We've offered them hours of entertainment in the form of a BYO, with take-out pizza, and multi-colored paint brushes. If they're really lucky, they can also clean our apartment! Woo-hoo! (Would you believe that more people in my life are willing to come watch me paint than to join me for a fun evening at the movie theatre? Sometimes life can be so wonderfully weird.)
And that's about it in my life. Anthony comes home from the Olympics at the end of the month (but not soon enough), and then I start counting down the days, hours and minutes to my trip to the Grand Canyon (a lifelong dream of mine) with Vincent! Hopefully, after all that happens, life will settle down to a low rumble and I will be able to re-adjust myself to a new life in Philadelphia before heading off to the Dominican Republic with Jimmy in November (instead of Where's Waldo?, you guys will all be playing some version of Where's Ryan in the next few months). It'll be nice to sit back and relax for a change - you know, I even typed that with a straight face, as if I really am the kind of person who knows how to sit back and relax...ha!
Anywho. It's been really great talking to you, but I'm afraid I have to run back to my cave now. Looking forward to Autumn weather (damn the humidity!)...
So let's talk about the movie I saw last night: Napoleon Dynamite. What a weird flick. First of all, I didn't know there was such a thing as MTV Films, and I'm not sure if I really want to embrace any more of their feature-length efforts. Well, that's being a little harsh especially since I must admit that the dance sequence is worth the price of admission (hey, I still live in a city where I can go to the movies on a Wednesday night for $5.50, so HA!).
In any case, the movie features Napoleon Dynamite, some dysfunctional kid from Idaho, and the whole movie reads akin to this:
Don : Hey, Napoleon. What did you do last summer again?
Napoleon Dynamite : I told you! I spent it with my uncle in Alaska hunting wolverines!
Don : Did you shoot any?
Napoleon Dynamite : Yes, like 50 of 'em! They kept trying to attack my cousins, what the heck would you do in a situation like that?
Don : What kind of gun did you use?
Napoleon Dynamite : A freakin' 12-gauge, what do you think?
Granted, you almost have to see the way it's acted, so I guess my overall rating is: Walk, don't run, to your second-run movie theatre...
So, what else is going on in the wonderful, wacky world of Ryan? Well, I am moving to my new apartment next Wednesday, which means that my life now exists in boxes and/or in packing them. This weekend Corinne and I are hosting round 2 of the sidewalk sale, which is to say that Corinne might actually be lightening the load on the Mambo Movers' backs by selling all her books, clothing, furniture, and bags for a discounted price to any freak or drunk who walks down 9th Street for a Pat's or Geno's steak all day on Saturday...whew!
We will probably also be hitting up the paint store this weekend in search for those perfect shades of yellow, pink and orange to paint our respective rooms (and the kitchen! - try to guess which color goes with whom). On Tuesday we've invited all the world (or the limited world of Philadelphia-area friends and family) to come join us in our paint-a-thon. We've offered them hours of entertainment in the form of a BYO, with take-out pizza, and multi-colored paint brushes. If they're really lucky, they can also clean our apartment! Woo-hoo! (Would you believe that more people in my life are willing to come watch me paint than to join me for a fun evening at the movie theatre? Sometimes life can be so wonderfully weird.)
And that's about it in my life. Anthony comes home
Anywho. It's been really great talking to you, but I'm afraid I have to run back to my cave now. Looking forward to Autumn weather (damn the humidity!)...
Monday, August 16, 2004
I saw two movies yesterday and I wanted to take the last five minutes I have at work to tell you about them:
Zatoichi: The Blind Swordsman - an excellent film! Especially if you love that certain segment of Japanese samurai film where the blood flies Kill-Bill-esque everytime someone gets cut, and there is a lot of subtle humor. Okay, sometimes it is not so subtle, but it is still funny. Quote to live your life by: "Even with my eyes wide open I can't see a thing."
Maria Full of Grace - a solid drama piece about one Columbian woman's story of becoming a drug mule. Of course, if you are like me and get motion-sickness from shaky camera work, then this film isn't for you. Otherwise, it's a nice, sobering flick. Feels like: Jewel, "Who will save your soul if you won't save your own?"
Happy hunting!
Zatoichi: The Blind Swordsman - an excellent film! Especially if you love that certain segment of Japanese samurai film where the blood flies Kill-Bill-esque everytime someone gets cut, and there is a lot of subtle humor. Okay, sometimes it is not so subtle, but it is still funny. Quote to live your life by: "Even with my eyes wide open I can't see a thing."
Maria Full of Grace - a solid drama piece about one Columbian woman's story of becoming a drug mule. Of course, if you are like me and get motion-sickness from shaky camera work, then this film isn't for you. Otherwise, it's a nice, sobering flick. Feels like: Jewel, "Who will save your soul if you won't save your own?"
Happy hunting!
Tuesday, August 10, 2004
There isn't much to say today, but I didn't want to leave all you loyal followers out in the cold. Granted, I don't really believe I have any loyal followers, but I was always a big fan of the game "Pretend" so you'll just have to humor me (oh wait, who am I talking to?).
In any case, Anthony is still in a land far, far away, and I am still in Philadelphia (whew! Nothing has changed yet). However, I will be moving across town in a few short weeks so if you still love me and want to pretend you're going to send me a birthday card in a few months, you can always ask me for my new address. Otherwise, I will send out the info as I see fit in a month or so.
This next bit is mostly for my mom, but if anyone cares, they can continue too: So I just bought some bedding for the new bachelorette pad. You can go online and view it all at Pottery Barn - it's the Emily Duvet (floral) and the Multi-Stripe Quilt. They're simply fantastic! And I am painting my room "osage orange" because Corinne tells me that Mandarin will be much too dark/bright. Then add to that my five miles of desk and bookcases and you've got a happy-go-lucky Ryan room! I haven't decided yet if I am going to paint all my furniture white or not, but I'm waiting to see how the walls come out to make that decision. So that's my interior designer story...
I have also been making multiple vacation plans lately. As you all (HA!) already know, I am going on that Grand Canyon rafting trip with Vincent in September, but I am also planning a long weekend in Ireland in October with Anthony and his mom, a Dominican Republic trip with (my gay boyfriend) Jimmy in November, a trip home for Thanksgiving, and possibly a trip to visit my friend Chris in the Czech Republic over Christmas.
That last vacation is a little spotty at best, but I am crossing my fingers and hoping! The others are all set in stone at this point. Vince and I have tickets to Zumanity in Las Vegas for the night of our arrival, and a hotel of course. Then we're off to the Canyon the next day, where I can laugh at his unathletic ability for a week!
Anthony is taking care of booking my flight for Ireland, so my memory is all I have to serve me on this one. I believe it is the first weekend in October and we will be traveling to Dublin. My goal is to convince my friend Darwin to drive down to visit us. It's been much too long since I last saw him!
The DR trip was just settled, for the most part, last night over a few beers and some mac n' cheese at the Royal Tavern. Jimmy and I are going on a free vacation he won in a radio contest to Punta Cana, at the Bavara Princess Resort where everything is all-inclusive. It will be my first trip to the Caribbean so I am very enthusiastic about the whole thing! I can't wait to hang out with Jimmy for five days nonstop too!!!!
Okay, I am sick of my own exclamation points now. I know how excited traveling gets me, but I really need to tame it down a bit. On top of that, I really should go because work is over - yes, indeedy - and I need to meet Corinne for our usual walk home.
So, the advice of the day: go home - you can always procrastinate tomorrow!
In any case, Anthony is still in a land far, far away, and I am still in Philadelphia (whew! Nothing has changed yet). However, I will be moving across town in a few short weeks so if you still love me and want to pretend you're going to send me a birthday card in a few months, you can always ask me for my new address. Otherwise, I will send out the info as I see fit in a month or so.
This next bit is mostly for my mom, but if anyone cares, they can continue too: So I just bought some bedding for the new bachelorette pad. You can go online and view it all at Pottery Barn - it's the Emily Duvet (floral) and the Multi-Stripe Quilt. They're simply fantastic! And I am painting my room "osage orange" because Corinne tells me that Mandarin will be much too dark/bright. Then add to that my five miles of desk and bookcases and you've got a happy-go-lucky Ryan room! I haven't decided yet if I am going to paint all my furniture white or not, but I'm waiting to see how the walls come out to make that decision. So that's my interior designer story...
I have also been making multiple vacation plans lately. As you all (HA!) already know, I am going on that Grand Canyon rafting trip with Vincent in September, but I am also planning a long weekend in Ireland in October with Anthony and his mom, a Dominican Republic trip with (my gay boyfriend) Jimmy in November, a trip home for Thanksgiving, and possibly a trip to visit my friend Chris in the Czech Republic over Christmas.
That last vacation is a little spotty at best, but I am crossing my fingers and hoping! The others are all set in stone at this point. Vince and I have tickets to Zumanity in Las Vegas for the night of our arrival, and a hotel of course. Then we're off to the Canyon the next day, where I can laugh at his unathletic ability for a week!
Anthony is taking care of booking my flight for Ireland, so my memory is all I have to serve me on this one. I believe it is the first weekend in October and we will be traveling to Dublin. My goal is to convince my friend Darwin to drive down to visit us. It's been much too long since I last saw him!
The DR trip was just settled, for the most part, last night over a few beers and some mac n' cheese at the Royal Tavern. Jimmy and I are going on a free vacation he won in a radio contest to Punta Cana, at the Bavara Princess Resort where everything is all-inclusive. It will be my first trip to the Caribbean so I am very enthusiastic about the whole thing! I can't wait to hang out with Jimmy for five days nonstop too!!!!
Okay, I am sick of my own exclamation points now. I know how excited traveling gets me, but I really need to tame it down a bit. On top of that, I really should go because work is over - yes, indeedy - and I need to meet Corinne for our usual walk home.
So, the advice of the day: go home - you can always procrastinate tomorrow!
Monday, August 02, 2004
Despite mother nature's little joke of giving me a sunburn on my arse while I was wearing 30 SPF, I had a really nice weekend with Corinne, Vincent and Christian at the Shore. The weather was beautiful, the ocean was the warmest I remember it being since I was a wee one, and, perhaps most importantly, I saw my kitties!!
Just because I know you are wondering, as you often do you little ponderer you!, Daisy and Chi-Chi are doing well. Vincent has managed not to kill them and to keep them relatively happy, fed and well-hydrated. Granted, Chi-Chi only comes out from under the bed for feeding time and poopie time (although, as we found out, he sometimes only makes it halfway down the ladder/stairs for poopie time), but that's really no different from when we lived in New York. Both of the kitties love being at the dock, and coming outside to explore the deck. For two lifelong housekitties, this has been quite the adventure!
Well, in other-than-kitty news, we had quite a relaxing weekend - except for the late nights, of course. Corinne and I were wined (or more specifically, cider-ed) and dined at Smith's Dock (not to mention "Dairy Queen!!!!"); regaled with sun, waves and a nice cool breeze on the beach; entertained for hours on end by two drunk boys; lost at the amusement park rides on the Wildwood piers (yes, my team of four literally LOST me - twice!); and then reduced to a near catatonic state by remaining in our pajamas watching TIVO from the pull-out sofa bed on Sunday morning/afternoon during the rainstorm.
To make my weekend a rousing success, Vincent agreed to drive Corinne and I home and on the way we stopped to see The Village at the Ritz 16 in Voorhees and then Friendly's for my Reese's Peanutbutter Cup sundae!!! Woo-hooooo!!!!!!!!!!!
So that was generally it. It felt good to see Vincent again and work on our friendship - and I am happy that Corinne and Vincent were able to visit with one another too. Of course, it goes without saying (but I don't want feelings hurt so here goes...) that I had a wonderful time seeing Christian as well!
The only thing that has happened since then is that today is my first paid day of work at the Committee of Seventy. It's amazing - Ryan has a job!! Which, if she wants to keep it, she should get back to pretending she's doing it...gotta love me...
Just because I know you are wondering, as you often do you little ponderer you!, Daisy and Chi-Chi are doing well. Vincent has managed not to kill them and to keep them relatively happy, fed and well-hydrated. Granted, Chi-Chi only comes out from under the bed for feeding time and poopie time (although, as we found out, he sometimes only makes it halfway down the ladder/stairs for poopie time), but that's really no different from when we lived in New York. Both of the kitties love being at the dock, and coming outside to explore the deck. For two lifelong housekitties, this has been quite the adventure!
Well, in other-than-kitty news, we had quite a relaxing weekend - except for the late nights, of course. Corinne and I were wined (or more specifically, cider-ed) and dined at Smith's Dock (not to mention "Dairy Queen!!!!"); regaled with sun, waves and a nice cool breeze on the beach; entertained for hours on end by two drunk boys; lost at the amusement park rides on the Wildwood piers (yes, my team of four literally LOST me - twice!); and then reduced to a near catatonic state by remaining in our pajamas watching TIVO from the pull-out sofa bed on Sunday morning/afternoon during the rainstorm.
To make my weekend a rousing success, Vincent agreed to drive Corinne and I home and on the way we stopped to see The Village at the Ritz 16 in Voorhees and then Friendly's for my Reese's Peanutbutter Cup sundae!!! Woo-hooooo!!!!!!!!!!!
So that was generally it. It felt good to see Vincent again and work on our friendship - and I am happy that Corinne and Vincent were able to visit with one another too. Of course, it goes without saying (but I don't want feelings hurt so here goes...) that I had a wonderful time seeing Christian as well!
The only thing that has happened since then is that today is my first paid day of work at the Committee of Seventy. It's amazing - Ryan has a job!! Which, if she wants to keep it, she should get back to pretending she's doing it...gotta love me...
Friday, July 30, 2004
Right now I am sitting in the home office of Anthropology/Urban Outfitters, waiting for Corinne to finish up work so I can get me some beach time. Unfortunately, I have now been sitting here for two hours and I could use a nap. I haven't slept through the night in weeks so that kind of makes Ryan a very sleepy girl by mid-afternoon.
In any case, Corinne and I are off to the Shore to visit Vincent this weekend. With any luck, it won't rain and we'll get some fun in the sun. Vince sent me a picture over email to prove to me what a beautiful day he was enjoying out there today, so the hope is up. It's time for lobster, boats, sand and water...
Grrrr...my eyes are burning - I am so exhausted. Ergh!
Anywho, I am trying to think through this whole fog that is wrapped around my brain, but it doesn't seem to be working. I just got off the phone with Anthony (who is the new guy I am dating) and I realize I am no better off now. Well, he was just getting on a plane to go to Europe for the next month or so. So his last conversation with me for a month and a half (because I am going on that rafting trip once he returns) will be one of no mental or spiritual merit whatsoever.
Oh my goodness, I really need to make this stop. My brain is not even remotely functioning. I will talk in your general direction once I have more focus.
However, before I go, my rant on The Bourne Supremacy: it's really beginning to piss me off that the new "cool" thing to do with Hollywood movies, especially thrillers and action movies, is to use handheld cameras and make quick MTV-like shots.. In the latest Bourne movie, the cameraman was seriously CHASING some of the actors in the scenes. And everything was shot so close-up that you couldn't tell what all the action was. It's the kind of editing and camera work that makes me nauseatingly ill. My motion sickness kicks in and I seriously want to grab the directior by the nose and rip it off his face...
Okay, Corinne is ready to go...must flee...
In any case, Corinne and I are off to the Shore to visit Vincent this weekend. With any luck, it won't rain and we'll get some fun in the sun. Vince sent me a picture over email to prove to me what a beautiful day he was enjoying out there today, so the hope is up. It's time for lobster, boats, sand and water...
Grrrr...my eyes are burning - I am so exhausted. Ergh!
Anywho, I am trying to think through this whole fog that is wrapped around my brain, but it doesn't seem to be working. I just got off the phone with Anthony (who is the new guy I am dating) and I realize I am no better off now. Well, he was just getting on a plane to go to Europe for the next month or so. So his last conversation with me for a month and a half (because I am going on that rafting trip once he returns) will be one of no mental or spiritual merit whatsoever.
Oh my goodness, I really need to make this stop. My brain is not even remotely functioning. I will talk in your general direction once I have more focus.
However, before I go, my rant on The Bourne Supremacy: it's really beginning to piss me off that the new "cool" thing to do with Hollywood movies, especially thrillers and action movies, is to use handheld cameras and make quick MTV-like shots.. In the latest Bourne movie, the cameraman was seriously CHASING some of the actors in the scenes. And everything was shot so close-up that you couldn't tell what all the action was. It's the kind of editing and camera work that makes me nauseatingly ill. My motion sickness kicks in and I seriously want to grab the directior by the nose and rip it off his face...
Okay, Corinne is ready to go...must flee...
Monday, July 26, 2004
Did I mention that I am moving again? Yes, yes. By this time next month, I will have moved into my new palace, my kingdom, my domain. Granted, I have to share the bathroom with two girls, but I don't care so long as I am reunited with all my stuff and can get out of my current living situation.
I don't know if any of you have lived long-term in someone else's house, in someone else's room, with someone else's stuff in the closet and on the walls, but for someone as OCD as I am, it's beginning to drive me crazy. Add to that mix a roommate who has no boundaries when it comes to eating my food (I'm poor - I can't afford any more!), to using my razor (yes, she SO did!), or to walking into my room unannounced when I am half-naked, and, if you know me at all, you know my poor little brain is ready to explode! I am looking forward to having a space I can call my own, even if I have to share the bathroom...
So, about this place: our new apartment is on the second and third floor of a Brownstone house. On the second floor, there are two large bedrooms and a bathroom (with a jacuzzi and a washer/dryer combo). Then, on the third floor is the third large bedroom (hopefully mine), with the kitchen and living room area. The third floor has cathedral ceilings that are slanted and has a skylight so there is plenty of sun. Finally, there is another set of stairs that lead to our rooftop deck! It's really an amazing place, in a great location for us (close to where Corinne and I work, and close to Ada's mom's house so she can get the car and go to school), and inexpensive enough so that we three can afford to eat dinner on occasion (Corinne and I were coming up with extracurricular "activities" we could do so we could afford a really nice place earlier this month - like naked housekeeping and the like - so we're quite contented to have found someplace where we don't need to sell our ovaries to afford to live there).
Anywho, we are signing the lease this Thursday and expect to move in during the second or third week of August. So, I guess you should expect an email from me with updated contact information in the next few weeks. And maybe I'll even be writing from my own DSL-linked computer!!! Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!!
Oh, and did I mention that I am painting my bedroom "mandarin"??? I am quite the happy puppy right now....
I don't know if any of you have lived long-term in someone else's house, in someone else's room, with someone else's stuff in the closet and on the walls, but for someone as OCD as I am, it's beginning to drive me crazy. Add to that mix a roommate who has no boundaries when it comes to eating my food (I'm poor - I can't afford any more!), to using my razor (yes, she SO did!), or to walking into my room unannounced when I am half-naked, and, if you know me at all, you know my poor little brain is ready to explode! I am looking forward to having a space I can call my own, even if I have to share the bathroom...
So, about this place: our new apartment is on the second and third floor of a Brownstone house. On the second floor, there are two large bedrooms and a bathroom (with a jacuzzi and a washer/dryer combo). Then, on the third floor is the third large bedroom (hopefully mine), with the kitchen and living room area. The third floor has cathedral ceilings that are slanted and has a skylight so there is plenty of sun. Finally, there is another set of stairs that lead to our rooftop deck! It's really an amazing place, in a great location for us (close to where Corinne and I work, and close to Ada's mom's house so she can get the car and go to school), and inexpensive enough so that we three can afford to eat dinner on occasion (Corinne and I were coming up with extracurricular "activities" we could do so we could afford a really nice place earlier this month - like naked housekeeping and the like - so we're quite contented to have found someplace where we don't need to sell our ovaries to afford to live there).
Anywho, we are signing the lease this Thursday and expect to move in during the second or third week of August. So, I guess you should expect an email from me with updated contact information in the next few weeks. And maybe I'll even be writing from my own DSL-linked computer!!! Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!!
Oh, and did I mention that I am painting my bedroom "mandarin"??? I am quite the happy puppy right now....
Saturday, July 24, 2004
I know it has been a while, and not everyone reads my Blog, but there are a lot of questions I've been getting from people who have known Vince and I throughout the past several years. Some of you, might I say, seem quite stunned that we are no longer together. To be frank, sometimes I am too.
But we are both doing rather well these days, working on surviving the breakup, working through our emotions, working towards an everlasting friendship with each other, and working towards new relationships. Vince will tell you some of his stories if you tune into his new website, which can be linked from the old: http://neodem.blogspot.com. As for me, while I still miss my Vincent very much - the conversations, the trust, the intimacy - I am doing well and have begun anew with a lovely man named Anthony.
Things seem to be working out for me these days, even though I am struggling to start all over again. My new job, with the Committee of Seventy (http://www.seventy.org), begins the first week of August where I will be the Business Administrator and I am still working on getting a parttime job at the Lucky store downtown so I have some extra play money and a discount to one of the best stores ever! Corinne and I have also found a really fantastic apartment that is closer to both of our jobs and is rather affordable - it even has a jacuzzi in the bathroom! Of course, there is only one bathroom for three girls (Ada, a family friend of Corinne's, is also moving in with us), but I figure that if there are ever any issues regarding that, I've been trained to kill. And things, of course, have been moving along quite swimmingly with Anthony.
Granted, Anthony is leaving for Europe for a month and a half so I'll be left to my own devices, but things are going well enough that I think we might survive the time spent apart. I am sure that Corinne and Jimmy and Tom and the whole gang will keep me occupied during those several weeks....
Well, whatever. I am actually quite exhausted and have very little on my mind to discuss right now. I hope all you good little kiddies have the sweetest dreams this evening...
But we are both doing rather well these days, working on surviving the breakup, working through our emotions, working towards an everlasting friendship with each other, and working towards new relationships. Vince will tell you some of his stories if you tune into his new website, which can be linked from the old: http://neodem.blogspot.com. As for me, while I still miss my Vincent very much - the conversations, the trust, the intimacy - I am doing well and have begun anew with a lovely man named Anthony.
Things seem to be working out for me these days, even though I am struggling to start all over again. My new job, with the Committee of Seventy (http://www.seventy.org), begins the first week of August where I will be the Business Administrator and I am still working on getting a parttime job at the Lucky store downtown so I have some extra play money and a discount to one of the best stores ever! Corinne and I have also found a really fantastic apartment that is closer to both of our jobs and is rather affordable - it even has a jacuzzi in the bathroom! Of course, there is only one bathroom for three girls (Ada, a family friend of Corinne's, is also moving in with us), but I figure that if there are ever any issues regarding that, I've been trained to kill
Granted, Anthony is leaving for Europe for a month and a half so I'll be left to my own devices, but things are going well enough that I think we might survive the time spent apart. I am sure that Corinne and Jimmy and Tom and the whole gang will keep me occupied during those several weeks....
Well, whatever. I am actually quite exhausted and have very little on my mind to discuss right now. I hope all you good little kiddies have the sweetest dreams this evening...
Tuesday, June 15, 2004
On leaving New York…
You know, Vincent really thinks I hate this city, and I suppose I do complain an awful lot about things. I think that may be a really bad quality in a person, to be constantly thinking the glass is half empty (shut up, Anthony), so I will do my best to reconcile that by telling you all (whoever you are) why it is that I love New York.
First and foremost, my apartment was amazing. For those of you who missed it, it was a three bedroom, two bath marvel with a gaggle of closet space that most New Yorkers would consider a luxury, if not a complete unknown. Vince and I decorated the place together, coming to what I consider an excellent compromise in function and beauty. You could say it was my first real apartment, replete with furniture I’d picked out, a refrigerator Vince lovingly moved in from Philadelphia, and all the urine stains my kitties could manage (would it kill you, Daisy, to work on your aim???). And Andrew even said it was the nicest apartment of all his friends’ apartments – not that Andrew’s opinion means much to all of you, but after all he is my Masshole and I was flattered.
Anyway, it was my first home away from home. Yeah, I lived in Philadelphia for six years, but that was all dorms and, to put it as mildly as I can, Vince’s “bachelor pad.” This was the first time I took part in the process of procuring, paying for, and creating a home to live in. For someone raised like I was, it is a truly liberating thing to be living on your own and taking care of your own responsibilities.
Another aspect of New York that I truly loved was being able to reacquaint myself with old friends. Mel and I were able to start up our friendship again, once we realized that Brooklyn and Inwood aren’t ALL that far away from each other. I saw my favorite narcoleptic, Dave K., once in a while too. I got to see Starr, Dara, Mark, Toni, and Mark more often than I did when we lived in different cities – in fact, even though we had lived in the same city for years, only blocks away from each other, I even managed to see Corinne more than I had when in Philly (strange, but true.) It may have taken me over a year of adjusting, but I finally have my finger on the pulse of New York, and more importantly, I have friends here.
Then there is New York itself. I’ve seen so many things – the Bronx Zoo, the cherry blossoms in the Brooklyn Botanical Garden, several Broadway shows, a comedy show, the Museum of Sex, the Cloisters, Central Park, the inside of a room at the Waldorf Astoria… There is no comparison if you’re looking for a city with something to offer in the way of entertainment. I’ve been to gay strip clubs, a lesbian bar, a transvestite bar (don’t ask), a lingerie party and so much more. I’ve pushed the boundaries and discovered a lot more truths about the world and myself through my experiences. New York gave me so much; I wish I could afford to give it more…
I’ll miss the Subway sandwich shop only a block away where the owner knows me and the Spanish girls really know how to make an Italian B.M.T.; the CVS pharmacy where the pharmacist actually knows my name; the tiny Asian postal employee that delivers my mail and always chats with me when I see her carting around her ten tons of packages; the Inwood Post Office where, no matter the time of day, the line is always out the door; Victor’s Gym, where all the Spanish guys behind the dumbbells know my name; the A Express train (for obvious reasons); all 2 million Starbuck’s I’ve frequented; the freaky, hairy man in Central Park who we mistook for wearing a shirt instead of only being one or two steps away from his ape ancestors in terms of body hair evolution; the escaped parakeet I found in Fort Tryon park; the guys at EMS in Soho that actually know the products they sell; the guys in front of the Union Square Barnes & Noble who sold me that Columbian child (I’m a sponsor for Children International, folks – his name is Eduardo); that gay boy named Vincent who works at Mexx, Vince’s favorite men’s clothing store; the AMC 25 and Loews Kips Bay where I spent many a Thursday night – not to mention the Baskin Robbins right across the street from the Loews where I spent many a Thursday late night (after the movie of course!); that Petco on 31st and 2nd where they have kitties in cages at the front of the store for adoption, with their life stories on index cards right outside their cages (what ever happened to my favorite one-eyed cat??!); the lovely Team in Training office on S. Park Avenue that helped me have focus these past few months, knowing exactly when and how to drive on the Henry Hudson Highway; the crazy, drunk homeless men who sit around the community garden all day and chat with one another, their shopping carts full of trash and memories not far off; our first floor neighbors whose kitchen I can see clearly from my office and our kitchen, who smoke a lot of weed and then do a TON of cooking; the Park Side Restaurant where I get my Sunday brunch and the Dyckman Deli where I get everything else, including Vince’s turkey sandwiches and Pirate’s Booty; not to mention the professional trumpet player in my building who practices every afternoon…. There are so many little things that I’ve grown to love over the past year that it would almost be a shame if I never came back to live here again.
But we will see. There is so much more of the world to explore and I intend to do a lot more of it! Once I’m financially capable, that is. Who knows where I will be next?! Life is such an exciting adventure, is it not?
Well, I did promise Michelle that if she comes to work on the East Coast for a few years, I will move out to the West Coast for a few years afterward. So maybe that will really happen.
In any case, right now I’m heading to Philadelphia. I sent out an email with my contact information so if you didn’t get it and think you should, go ahead and get in touch with me and I will determine if you are cool enough to be privy to that kind of information.
Anywho, all my love to New York and everyone in it…
You know, Vincent really thinks I hate this city, and I suppose I do complain an awful lot about things. I think that may be a really bad quality in a person, to be constantly thinking the glass is half empty (shut up, Anthony), so I will do my best to reconcile that by telling you all (whoever you are) why it is that I love New York.
First and foremost, my apartment was amazing. For those of you who missed it, it was a three bedroom, two bath marvel with a gaggle of closet space that most New Yorkers would consider a luxury, if not a complete unknown. Vince and I decorated the place together, coming to what I consider an excellent compromise in function and beauty. You could say it was my first real apartment, replete with furniture I’d picked out, a refrigerator Vince lovingly moved in from Philadelphia, and all the urine stains my kitties could manage (would it kill you, Daisy, to work on your aim???). And Andrew even said it was the nicest apartment of all his friends’ apartments – not that Andrew’s opinion means much to all of you, but after all he is my Masshole and I was flattered.
Anyway, it was my first home away from home. Yeah, I lived in Philadelphia for six years, but that was all dorms and, to put it as mildly as I can, Vince’s “bachelor pad.” This was the first time I took part in the process of procuring, paying for, and creating a home to live in. For someone raised like I was, it is a truly liberating thing to be living on your own and taking care of your own responsibilities.
Another aspect of New York that I truly loved was being able to reacquaint myself with old friends. Mel and I were able to start up our friendship again, once we realized that Brooklyn and Inwood aren’t ALL that far away from each other. I saw my favorite narcoleptic, Dave K., once in a while too. I got to see Starr, Dara, Mark, Toni, and Mark more often than I did when we lived in different cities – in fact, even though we had lived in the same city for years, only blocks away from each other, I even managed to see Corinne more than I had when in Philly (strange, but true.) It may have taken me over a year of adjusting, but I finally have my finger on the pulse of New York, and more importantly, I have friends here.
Then there is New York itself. I’ve seen so many things – the Bronx Zoo, the cherry blossoms in the Brooklyn Botanical Garden, several Broadway shows, a comedy show, the Museum of Sex, the Cloisters, Central Park, the inside of a room at the Waldorf Astoria… There is no comparison if you’re looking for a city with something to offer in the way of entertainment. I’ve been to gay strip clubs, a lesbian bar, a transvestite bar (don’t ask), a lingerie party and so much more. I’ve pushed the boundaries and discovered a lot more truths about the world and myself through my experiences. New York gave me so much; I wish I could afford to give it more…
I’ll miss the Subway sandwich shop only a block away where the owner knows me and the Spanish girls really know how to make an Italian B.M.T.; the CVS pharmacy where the pharmacist actually knows my name; the tiny Asian postal employee that delivers my mail and always chats with me when I see her carting around her ten tons of packages; the Inwood Post Office where, no matter the time of day, the line is always out the door; Victor’s Gym, where all the Spanish guys behind the dumbbells know my name; the A Express train (for obvious reasons); all 2 million Starbuck’s I’ve frequented; the freaky, hairy man in Central Park who we mistook for wearing a shirt instead of only being one or two steps away from his ape ancestors in terms of body hair evolution; the escaped parakeet I found in Fort Tryon park; the guys at EMS in Soho that actually know the products they sell; the guys in front of the Union Square Barnes & Noble who sold me that Columbian child (I’m a sponsor for Children International, folks – his name is Eduardo); that gay boy named Vincent who works at Mexx, Vince’s favorite men’s clothing store; the AMC 25 and Loews Kips Bay where I spent many a Thursday night – not to mention the Baskin Robbins right across the street from the Loews where I spent many a Thursday late night (after the movie of course!); that Petco on 31st and 2nd where they have kitties in cages at the front of the store for adoption, with their life stories on index cards right outside their cages (what ever happened to my favorite one-eyed cat??!); the lovely Team in Training office on S. Park Avenue that helped me have focus these past few months, knowing exactly when and how to drive on the Henry Hudson Highway; the crazy, drunk homeless men who sit around the community garden all day and chat with one another, their shopping carts full of trash and memories not far off; our first floor neighbors whose kitchen I can see clearly from my office and our kitchen, who smoke a lot of weed and then do a TON of cooking; the Park Side Restaurant where I get my Sunday brunch and the Dyckman Deli where I get everything else, including Vince’s turkey sandwiches and Pirate’s Booty; not to mention the professional trumpet player in my building who practices every afternoon…. There are so many little things that I’ve grown to love over the past year that it would almost be a shame if I never came back to live here again.
But we will see. There is so much more of the world to explore and I intend to do a lot more of it! Once I’m financially capable, that is. Who knows where I will be next?! Life is such an exciting adventure, is it not?
Well, I did promise Michelle that if she comes to work on the East Coast for a few years, I will move out to the West Coast for a few years afterward. So maybe that will really happen.
In any case, right now I’m heading to Philadelphia. I sent out an email with my contact information so if you didn’t get it and think you should, go ahead and get in touch with me and I will determine if you are cool enough to be privy to that kind of information.
Anywho, all my love to New York and everyone in it…
Monday, May 24, 2004
I love my friend, Brian. His website is always full of useless, trivial things that I can use to fill up my day with...
"You must remember this, a kiss is still a
kiss". Your romance is Casablanca. A
classic story of love in trying times, chock
full of both cynicism and hope. You obviously
believe in true love, but you're also
constantly aware of practicality and societal
expectations. That's not always fun, but at
least it's realistic. Try not to let the Nazis
get you down too much.
What Romance Movie Best Represents Your Love Life?
brought to you by Quizilla
"You must remember this, a kiss is still a
kiss". Your romance is Casablanca. A
classic story of love in trying times, chock
full of both cynicism and hope. You obviously
believe in true love, but you're also
constantly aware of practicality and societal
expectations. That's not always fun, but at
least it's realistic. Try not to let the Nazis
get you down too much.
What Romance Movie Best Represents Your Love Life?
brought to you by Quizilla
Tuesday, May 18, 2004
Change of plans. I am no longer moving to the Jersey Shore for the summer. Instead, I am staying in New York until mid-June and then I am moving to Philadelphia (good news for you Philly folk).
The reason? Vincent and I decided to break up. We think it’s for the best (or at least, we hope). Vincent will be moving down to the Ventnor apartment, and I am moving in with my friend, Corinne. In case you are, don’t worry – Vince and I are dealing with this the best we can, and we’re working together to make both moves run smoothly.
Of course, calls, dates, and random surprise visits are SO welcome…!
I don’t have much to say about this right now, but I thought you should know.
The reason? Vincent and I decided to break up. We think it’s for the best (or at least, we hope). Vincent will be moving down to the Ventnor apartment, and I am moving in with my friend, Corinne. In case you are, don’t worry – Vince and I are dealing with this the best we can, and we’re working together to make both moves run smoothly.
Of course, calls, dates, and random surprise visits are SO welcome…!
I don’t have much to say about this right now, but I thought you should know.
Friday, May 07, 2004
I would have pictures of Corinne’s birthday extravaganza if I didn’t forget to bring my digital camera to Philadelphia last weekend. Now it’s just too much work to post anything up on my Blog – first I would have to go to CVS and actually pick up the pictures, then I would have to scan them, and then play with Photoshop, and we all know that lately Ryan doesn’t have the motivation to get that far in life, so you’re just going to have to imagine Jimmy playing with Vincent’s nipples on Vandra’s couch. And don’t listen to Vincent when he claims that he was surrounded by women on that couch… There was still some unbuttoning of the pants, the untucking of the shirt, definite areola action, and Jimmy!!!! So phbbbt!
You could actually say that I had a good time this past weekend – yay for Corinne! We sat in Rittenhouse Park on Friday afternoon (Corinne being late for her own party, might I add) feeling like a bunch of high schoolers devising all kinds of ways for us to drink illegally. We had our “Vandra” water, which was an Aqua Fina bottle with Vandra’s name on it, filled with Vodka of course. And then we had the non-Vandra water, which was an Aqua Fina bottle with no name, filled with Rum. And then we actually had water water, which was a bottle of Poland Springs, filled with water. Then there were various mixers and whatnot.
As the Corinne-appointed photographer for the event, I drank water during throughout most of our picnic, trying my damnedest to get “sober” pictures as people arrived to wish Corinne well (i.e. proof that they came, just in case Corinne failed to remember). Eventually I broke that habit, to help Corinne with her vodka tonic and ease the transition between sober Corinne, buzzed Corinne, tipsy Corinne, and “I’m-not-going-to-remember-this-in-the-morning, am-I?” Corinne. It didn’t quite work, as she eventually caught on and took off with the bottle we were sharing, but at least it got me started on a little bit of alcohol consumption.
Eventually, about 15 of us found ourselves at Audrey Claire’s (no one seems to recall how we “found” ourselves there, but so it goes…). Then we broke out the wine – which seems to be more legal in a restaurant than in a public park. Corinne and I played musical chairs, constantly switching tables so that she could bestow her bedazzling presence on all her guests. I kept moving just to keep away from Vincent’s arguments against daylight savings time and for his metric calendar, two of the most ridiculously tired streams of word vomit to come out of his mouth. Granted, I walked right into Erik and Jimmy hissing over George W. Bush, but I staid out of that one (miraculously) by talking over Jimmy’s head to Katherine…
Somehow the bill got paid and we all appeared together again at Vandra’s apartment. That is the location of Vincent’s own version of “couching” and all the other drunken behavior for the evening. I spent much of the remainder of the party waiting for Corinne and Vincent to stop having a good time, and talking to Brian about what an old lady I’ve become. Seriously, my bedtime is about 10PM and I try to wake up and be at the gym by 6AM. So when 1AM rolls around and I am still nursing the same vodka tonic I’ve had since about 9PM, I am no longer the spritely young girl that was snapping photos down in Rittenhouse Park. It is time to go to SLEEP!
Granted, it was extremely pleasurable to see the whole crew together again – Jimmy, Tom, Vandra, Lisa, Courtney, Jason, Erik, Brian, etc. – but I have serious limits these days. I’ve become quite accustomed to my early-to-bed, early-to-rise routine. I haven’t quite decided if that’s a good thing or not though. Most people my age are still out in the bars and clubs until 4AM on the weekends, and I find that I would much rather be hangover-free and off on a long hike by 7AM on Saturday morning. Go figure.
So that was Corinne’s birthday – beautiful dress, illegal drinking, wine and politics, a wasted attempt at playing “Asshole” (Bullshit!), Vandra dancing by herself to 80’s music, Vince getting nippled by Jimmy, and “other assorted activities” (which basically covers all the things I cannot say to such a large spectrum of people). It was a wonderful time, even if I am OLD.
The other highlight of the weekend was sitting down to lunch with Rebecca (for those classical music aficionados out there, she is the partner of the legendary Peter Nero, whom I originally met at Vince’s father’s Harry S. Truman Ball in 2003) and Corinne in Chinatown, about a block away from an anti-abortion rally (yeah, there’s nothing like sitting down to eat while a large truck keeps driving around the block with a picture of a mutilated baby pasted on the side of it). In any case, Corinne and I were nursing hangovers (it seems like it doesn’t matter anymore – one drink or ten, I’m still getting one) and having the most fabulous time! Becca told us all these fantastic stories about her life – she is one amazing woman! She even talked me into trying French Veitnamese coffee (or was it Thai?), which is a real treat – even if it wasn’t made right! The caffeine was just what I needed to get through the day.
So that was most of my weekend.
In other news, Vince and I are beginning to plan out our move. It looks like we will be completely out of New York by July 1st. I will most likely be moving down to the Shore sometime this month, so we’re starting to think of our stuff in terms of “do I need it?” “Do we store it in Philly?” “Or do we pay the movers to store it?” It’s going to be a tight squeeze fitting the two of us in that two-room apartment in Ventnor – never mind all our stuff!!! So we really need to pare things down to the most essential. Whereas I don’t have a lot of stuff, I use everything I own… then there’s Vincent who owns a lot of stuff, who really uses very little. So I’m thinking that, although I’m the master of being able to travel with a backpack (when I want to), I will be the one having the most difficult time deciding what is necessary and what is not. We don’t even know how long we will be living at the Shore. Ergh.
It looks like a job may be on the horizon for me, too. Well, down at the Shore, anyway. I am meeting with a VP over at Caesar’s Entertainment next week and with any luck, she will like me enough to make me her new personal assistant. If that goes through, then I will be heading down to New Jersey within the next couple of weeks. Wish me luck!!!
If all goes as planned, then I will start working on getting an internship in editing or publishing. They have a lot of local newspapers and magazines down there, so I’m hoping someone will want some free labor. We will see.
Then I’m going to start working on my tan. Oh, how I miss the sun!!!
The only other thing of note this week is Mean Girls. The movie, by Tina Fey (go Philly!). Vincent and I went last night in support of our girl, and it turns out that Vince was the only straight male in the audience. It’s your basic teenage chick-flick, with a lot of less-than-subtle mockery of the whole teenage world of cliques. I was amused on several levels, especially when I started thinking of my own high school career, when my friends and I decided to make fun of the system and dub ourselves “The Clique.” We thought we were pretty hysterical. (Although, at the same time, I was completely clueless as to who belonged in what group of people. I think I was one of the few people who actually had a really enjoyable high school experience. My guess is that is because I was completely oblivious.)
Well, go see it if you’re into that whole Clueless /Never Been Kissed/etc. movie ideal. I thought it was fun…
You could actually say that I had a good time this past weekend – yay for Corinne! We sat in Rittenhouse Park on Friday afternoon (Corinne being late for her own party, might I add) feeling like a bunch of high schoolers devising all kinds of ways for us to drink illegally. We had our “Vandra” water, which was an Aqua Fina bottle with Vandra’s name on it, filled with Vodka of course. And then we had the non-Vandra water, which was an Aqua Fina bottle with no name, filled with Rum. And then we actually had water water, which was a bottle of Poland Springs, filled with
As the Corinne-appointed photographer for the event, I drank water during throughout most of our picnic, trying my damnedest to get “sober” pictures as people arrived to wish Corinne well (i.e. proof that they came, just in case Corinne failed to remember). Eventually I broke that habit, to help Corinne with her vodka tonic and ease the transition between sober Corinne, buzzed Corinne, tipsy Corinne, and “I’m-not-going-to-remember-this-in-the-morning, am-I?” Corinne. It didn’t quite work, as she eventually caught on and took off with the bottle we were sharing, but at least it got me started on a little bit of alcohol consumption.
Eventually, about 15 of us found ourselves at Audrey Claire’s (no one seems to recall how we “found” ourselves there, but so it goes…). Then we broke out the wine – which seems to be more legal in a restaurant than in a public park. Corinne and I played musical chairs, constantly switching tables so that she could bestow her bedazzling presence on all her guests. I kept moving just to keep away from Vincent’s arguments against daylight savings time and for his metric calendar, two of the most ridiculously tired streams of word vomit to come out of his mouth. Granted, I walked right into Erik and Jimmy hissing over George W. Bush, but I staid out of that one (miraculously) by talking over Jimmy’s head to Katherine…
Somehow the bill got paid and we all appeared together again at Vandra’s apartment. That is the location of Vincent’s own version of “couching” and all the other drunken behavior for the evening. I spent much of the remainder of the party waiting for Corinne and Vincent to stop having a good time, and talking to Brian about what an old lady I’ve become. Seriously, my bedtime is about 10PM and I try to wake up and be at the gym by 6AM. So when 1AM rolls around and I am still nursing the same vodka tonic I’ve had since about 9PM, I am no longer the spritely young girl that was snapping photos down in Rittenhouse Park. It is time to go to SLEEP!
Granted, it was extremely pleasurable to see the whole crew together again – Jimmy, Tom, Vandra, Lisa, Courtney, Jason, Erik, Brian, etc. – but I have serious limits these days. I’ve become quite accustomed to my early-to-bed, early-to-rise routine. I haven’t quite decided if that’s a good thing or not though. Most people my age are still out in the bars and clubs until 4AM on the weekends, and I find that I would much rather be hangover-free and off on a long hike by 7AM on Saturday morning. Go figure.
So that was Corinne’s birthday – beautiful dress, illegal drinking, wine and politics, a wasted attempt at playing “Asshole” (Bullshit!), Vandra dancing by herself to 80’s music, Vince getting nippled by Jimmy, and “other assorted activities” (which basically covers all the things I cannot say to such a large spectrum of people). It was a wonderful time, even if I am OLD.
The other highlight of the weekend was sitting down to lunch with Rebecca (for those classical music aficionados out there, she is the partner of the legendary Peter Nero, whom I originally met at Vince’s father’s Harry S. Truman Ball in 2003) and Corinne in Chinatown, about a block away from an anti-abortion rally (yeah, there’s nothing like sitting down to eat while a large truck keeps driving around the block with a picture of a mutilated baby pasted on the side of it). In any case, Corinne and I were nursing hangovers (it seems like it doesn’t matter anymore – one drink or ten, I’m still getting one) and having the most fabulous time! Becca told us all these fantastic stories about her life – she is one amazing woman! She even talked me into trying French Veitnamese coffee (or was it Thai?), which is a real treat – even if it wasn’t made right! The caffeine was just what I needed to get through the day.
So that was most of my weekend.
In other news, Vince and I are beginning to plan out our move. It looks like we will be completely out of New York by July 1st. I will most likely be moving down to the Shore sometime this month, so we’re starting to think of our stuff in terms of “do I need it?” “Do we store it in Philly?” “Or do we pay the movers to store it?” It’s going to be a tight squeeze fitting the two of us in that two-room apartment in Ventnor – never mind all our stuff!!! So we really need to pare things down to the most essential. Whereas I don’t have a lot of stuff, I use everything I own… then there’s Vincent who owns a lot of stuff, who really uses very little. So I’m thinking that, although I’m the master of being able to travel with a backpack (when I want to), I will be the one having the most difficult time deciding what is necessary and what is not. We don’t even know how long we will be living at the Shore. Ergh.
It looks like a job may be on the horizon for me, too. Well, down at the Shore, anyway. I am meeting with a VP over at Caesar’s Entertainment next week and with any luck, she will like me enough to make me her new personal assistant. If that goes through, then I will be heading down to New Jersey within the next couple of weeks. Wish me luck!!!
If all goes as planned, then I will start working on getting an internship in editing or publishing. They have a lot of local newspapers and magazines down there, so I’m hoping someone will want some free labor. We will see.
Then I’m going to start working on my tan. Oh, how I miss the sun!!!
The only other thing of note this week is Mean Girls. The movie, by Tina Fey (go Philly!). Vincent and I went last night in support of our girl, and it turns out that Vince was the only straight male in the audience. It’s your basic teenage chick-flick, with a lot of less-than-subtle mockery of the whole teenage world of cliques. I was amused on several levels, especially when I started thinking of my own high school career, when my friends and I decided to make fun of the system and dub ourselves “The Clique.” We thought we were pretty hysterical. (Although, at the same time, I was completely clueless as to who belonged in what group of people. I think I was one of the few people who actually had a really enjoyable high school experience. My guess is that is because I was completely oblivious.)
Well, go see it if you’re into that whole Clueless /Never Been Kissed/etc. movie ideal. I thought it was fun…
Monday, April 19, 2004
I’m moving. Unless something incredibly outrageous occurs – such as Random House hiring me to be its new President and CEO – Vince and I have decided to move ourselves to the beach for the summer. Apparently I am so unhire-able as to be undesirable here in New York City, and I need to try my luck in Jersey. Watch out Donald Trump, I’m coming to a casino near you!
Well, perhaps not a casino, but we’ll see where fun in the sun lands me. Yours truly may just end up being the most tanned and smiling cocktail waitress or ferris wheel operator you’ve ever met south of New York and north of Philly.
Vince and I haven’t figured out all the details yet, but I don’t see any reason why this won’t work out. I’m not entirely devoid of personality or talent yet so I think I can swing something in the service sector, don’t you? (Don’t answer that, Masshole…)
No matter what, this means early morning bike rides by the ocean – some early morning jogs as well – weekends on the beach, lobsters at Robert’s, New England clam chowder at Smith's Dock, mini golf with the old lady who kicks people off the green for loud and obnoxious behavior, shopping (see, that’s where the whole employment thing comes in), dock-side barbeques, boat rides, jet-skiing, and living in a 2-room apartment with Vincent (hey, you can’t have everything…).
For everyone within a two-hour radius, this is good news for you too! When you want to see me, a beach is involved! We’re thinking of leaving the last week of June and returning before our trip to the Grand Canyon in the first week of September (so I’m guessing late August). Of course, Corinne, you have the keys to the castle so you’re in charge of bringing Jimmy, Tom and the rest of the Philly crowd, whereas Estee, Mel, Starr and the New York gang will have to bus it on out! We still have a queen-sized couch-bed so there’s always room for guests…! (And you DC-MA-CA-etc. people are still more than welcome! It’s just more of a transportation issue for you guys to come visit – but if you find yourself in the area…)
So, with the big bang first, I might as well talk about last weekend now to bring you slowly back to normalcy (or as close as you can get, Michelle). Vincent and I spent the past few days in Philadelphia, our home away from home. Saturday night was Senator Fumo’s annual Harry S. Truman Ball,
and we were there to see Bobby Rydell drop to the floor in what we heard was a diabetic seizure in the middle of a number. Don’t worry, Rydell fans, he is fine and he left the party sitting up on a gurney, laughing and waving – but talk about buzzkill. Good thing it was nearly midnight and the ball was winding down (all those carriages turning into pumpkins at the stroke of twelve, you know!).
We also saw a Cher impersonator who was the focus of a lot of discussions. People were wondering if “Cher” was female or akin to the lead of The Crying Game, especially after there were many a photo taken of the Senator with his hand on “her” tattooed bottom. (To alleviate any confusion, I will let you know right away that our lovely impersonator is just a wonderful woman toward whom time has been fairly kind…
Corinne and I also were entertained by some party crashers who walked in from a “Family Board Meeting,” which to the uninformed (like ourselves) means that these crazy southerners were distant relatives of our former President, James Madison, and were in town for a meeting. Think Daughters of the Revolution, with a southern twist of lime and the Midwestern fondness for cousins… Well, the southerners found out I was dating Vince so they invited Corinne out to the bar at Le Bec Fin for drinks. Oddly enough, she declined – the southern gentleman was probably 65 years old!
Later in the evening, Corinne and I also enjoyed the delicacies of the Presidential Suite of the Sheraton Society Hill. Senator Fumo wasn’t staying the night so we gobbled up his Godiva and drank his champagne while we discussed life and politics, and shooed unwelcome drunk boys from our door. All in all, it was an interesting year for the HST.
Thankfully, Vincent and I had those hotel rooms that night because Corinne was dog-sitting all weekend, and although Rufus is absolutely adorable, he just doesn’t know when to shut up. The dog needs Prozac or something…
In any case, those are the tales from Inwood…what’s shakin’ in your neighborhood?
Well, perhaps not a casino, but we’ll see where fun in the sun lands me. Yours truly may just end up being the most tanned and smiling cocktail waitress or ferris wheel operator you’ve ever met south of New York and north of Philly.
Vince and I haven’t figured out all the details yet, but I don’t see any reason why this won’t work out. I’m not entirely devoid of personality or talent yet so I think I can swing something in the service sector, don’t you? (Don’t answer that, Masshole…)
No matter what, this means early morning bike rides by the ocean – some early morning jogs as well – weekends on the beach, lobsters at Robert’s, New England clam chowder at Smith's Dock, mini golf with the old lady who kicks people off the green for loud and obnoxious behavior, shopping (see, that’s where the whole employment thing comes in), dock-side barbeques, boat rides, jet-skiing, and living in a 2-room apartment with Vincent (hey, you can’t have everything…).
For everyone within a two-hour radius, this is good news for you too! When you want to see me, a beach is involved! We’re thinking of leaving the last week of June and returning before our trip to the Grand Canyon in the first week of September (so I’m guessing late August). Of course, Corinne, you have the keys to the castle so you’re in charge of bringing Jimmy, Tom and the rest of the Philly crowd, whereas Estee, Mel, Starr and the New York gang will have to bus it on out! We still have a queen-sized couch-bed so there’s always room for guests…! (And you DC-MA-CA-etc. people are still more than welcome! It’s just more of a transportation issue for you guys to come visit – but if you find yourself in the area…)
So, with the big bang first, I might as well talk about last weekend now to bring you slowly back to normalcy (or as close as you can get, Michelle). Vincent and I spent the past few days in Philadelphia, our home away from home. Saturday night was Senator Fumo’s annual Harry S. Truman Ball,
and we were there to see Bobby Rydell drop to the floor in what we heard was a diabetic seizure in the middle of a number. Don’t worry, Rydell fans, he is fine and he left the party sitting up on a gurney, laughing and waving – but talk about buzzkill. Good thing it was nearly midnight and the ball was winding down (all those carriages turning into pumpkins at the stroke of twelve, you know!).
We also saw a Cher impersonator who was the focus of a lot of discussions. People were wondering if “Cher” was female or akin to the lead of The Crying Game, especially after there were many a photo taken of the Senator with his hand on “her” tattooed bottom. (To alleviate any confusion, I will let you know right away that our lovely impersonator is just a wonderful woman toward whom time has been fairly kind…
Corinne and I also were entertained by some party crashers who walked in from a “Family Board Meeting,” which to the uninformed (like ourselves) means that these crazy southerners were distant relatives of our former President, James Madison, and were in town for a meeting. Think Daughters of the Revolution, with a southern twist of lime and the Midwestern fondness for cousins… Well, the southerners found out I was dating Vince so they invited Corinne out to the bar at Le Bec Fin for drinks. Oddly enough, she declined – the southern gentleman was probably 65 years old!
Later in the evening, Corinne and I also enjoyed the delicacies of the Presidential Suite of the Sheraton Society Hill. Senator Fumo wasn’t staying the night so we gobbled up his Godiva and drank his champagne while we discussed life and politics, and shooed unwelcome drunk boys from our door. All in all, it was an interesting year for the HST.
Thankfully, Vincent and I had those hotel rooms that night because Corinne was dog-sitting all weekend, and although Rufus is absolutely adorable, he just doesn’t know when to shut up. The dog needs Prozac or something…
In any case, those are the tales from Inwood…what’s shakin’ in your neighborhood?
Saturday, April 10, 2004
So Yael tells me that I’ve sufficiently freaked people out with this whole “cyst in my wrist” mention in an earlier Blog that I didn’t really explain. See, it’s like this: my wrist hurt for about six months and my general practitioner was beginning to think it wasn’t carpal tunnel so she sent me to a hand specialist. The hand specialist played around with my hand, measured it with some random instruments, and then asked about a bump in my wrist. He figures that at some point last year, I damaged my wrist somehow, tearing a ligament which then didn’t heal properly. So a cyst developed. Pressure on my hand then results in pain in my wrist, i.e. pushups, carrying groceries, resting my head on my left hand… Well, to be sure, I am scheduled for a MRI this Friday, and at some point I will meet up with my new friend, the hand specialist. Then he will tell me all about what’s wrong with me and we’ll go from there. He didn’t appear alarmed about the whole thing, so neither am I. It’s not a life-threatening kind of ailment, just a pain-in-the-ass kind of an ailment.
The point is: don’t worry, okay?
Next topic! Starr took Vincent and I to see Mayor of Sunset Strip last Thursday. It is a documentary about the life of Rodney Bingenheimer, a DJ for the LA-based, alternative rock radio station KROQ. By the time we left the theatre I was thinking, “Who cares?” I spent two hours of my life watching a doe-eyed man who looks like he walks on peg legs stare at the camera and talk about, well, nothing. He looked confused as to why people were filming him in the first place. Other people narrated and he just stared. And then you wonder how he came to be so instrumental in the lives of so many rock stars (he was the first to play such bands as The Doors, The Ramones, David Bowie, etc.) – I mean, he has no identifiable personality. I don’t understand why people are drawn to him. Or this movie for that matter. So don’t see it – it’s trash.
I was also regaled with the Barnum & Bailey Ringling Brother’s Circus last week.
Vincent surprised me with a trip to Madison Square Garden and I thought for a minute we were off to see a hockey game. I haven’t been to the circus since sophomore year of high school when my friends and I thought it would be cool to go because nobody else was doing it. And guess what guys?! I still love it!
This is me, loving it!!!
Every time I go I think about how interesting it could be to grow up in the circus, to experience the trapeze or the tightrope as second nature. Maybe if I remain unemployed too long, I will run away and join a circus school!
Although right now, the circus to join is the Cirque du Soleil. But then I would have to go to school for French as well, since all the members of the group must be fluent in English and French. Well, we’ll see… I am doing nothing rash (yet).
The point is: don’t worry, okay?
Next topic! Starr took Vincent and I to see Mayor of Sunset Strip last Thursday. It is a documentary about the life of Rodney Bingenheimer, a DJ for the LA-based, alternative rock radio station KROQ. By the time we left the theatre I was thinking, “Who cares?” I spent two hours of my life watching a doe-eyed man who looks like he walks on peg legs stare at the camera and talk about, well, nothing. He looked confused as to why people were filming him in the first place. Other people narrated and he just stared. And then you wonder how he came to be so instrumental in the lives of so many rock stars (he was the first to play such bands as The Doors, The Ramones, David Bowie, etc.) – I mean, he has no identifiable personality. I don’t understand why people are drawn to him. Or this movie for that matter. So don’t see it – it’s trash.
I was also regaled with the Barnum & Bailey Ringling Brother’s Circus last week.
Vincent surprised me with a trip to Madison Square Garden and I thought for a minute we were off to see a hockey game. I haven’t been to the circus since sophomore year of high school when my friends and I thought it would be cool to go because nobody else was doing it. And guess what guys?! I still love it!
This is me, loving it!!!
Every time I go I think about how interesting it could be to grow up in the circus, to experience the trapeze or the tightrope as second nature. Maybe if I remain unemployed too long, I will run away and join a circus school!
Although right now, the circus to join is the Cirque du Soleil. But then I would have to go to school for French as well, since all the members of the group must be fluent in English and French. Well, we’ll see… I am doing nothing rash (yet).
Monday, April 05, 2004
So I just got off the phone with my mother and I told her I was going to post her job suggestions on the world wide web for all the world to see. Seeing as I am still unemployed, my dearest, darling mother thinks I should be one of the following: a bartender with a back room dedicated to waxing the chests and backs of gay men, a stripper – but then she had second thoughts and said I would need “major surgery” for that (thanks mom, I’m feeling the love), a surrogate mother, and, my favorite, a madam (move over, Heidi Fleiss!).
Anyone else have any suggestions?
Anyone else have any suggestions?
Thursday, April 01, 2004
There goes my New Year’s resolution. That whole keeping you guys updated on my life thing went right out the window these past few weeks… Oh well. C’est la vie.
You’ve only missed a lingerie party, my brother’s birthday, a night of laughs at the Comedy Club, David Mamet’s Spartan, a new haircut replete with overly BLOND highlights, a murder mystery weekend in the heart of the Poconos, installing clips on my bike instead of pedals, Corinne visiting me for a rainy do-nothing day in New York, a doctor’s appointment that informed me of a lovely “cyst” in my left wrist (still awaiting prognosis), and being kidnapped by Erin and Andrew upon their arrival to New York. See? That’s all.
My life has actually taken on an odd new kind of ritualization. Being unemployed has forced me to find new habits and to constantly seek out things to do. The biggest item of continuity on that list is my obsessive gym habit. I found myself a nice trainer named Alex whose sole goal in life is to wipe the smile off my face – it hasn’t worked yet, but he’s certainly made a few of my day-after’s less enjoyable. I am in the gym about 3 days a week now, and on my bike about 3. When the weather is abysmal (like today), I have more gym days. I spend about an hour and a half in the gym each time, and around two to three hours on my bike. It’s a painful process at times, but I hope it makes me suck that much less when it comes to the big 100 miler in June.
I have also taken up cooking quite a bit. Corinne got a taste of my leek soufflé when she was in town last week, but Vince has reaped most of the culinary benefits. The big item on the menu this week is lamb medallions with shallots, tarragon and red wine. (Mom, you’ll be happy to know that I even made your favorite bruschetta this week!) You can tell I’ve been cooking a lot since Vince has developed such a cute little tummy!
Other than that, I’ve continued my job hunt (unsuccessfully), and read a few books (most notably started Robert Jordan’s Wheel of Time series, and read the Audrey Hepburn biography by Barry Paris) – real exciting, huh?
Anyway, I must be off! I am meeting with one of Jeff’s friends who works for Random House…
You’ve only missed a lingerie party, my brother’s birthday, a night of laughs at the Comedy Club, David Mamet’s Spartan, a new haircut replete with overly BLOND highlights, a murder mystery weekend in the heart of the Poconos, installing clips on my bike instead of pedals, Corinne visiting me for a rainy do-nothing day in New York, a doctor’s appointment that informed me of a lovely “cyst” in my left wrist (still awaiting prognosis), and being kidnapped by Erin and Andrew upon their arrival to New York. See? That’s all.
My life has actually taken on an odd new kind of ritualization. Being unemployed has forced me to find new habits and to constantly seek out things to do. The biggest item of continuity on that list is my obsessive gym habit. I found myself a nice trainer named Alex whose sole goal in life is to wipe the smile off my face – it hasn’t worked yet, but he’s certainly made a few of my day-after’s less enjoyable. I am in the gym about 3 days a week now, and on my bike about 3. When the weather is abysmal (like today), I have more gym days. I spend about an hour and a half in the gym each time, and around two to three hours on my bike. It’s a painful process at times, but I hope it makes me suck that much less when it comes to the big 100 miler in June.
I have also taken up cooking quite a bit. Corinne got a taste of my leek soufflé when she was in town last week, but Vince has reaped most of the culinary benefits. The big item on the menu this week is lamb medallions with shallots, tarragon and red wine. (Mom, you’ll be happy to know that I even made your favorite bruschetta this week!) You can tell I’ve been cooking a lot since Vince has developed such a cute little tummy!
Other than that, I’ve continued my job hunt (unsuccessfully), and read a few books (most notably started Robert Jordan’s Wheel of Time series, and read the Audrey Hepburn biography by Barry Paris) – real exciting, huh?
Anyway, I must be off! I am meeting with one of Jeff’s friends who works for Random House…
Sunday, March 14, 2004
Interesting things I’ve done this week: felt like a pimp sitting in the back row of an all-male, gay strip club; watched Secret Things (2002, France) with Starr and caught myself laughing out loud at the all but dramatic ending; and still managed to stay unemployed.
Of course, today I am drawing inspiration from my friend Jeff’s resume and plan on working the rest of the evening on re-writing my resume in several different formats. I haven’t yet decided which career path to truly follow so this is a difficult undertaking. In Jeff’s case, he has a very serious angle, focusing on business, engineering, and teaching. His resume is phenomenal and I would hire him right this second if I was CEO of a major company… However, mine still looks pitiful for the careers I have been eyeing. I will just have to try harder. So that’s my assignment tonight.
As for the rest of my life, Vincent is now home with me, having returned back to New York on Friday night for reasons I like to put together under one heading: “Ryan’s happiness.” I am still training to be all I can be for my century biking challenge, having spent the past week getting my tush kicked – KICKED – by my teammates. I don’t think I’ve spent this much time on a bike and running since high school. Perhaps even earlier – my childhood bicycle has been on permanent retirement for about eleven years now…
In any case, all my friends and family have been incredible in helping me out with the fundraising aspect of my athleticism. I honestly never thought I would get so much response, this much support. It’s amazing. If for no other reason, I’m going to have to finish this race for all of you…
So, things to look forward to: Murder Mystery weekend at Brookview Manor next weekend; updating my bicycle to more competitive standards and training (i.e. trying not to fall) on it; and getting a job.
Wish me luck, kiddos…
Of course, today I am drawing inspiration from my friend Jeff’s resume and plan on working the rest of the evening on re-writing my resume in several different formats. I haven’t yet decided which career path to truly follow so this is a difficult undertaking. In Jeff’s case, he has a very serious angle, focusing on business, engineering, and teaching. His resume is phenomenal and I would hire him right this second if I was CEO of a major company… However, mine still looks pitiful for the careers I have been eyeing. I will just have to try harder. So that’s my assignment tonight.
As for the rest of my life, Vincent is now home with me, having returned back to New York on Friday night for reasons I like to put together under one heading: “Ryan’s happiness.” I am still training to be all I can be for my century biking challenge, having spent the past week getting my tush kicked – KICKED – by my teammates. I don’t think I’ve spent this much time on a bike and running since high school. Perhaps even earlier – my childhood bicycle has been on permanent retirement for about eleven years now…
In any case, all my friends and family have been incredible in helping me out with the fundraising aspect of my athleticism. I honestly never thought I would get so much response, this much support. It’s amazing. If for no other reason, I’m going to have to finish this race for all of you…
So, things to look forward to: Murder Mystery weekend at Brookview Manor next weekend; updating my bicycle to more competitive standards and training (i.e. trying not to fall) on it; and getting a job.
Wish me luck, kiddos…
Tuesday, March 09, 2004
Have you ever been unemployed for a long period of time? I’m going on three weeks and I don’t think I’ve been this stagnant since…since… well, never. At least when I was seven or eight, I was building folding-chair huts with my neighbor, Matt, so we could make-out in privacy when I had free time. Now I am just laying around on the faux-wood floors, staring at the ceiling, and wishing that SOMEONE wasn’t working and would answer their cell phone!!!
The only thing that I seem to be able to focus on (other than applying for something like 10-20 jobs a day) is my daily workout regimen. Today I went biking for an hour down the West Side Highway. It was cold. I suck at bike riding. And thankfully, I missed the onslaught of rain which has numbed my area of the world for the past few days.
Of course, Vincent is also out of town. Apparently, the good ol’ boys over at ACS need to know what the product they just sold to Washington (state) ACTUALLY does so Vince is down in Lexington giving them a grand tour, PowerPoint style. I am so glad that I am not there – he has something like 87 slides!!!!
In any case, I hadn’t written anything to you guys for a few days so I thought you might miss my “words of wisdom.” I’m afraid I have nothing positive today.
Best of luck with your day.
The only thing that I seem to be able to focus on (other than applying for something like 10-20 jobs a day) is my daily workout regimen. Today I went biking for an hour down the West Side Highway. It was cold. I suck at bike riding. And thankfully, I missed the onslaught of rain which has numbed my area of the world for the past few days.
Of course, Vincent is also out of town. Apparently, the good ol’ boys over at ACS need to know what the product they just sold to Washington (state) ACTUALLY does so Vince is down in Lexington giving them a grand tour, PowerPoint style. I am so glad that I am not there – he has something like 87 slides!!!!
In any case, I hadn’t written anything to you guys for a few days so I thought you might miss my “words of wisdom.” I’m afraid I have nothing positive today.
Best of luck with your day.
Thursday, March 04, 2004
More fun from the wacky world of my friends:
You're Fahrenheit 451!
by Ray Bradbury
Having wanted to be a firefighter much of your life, you've recently iscovered the job wasn't exactly what you were looking for. While ignorance seems like the result of oppression, it all began with people just wanting to be ignorant. As you realize more about the sordid world around you, you decide to watch less TV and work on your memorization skills. Though your memory will save you in the end, don't forget to practice running from dogs as well.
Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.
Thursday, February 26, 2004
After eight years with leukemia, and about seven months bedridden, my Nonnie passed away last Saturday. We are burying her this Saturday, February 28th, to mark her 78th birthday.
I wish I could say it is one of those times in your life when your family and friends come together and you feel, if not exactly - at least in some twisted demento world, like the Cleaver family. Unfortunately, that has not been the case for my mother, my Aunt Kathy, and my grandfather - who have singlehandedly done the bulk of the "work" of taking care of my grandmother these past few months (my grandfather even developed a hernia through all this and just got out of surgery on Tuesday). We opted to have a wake and a private family-only funeral, and now we are actually fielding calls from family friends who are expressing their dissapointment at not being invited to the interment. I can't believe people are so rude as to put their grieving before that of the immediate family. I understand that people are upset, and that they came and sat with Nonnie while she was sick - some of them even changed her, fed her, and bathed her - but honestly, where do they get off?! After expending so much emotional and physical energy for seven months, who has anything left to console others? Why should my mother dread the wake and funeral, knowing that they will be occassions for her to listen to other peoples' sorrows instead of being able to grieve for her own mother? I don't understand how people can be so cruel.
In any case, I am in Massachusetts for the services, and especially for my mom. I am quite stoic, as per my usual self, dealing out "thank you's" and hugs and a listening ear. As you can imagine, my house has been much like a revolving door since I arrived, and I have heard many stories about my grandmother that have made us all laugh and cry... My only wish is that this wasn't so stressful for my mom. She's a real survivor, that lady. Only a few more days and this will all be over.
Well, for the most part. There is always the question of my grandmother's belongings. My sincerest hope is that, in these past several months while she was sick, no one has stolen any of her things. I don't know if there's a will or not, but that doesn't matter. I want things to be as Nonnie wanted them, and, barring that possibility, as the family decides as a unit. Frankly, it pisses me off when I find out that things have gone missing from the house. Since my grandmother is a packrat, it is still possible that things are just lost, not missing. So I hope for that.
(Sigh.) The whole situation just makes me angry. This should be a time for people to remember who she was, in the good and bad times, and to cherish those memories. It shouldn't be a time to disrespect the family, forge new arguments, and steal from my grandmother....
With that in mind, while I was jogging around the cemetery this morning (I know - how morose! Even more so when you consider that they were actually digging my grandmother's plot today...), I was thinking about the future. More specifically, about the day when mine is no longer up to me - when I die. And I decided that when I die (barring a future will and any changes therein), I want to be cremated. There will be NO funeral and NO wake. A group of my friends and closest family members will be invited to take my ashes on "vacation" to some distant country to which I've never trekked, and pour my remains in some body of water so I can travel for as long as my ashes will be carried. That's it. No great revelations, no wearing black - nothing. I just want someone to bring me on some permanent vacation...
Well, that's enough of that. I wanted to give those of you who are wondering about me a heads up, and even for those of you who are NOT wondering, I wanted to make you wish you were.
I love you all.
I wish I could say it is one of those times in your life when your family and friends come together and you feel, if not exactly - at least in some twisted demento world, like the Cleaver family. Unfortunately, that has not been the case for my mother, my Aunt Kathy, and my grandfather - who have singlehandedly done the bulk of the "work" of taking care of my grandmother these past few months (my grandfather even developed a hernia through all this and just got out of surgery on Tuesday). We opted to have a wake and a private family-only funeral, and now we are actually fielding calls from family friends who are expressing their dissapointment at not being invited to the interment. I can't believe people are so rude as to put their grieving before that of the immediate family. I understand that people are upset, and that they came and sat with Nonnie while she was sick - some of them even changed her, fed her, and bathed her - but honestly, where do they get off?! After expending so much emotional and physical energy for seven months, who has anything left to console others? Why should my mother dread the wake and funeral, knowing that they will be occassions for her to listen to other peoples' sorrows instead of being able to grieve for her own mother? I don't understand how people can be so cruel.
In any case, I am in Massachusetts for the services, and especially for my mom. I am quite stoic, as per my usual self, dealing out "thank you's" and hugs and a listening ear. As you can imagine, my house has been much like a revolving door since I arrived, and I have heard many stories about my grandmother that have made us all laugh and cry... My only wish is that this wasn't so stressful for my mom. She's a real survivor, that lady. Only a few more days and this will all be over.
Well, for the most part. There is always the question of my grandmother's belongings. My sincerest hope is that, in these past several months while she was sick, no one has stolen any of her things. I don't know if there's a will or not, but that doesn't matter. I want things to be as Nonnie wanted them, and, barring that possibility, as the family decides as a unit. Frankly, it pisses me off when I find out that things have gone missing from the house. Since my grandmother is a packrat, it is still possible that things are just lost, not missing. So I hope for that.
(Sigh.) The whole situation just makes me angry. This should be a time for people to remember who she was, in the good and bad times, and to cherish those memories. It shouldn't be a time to disrespect the family, forge new arguments, and steal from my grandmother....
With that in mind, while I was jogging around the cemetery this morning (I know - how morose! Even more so when you consider that they were actually digging my grandmother's plot today...), I was thinking about the future. More specifically, about the day when mine is no longer up to me - when I die. And I decided that when I die (barring a future will and any changes therein), I want to be cremated. There will be NO funeral and NO wake. A group of my friends and closest family members will be invited to take my ashes on "vacation" to some distant country to which I've never trekked, and pour my remains in some body of water so I can travel for as long as my ashes will be carried. That's it. No great revelations, no wearing black - nothing. I just want someone to bring me on some permanent vacation...
Well, that's enough of that. I wanted to give those of you who are wondering about me a heads up, and even for those of you who are NOT wondering, I wanted to make you wish you were.
I love you all.
Sunday, February 15, 2004
Ah, Valentine’s Day. Another useless, overly commercial holiday where people run out into the great wide world of opportunists and make an art form out of consumerism.
That being said, I enjoyed my holiday. More to the point, I’ve enjoyed my whole week out of work. I feel a little better knowing that I now have the time to get a few things done. Like meeting the Fab 5. Yeah, the guys from Queer Eye for the Straight Guy! They did this promotion with Virgin Megastore for their new CD, and Vince went out and purchased it so I could get an armband. The armband allowed us to stand outside Virgin on Friday night for two hours for the opportunity to meet 5 of the most famous gay men today. I want you all to know that I got to kiss, and be kissed by, Kyan, Thom, Jai, AND Ted (and as the woman behind me kept screaming, “Kyan is so HOT!” – with extreme emphasis on the word “HOT!” Of course, my constant reply was, “Yeah, but he’s GAY.” Oh well, I tried.).
Carson was the first boy I met and I was totally unprepared. The security at the event gave you about two seconds in front of each person before they ushered you on. So yeah, after two hours in the cold, where my toes were nothing more than blocks of ice in my non-winter shoes, I hadn’t thought of something witty to say to Carson in the whole two seconds of time I was allotted.
However, Carson was on HIS game so I was thoroughly complimented on my sweater (which was repeated by 4 out of 5 gay boys) and by gay boy number 2 I had found something interesting to say. And managed a few kisses. Nothing compares to my make-out sessions with Jimmy (he’ll ALWAYS be my number one gay boy!!!), but it made my night.
Of course, Vincent had no interest in being there so he did his best to take pictures around the security guards (usually failing). Here’s what he was able to snap:
That night I also got to see opening night of 50 First Dates – that new movie with Adam Sandler and Drew Barrymore. The reason I bring this up is because Vincent actually cried. And I want you all to go out and see the kind of movie he connects to. It’ll be an experience. And at the very least, it’s an enjoyable romantic comedy…
After the movie we were supposed to meet up with Mel and Andrew, but Mel couldn’t hold her liquor at dinner (some things just never change) so it was just Vincent, me, Andrew and about a million Penn grads in town for the Penn game. I reconnected with David, who received a ride from Washington D.C. to Philadelphia from us about two-three years ago and we dropped him off right ON I-676 because the traffic was so bad. I also got to see Brian (remember him, Michelle?), who was once of the belief that I am a lesbian. I don’t know if that’s changed, but I guess it’s good that he wasn’t around for the $40 transaction that occurred last time Andrew was in town.
In any case, we drank a fish bowl full of alcohol (which is incidentally how Andrew got this alligator):
I had a good time – even if Andrew kept trying to cop a feel to determine if I really got my nipples pierced!
And the only other thing I have to show you guys is this:
I was there when Jeremy Roenick took a puck to the face and broke his jaw. It was unreal. I mean, you’re always accustomed to all the heavy hitting and all that is beautifully aggressive about the game of hockey, but that much blood is usually not an occurrence. Then about thirty seconds later, another “star” player, Primeau, was taken out of the game for taking a hit to the face.
I still hold to my opinion that hockey is the most beautiful, graceful violence I’ve ever encountered, of course.
That being said, I enjoyed my holiday. More to the point, I’ve enjoyed my whole week out of work. I feel a little better knowing that I now have the time to get a few things done. Like meeting the Fab 5. Yeah, the guys from Queer Eye for the Straight Guy! They did this promotion with Virgin Megastore for their new CD, and Vince went out and purchased it so I could get an armband. The armband allowed us to stand outside Virgin on Friday night for two hours for the opportunity to meet 5 of the most famous gay men today. I want you all to know that I got to kiss, and be kissed by, Kyan, Thom, Jai, AND Ted (and as the woman behind me kept screaming, “Kyan is so HOT!” – with extreme emphasis on the word “HOT!” Of course, my constant reply was, “Yeah, but he’s GAY.” Oh well, I tried.).
Carson was the first boy I met and I was totally unprepared. The security at the event gave you about two seconds in front of each person before they ushered you on. So yeah, after two hours in the cold, where my toes were nothing more than blocks of ice in my non-winter shoes, I hadn’t thought of something witty to say to Carson in the whole two seconds of time I was allotted.
However, Carson was on HIS game so I was thoroughly complimented on my sweater (which was repeated by 4 out of 5 gay boys) and by gay boy number 2 I had found something interesting to say. And managed a few kisses. Nothing compares to my make-out sessions with Jimmy (he’ll ALWAYS be my number one gay boy!!!), but it made my night.
Of course, Vincent had no interest in being there so he did his best to take pictures around the security guards (usually failing). Here’s what he was able to snap:
That night I also got to see opening night of 50 First Dates – that new movie with Adam Sandler and Drew Barrymore. The reason I bring this up is because Vincent actually cried. And I want you all to go out and see the kind of movie he connects to. It’ll be an experience. And at the very least, it’s an enjoyable romantic comedy…
After the movie we were supposed to meet up with Mel and Andrew, but Mel couldn’t hold her liquor at dinner (some things just never change
In any case, we drank a fish bowl full of alcohol (which is incidentally how Andrew got this alligator):
I had a good time – even if Andrew kept trying to cop a feel to determine if I really got my nipples pierced!
And the only other thing I have to show you guys is this:
I was there when Jeremy Roenick took a puck to the face and broke his jaw. It was unreal. I mean, you’re always accustomed to all the heavy hitting and all that is beautifully aggressive about the game of hockey, but that much blood is usually not an occurrence. Then about thirty seconds later, another “star” player, Primeau, was taken out of the game for taking a hit to the face.
I still hold to my opinion that hockey is the most beautiful, graceful violence I’ve ever encountered, of course.
Thursday, February 12, 2004
Well, I’m unemployed, but that’s not what I want to write about today (I’ll save that lovely story for some other time…).
While I was at Animal Fair, I came across this random questionnaire while trying to figure out the content of a Seattle magazine, and I think it’s hilarious (so were the people’s answers by the way) that I wanted to post it here – with my ridiculously amused answers:
1. what is the coolest accessory/clothing item you own?
2. who is the coolest character from a book or film?
3. where is the coolest place you've been?
4. what is the coolest car you've ever been in?
5. how old were you when you discovered what "cool" meant?
6. would you rather be "hot" or "cool"?
7. on a scale of 1-10, how important is it to be cool?
8. if you are not being cool, you are being ____.
9. when is it not cool to be cool?
10. on a scale of 1-10 how cool are you?
Some of the people who answered these questions were totally arrogant and into themselves, while others were totally lacking in self-confidence. Somehow there was no one who really fell into a grey area. Let’s see how well I straddle that grey fence!
1. My Happy Harry the Hippo socks! They make me smile. (For those of you who have no idea, Harry was my Christmas tree / Hannukah Bush during college and all my friends came over for a holiday party and decorated him with lights and handmade ornaments. Harry now resides with Mommy and Daddy A. in Los Angeles. In exchange, Michelle, their spawn of a child, gave me Happy Harry the Hippo socks – yay! Oh, and Harry’s a big, soft, lovable Hippo.)
2. Garfield. He doesn’t care what anybody thinks, and he does his own thing: lasagna, mailing cute kittens to Abu Dhabi and napping like a hardcore narcoleptic.
3. People always like my story about traveling to Sharm El Sheikh, Egypt, with Secretary of State Powell for some Middle East Peace Talks with Middle East leaders and President Bush (2003). And I got to go snorkeling for the first time – in the Red Sea!
4. Hands down, my mom’s little red MG. But if I had my druthers, it would be a 1973 Bronco, the one that looks like a magnified Hot Wheels.
5. I still don’t know what “cool” means.
6. “Cool.” Because “hot” usually refers to physical characteristics, which always fade over time. “Cool” to me is a way of being, and that only gets better with age!
7. It’s not. What’s important in life is that you work on yourself, mold yourself into the person you want to be, each day of your life. “Coolness” is just a side show, a derivative of this attempt at LIVING.
8. If I’m not being “cool”, I am being myself.
9. This question is retarded. Who came up with this questionnaire??!
10. You tell me.
While I was at Animal Fair, I came across this random questionnaire while trying to figure out the content of a Seattle magazine, and I think it’s hilarious (so were the people’s answers by the way) that I wanted to post it here – with my ridiculously amused answers:
1. what is the coolest accessory/clothing item you own?
2. who is the coolest character from a book or film?
3. where is the coolest place you've been?
4. what is the coolest car you've ever been in?
5. how old were you when you discovered what "cool" meant?
6. would you rather be "hot" or "cool"?
7. on a scale of 1-10, how important is it to be cool?
8. if you are not being cool, you are being ____.
9. when is it not cool to be cool?
10. on a scale of 1-10 how cool are you?
Some of the people who answered these questions were totally arrogant and into themselves, while others were totally lacking in self-confidence. Somehow there was no one who really fell into a grey area. Let’s see how well I straddle that grey fence!
1. My Happy Harry the Hippo socks! They make me smile. (For those of you who have no idea, Harry was my Christmas tree / Hannukah Bush during college and all my friends came over for a holiday party and decorated him with lights and handmade ornaments. Harry now resides with Mommy and Daddy A. in Los Angeles. In exchange, Michelle, their spawn of a child, gave me Happy Harry the Hippo socks – yay! Oh, and Harry’s a big, soft, lovable Hippo.)
2. Garfield. He doesn’t care what anybody thinks, and he does his own thing: lasagna, mailing cute kittens to Abu Dhabi and napping like a hardcore narcoleptic.
3. People always like my story about traveling to Sharm El Sheikh, Egypt, with Secretary of State Powell for some Middle East Peace Talks with Middle East leaders and President Bush (2003). And I got to go snorkeling for the first time – in the Red Sea!
4. Hands down, my mom’s little red MG. But if I had my druthers, it would be a 1973 Bronco, the one that looks like a magnified Hot Wheels.
5. I still don’t know what “cool” means.
6. “Cool.” Because “hot” usually refers to physical characteristics, which always fade over time. “Cool” to me is a way of being, and that only gets better with age!
7. It’s not. What’s important in life is that you work on yourself, mold yourself into the person you want to be, each day of your life. “Coolness” is just a side show, a derivative of this attempt at LIVING.
8. If I’m not being “cool”
9. This question is retarded. Who came up with this questionnaire??!
10. You tell me.
Friday, February 06, 2004
Things Today That Make Me Happy: the sound of rain, the dry heat of the heater on my frozen toes, wearing the softest shirt I own, petting the cat and watching him enjoy the attention, riding the subway and reading my latest book find (My Year of Meats), thinking about last night’s movie with Vincent and Dara (The Station Agent), reaching out to strangers on the phone and finding out that they’re nice and want to talk to me, eating my hot oatmeal and sipping my chamomile tea, dreaming about going home and taking a bath, knowing I will quit this unsatisfying job within a week…
I MUST tell you about this really silly conversation I’ve been having lately at work! So to catch you up: yeah, I still work at the animal place; yeah, I am still working on the book tour extraordinaire; yeah, I am still trying to talk NFL players into attending a doggie cocktail party – NOW QUIT LAUGHING!!!
SO. (Buttons.) (a little The Truth About Cats And Dogs humor for ya) I’ve been talking to one player’s agent, and that agent keeps talking about massage. Apparently it’s his passion in life. In my first actual conversation with him, he offers me one of his NY masseuse’s sessions – for free! And every five minutes he keeps saying, “I don’t even normally return my phone calls. I don’t know how you’re keeping me on the phone, but either you’re really a REAL person, or you’re an incredibly good salesperson.” So I told him the truth: I SUCK at sales.
The next day, his INCREDIBLY gay assistant returns one of my calls (I'm talking SO gay that even my baby boyfriend Jimmy looks straight!). Somehow he manages to work several personal questions about my physical appearance into the conversation and I’m beginning to think that he and “Boss,” as he likes to call this agent, are scheming together to hit on me. Then Teri (that’s the assistant) makes me pinky swear not to tell Boss anything we’ve discussed. He also tells me that I must have made a good impression because I am on the 1st must-call list, between Dan Merino and some Congressman. (Don't ask! I have no idea what I did!!!)
So moving onto conversation number two with Boss: he says, “If you and your boys, or your boyfriend, or your husband, or whatever, ever want to get a way for a weekend – there’s a bunch of great spas here in Miami.” Oh yeah, Boss lives half the year in Miami, half in New York. Continuing on… “If you ever want, just give me a call and I’ll send my plane out to get you guys.” So I’m flipping out… it’s the most amusement and fun I’ve had at work since I started!!! You can’t make this stuff up!!!
For instance, Boss picked up Teri on vacation in Arizona several years back (Uh, Boss is straight though). Teri was their (i.e. Boss + one amazingly beautiful girlfriend) cabana boy, and Boss was so impressed that he convinced him to return to NYC and work for him. Now that’s the kind of break in life I’m looking for! Teri travels between NY and Miami helping Boss out, and he occasionally gets to go on vacation with him! Teri brings his boyfriend and they have a wonderful time! It is also my understanding that Teri gets paid quite well for his assistance.
Where do I get myself a Boss-man/woman?!
SO. (Buttons.) (a little The Truth About Cats And Dogs humor for ya) I’ve been talking to one player’s agent, and that agent keeps talking about massage. Apparently it’s his passion in life. In my first actual conversation with him, he offers me one of his NY masseuse’s sessions – for free! And every five minutes he keeps saying, “I don’t even normally return my phone calls. I don’t know how you’re keeping me on the phone, but either you’re really a REAL person, or you’re an incredibly good salesperson.” So I told him the truth: I SUCK at sales.
The next day, his INCREDIBLY gay assistant returns one of my calls (I'm talking SO gay that even my baby boyfriend Jimmy looks straight!). Somehow he manages to work several personal questions about my physical appearance into the conversation and I’m beginning to think that he and “Boss,” as he likes to call this agent, are scheming together to hit on me. Then Teri (that’s the assistant) makes me pinky swear not to tell Boss anything we’ve discussed. He also tells me that I must have made a good impression because I am on the 1st must-call list, between Dan Merino and some Congressman. (Don't ask! I have no idea what I did!!!)
So moving onto conversation number two with Boss: he says, “If you and your boys, or your boyfriend, or your husband, or whatever, ever want to get a way for a weekend – there’s a bunch of great spas here in Miami.” Oh yeah, Boss lives half the year in Miami, half in New York. Continuing on… “If you ever want, just give me a call and I’ll send my plane out to get you guys.” So I’m flipping out… it’s the most amusement and fun I’ve had at work since I started!!! You can’t make this stuff up!!!
For instance, Boss picked up Teri on vacation in Arizona several years back (Uh, Boss is straight though). Teri was their (i.e. Boss + one amazingly beautiful girlfriend) cabana boy, and Boss was so impressed that he convinced him to return to NYC and work for him. Now that’s the kind of break in life I’m looking for! Teri travels between NY and Miami helping Boss out, and he occasionally gets to go on vacation with him! Teri brings his boyfriend and they have a wonderful time! It is also my understanding that Teri gets paid quite well for his assistance.
Where do I get myself a Boss-man/woman?!
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