The problem with adventures is that while you're busy having them, you don't have time to write.
Hence the silence of late.
So much is going on right now that a short post feels necessary, yet I have so much to say. Maybe once my life dust settles, again, a little, I can tell you more, but for now, a quick update.
1. My novel in a month has morphed into a novel in however long it takes me to finish. I'm excited about the 22,000 or so words I've written. I love my stories and the characters and the themes I've seemed to fall into--tragedy, love, sadness, loss, the strength of the human spirit, relationships, faith. I'm excited to get back to it, as I've been busy the past two weeks, what with
2. MOVING INTO MY VERY OWN APARTMENT!!!!! Those of you who have been listening to me complain about my current living "situation" can now rest easy that I will no longer have an evil roommate to complain about, as I have found the most adorable, sun-filled, cozy little one bedroom there ever was, all to myself. Thanks to the new job, I am finally able to afford to live on my own, and God or fate or what (or who) have you sent this lovely gift my way. I can't wait to move on Friday and finally have some dedicated space for writing, and a quiet street outside my window, and freedom to come and go as i please without someone looking over my shoulder. The commute is longer, and I'm moving out of Manhattan into Brooklyn, but I'm excited to have more time to read on the train to and from work every day, and I can't wait to explore a part of New York that I'm so unfamiliar with.
3. My new job has been verrry busy lately, and I'm still learning the ropes, but my good friend Okie is just a few desks away, and he makes sure to keep me grounded with a morning reading of Rilke or a fun fact about Thomas Jefferson or to just check on me when he hears me screetching "Oh my God, you want WHAT? WHEN?" into my telephone. I'm also getting over the awkward "new girl" hump and am getting to know my coworkers, who, for the most part, are awesome. Especially the socially awkward editors. I feel right at home.
Did I mention that my new apartment will be within walking distance of at least 4 of my friends?!? How lucky am I?
Remind me to tell you about riding the Coney Island float in the Village Halloween Parade with Leslie and dressing as Bristol Palin for my friend Holly's Halloween party.
All my love and Autumn bliss,
Lizzie
Showing posts with label happy-ness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label happy-ness. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
this is my brain on drugs
Hello my darling farphenugens! (yeah, that's how you spell that) (no, i don't know what a farphenugen is) (stop asking fucking questions)
It has been so long since we've communicated via blogoverse (yup, just made it up. like universe, only with blog at the beginning. and yes, i've copyrighted it, so don't even think about it) (yes, even though I just made it up) (shut your mouth! I'm talking!)
hummm, right. So, didja miss me? Because I missed you. Terribly. While i was frolicking amongst the radioactive waste in Lake Michigan and ducking from pretend gangsters in Chicago's south side and hitting on hot artists with families [shameless, i know, but i was on vacation...free pass!] at jazz festivals. oh, also ripping the tails off of boiled crawfish and sucking the sweet spicy creole-seasoned succulent flesh out of them while i stared into their lifeless beady black eyes. and picking their antennae out of my teeth. and THEN, i missed you even more whilst jazz-fingering my toes into the sweet moist north carolina sand while the dictator, king prince nephew Kole directed my sand-castle construction and water carrying duties ("Get more water!" he cried. And so I did.) and then watching my sister be obliterated by waves that were at least 4 feet above her 6 foot high head (awesome. seriously. awesome.) and riding waves via boogie board and learning (the hard way) just which bikini bottoms were conducive to wave riding. and which, unfortunately, were not.
henceforth, i will always recommend a one-piece for wave riding, though i feel that the one-piece interferes with one's ability to catch the eye of passing adult married males with children (the only kind available, apparently, during the first week of September in the OUter Banks).
As you can see, I barely managed without you.
OH, hai! Do you know what time it is?? It's time for me to take some more sinus infection medication! Hold up...one sec...ahhh, very nice. Congestion, begone! Right, and those were the nighttime kind, so i probably should wrap this up before i pass out in a pool of my own slobber and mucus.
and i still don't understand why noone wants to date me. hum.
on the bright side, i'm 3 for 3 on getting my used tissues in the garbage can from across the room.
so, to conclude, i had a lovely time on my vacation, and i really did miss you (even if i pretend to be strong and say that i didn't), and i just started a new job yesterday, and I'm getting a new roommate next week, AND I'm planning on doing the National Novel Writing Month with a few writer friends again in October. So, lots going on! oh, AND i have a sinus infection! (i forgot that part) but hopefully that'll go away soon.
And now, to fall into a drug-induced stupor, but not a pseudoephedrine-induced stupor. because the meth people ruined it for all of us.
assholes.
It has been so long since we've communicated via blogoverse (yup, just made it up. like universe, only with blog at the beginning. and yes, i've copyrighted it, so don't even think about it) (yes, even though I just made it up) (shut your mouth! I'm talking!)
hummm, right. So, didja miss me? Because I missed you. Terribly. While i was frolicking amongst the radioactive waste in Lake Michigan and ducking from pretend gangsters in Chicago's south side and hitting on hot artists with families [shameless, i know, but i was on vacation...free pass!] at jazz festivals. oh, also ripping the tails off of boiled crawfish and sucking the sweet spicy creole-seasoned succulent flesh out of them while i stared into their lifeless beady black eyes. and picking their antennae out of my teeth. and THEN, i missed you even more whilst jazz-fingering my toes into the sweet moist north carolina sand while the dictator, king prince nephew Kole directed my sand-castle construction and water carrying duties ("Get more water!" he cried. And so I did.) and then watching my sister be obliterated by waves that were at least 4 feet above her 6 foot high head (awesome. seriously. awesome.) and riding waves via boogie board and learning (the hard way) just which bikini bottoms were conducive to wave riding. and which, unfortunately, were not.
henceforth, i will always recommend a one-piece for wave riding, though i feel that the one-piece interferes with one's ability to catch the eye of passing adult married males with children (the only kind available, apparently, during the first week of September in the OUter Banks).
As you can see, I barely managed without you.
OH, hai! Do you know what time it is?? It's time for me to take some more sinus infection medication! Hold up...one sec...ahhh, very nice. Congestion, begone! Right, and those were the nighttime kind, so i probably should wrap this up before i pass out in a pool of my own slobber and mucus.
and i still don't understand why noone wants to date me. hum.
on the bright side, i'm 3 for 3 on getting my used tissues in the garbage can from across the room.
so, to conclude, i had a lovely time on my vacation, and i really did miss you (even if i pretend to be strong and say that i didn't), and i just started a new job yesterday, and I'm getting a new roommate next week, AND I'm planning on doing the National Novel Writing Month with a few writer friends again in October. So, lots going on! oh, AND i have a sinus infection! (i forgot that part) but hopefully that'll go away soon.
And now, to fall into a drug-induced stupor, but not a pseudoephedrine-induced stupor. because the meth people ruined it for all of us.
assholes.
Friday, July 25, 2008
which way to mecca?
I work a block away from the big Macy's, you know, the one they show every year during the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade. the closest public outdoor space is Harold Square, a concrete triangle of tree-lined metal chairs and tables wedged between Sixth Avenue and Broadway. It is hot. It is loud. It is full of tourists. So today, seeking some actual grass and a little peace and quiet with my sun, I wandered down to Madison Square Park, which is quieter, shadier, breezier, nannies pushing strollers and toddlers drunk-stumbling into the paths of texting business people. I had an entire bench to myself, and so spread out in the shade to read Annie Dillard's "The Maytrees." If you haven't read it, please do. It is a beautifully simple love story set on the beach in Rhode Island and currently has me contemplating giving up the city life. Seriously. I don't know how Annie does it, but her ratio of words to the vividity of the picture she paints is ridiculous, as in, zero words = 100% clarity. She is magic.
I read for an hour and got up in a lovely contemplative, zen-like dream state to walk back to work. I turned up Fifth Avenue, and then turned left on 31st Street, my daily route to work because there is a church on the corner with yellow ribbons tied to its fence, and churches make me feel peaceful. I pass at least 3 of them every day on my way to work. It was about 1:45 pm and I saw in front of me two lines of people on the sidewalk, facing north toward some shops, heads bowed, silent. I thought perhaps it was a small vigil of some sort, as the church was on the corner. As I approached, I saw the small carpets and pages of newsprint, the bare feet and empty shoes, the occassional cell phone on the ground. No one looked at me as I passed between the two lines of men, in various dress, many shades of brown. Almost as I came to the end of the line, someone behind me yelled a command and they all at once shifted. Again came the call, and they knelt on their mats like a reverse wave. I felt strange, briefly, as they bowed as I passed. I wondered why they faced north, instead of east. I wondered why this street, out of many. I wondered why at 1:45. I wondered whether the rest of us couldn't use a moment every day to gather with like-minded people to pray, or reflect, or take our thoughts off ourselves and put them onto a higher being or purpose.
It was the same feeling, walking between the rows of praying men, that i have walking past the sleeping Christian churches. Which is interesting because I was raised to believe that the former is evil and latter is good.
I read for an hour and got up in a lovely contemplative, zen-like dream state to walk back to work. I turned up Fifth Avenue, and then turned left on 31st Street, my daily route to work because there is a church on the corner with yellow ribbons tied to its fence, and churches make me feel peaceful. I pass at least 3 of them every day on my way to work. It was about 1:45 pm and I saw in front of me two lines of people on the sidewalk, facing north toward some shops, heads bowed, silent. I thought perhaps it was a small vigil of some sort, as the church was on the corner. As I approached, I saw the small carpets and pages of newsprint, the bare feet and empty shoes, the occassional cell phone on the ground. No one looked at me as I passed between the two lines of men, in various dress, many shades of brown. Almost as I came to the end of the line, someone behind me yelled a command and they all at once shifted. Again came the call, and they knelt on their mats like a reverse wave. I felt strange, briefly, as they bowed as I passed. I wondered why they faced north, instead of east. I wondered why this street, out of many. I wondered why at 1:45. I wondered whether the rest of us couldn't use a moment every day to gather with like-minded people to pray, or reflect, or take our thoughts off ourselves and put them onto a higher being or purpose.
It was the same feeling, walking between the rows of praying men, that i have walking past the sleeping Christian churches. Which is interesting because I was raised to believe that the former is evil and latter is good.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Mermaid Me
The annual Coney Island Mermaid Parade on Saturday was A-MAZING! If you are unfamiliar with the Mermaid Parade, it is an annual event to celebrate the official beginning of summer, and people sign up to march dressed as mermaids, often in groups with themes. This year, our group was the Rydell High School of Fish (Grease, that is). We had Pink Salmon Ladies, we had Sea Birds, we had Bad Sandy, we had Frenchy, we had Beauty School of Fish Dropouts. And then we Grease Lighteninged and Hand Jived our way down the boardwalk and back up Surf Avenue, cameras everywhere, and people in the crowd singing along with our sound system. My favorite group was the Marie Antoinette Mermaids, complete with guillotine float. Here are a few pictures of our group:
The only decent picture of me was taken by some anonymous type A anal retentive on Flickr who reserves absolutely every single right to his or her photos and I have not been able to steal it. Yet. Though I'm in the process of hiring a detective to track this person down, break into their apartment, and steal their hard drive, just for being difficult. Seriously, what's the point of taking pictures if other people can't use them as MySpace profile pics? I'd even be willing to give this person the photo cred. But whatev, here i am, in all of my mermaid glory.
I put up some more on the MySpace, and everyone else looks great, but I mostly just look like a cross between the wicked witch of the west (at some point, green body paint really did seem like a good idea) and a slightly psycopathic weirdo with a hat made out of curlers.
HOWEVER, there were SO MANY amazing, beautiful, crazy, colorful costumes. Though it is hugely biased in favor of the naked/pastied women at the parade, if you search on flickr for "2008 Coney Island Mermaid Parade" you can get a pretty good idea of what i mean. Fantastic! God, I love this city!
Still, though. So. Fun. After the parade, we spent the next several hours drinking beer on the beach, and then the next several hours after THAT drinking beer while walking around and riding the Wonder Wheel and the Cyclone. BTW, the Cyclone is the oldest, most rickety, most amazingly terrifying-because-you-are-afraid-its-going-to-collapse-under-you roller coaster in the history of the universe. If you are within 1000 miles of Coney Island and you have any love for roller coasters at all, you MUST DO IT.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Do What You Want = Be Happy
Yes, it's that time again folks. The time when I realize i haven't blogged in weeks and so must catch you all up in one giant crazy nonsensical stream-of-consciousness post that most of you won't read to the end anyway. Don't worry, it doesn't hurt my feelings. But i'm sure you weren't worried, as stopping reading a post halfway through indicates a) annoyance or b) boredom. probably both. but i'm not here for you (sorry, true). i'm here for me. and i do what i want! yay! and so should you!
here we go:
so i'm perusing myspace today, and i see the profile of this guy i used to ahem "see" who was a friend but isn't so much a friend anymore and i wondered, "Why don't we hang out more?" Before realizing that the answer is that we're too busy boinking other people. i like the word boink as a euphemism for sex. it always gives me the mental image of two people's heads accidentally knocking together in a playful accidental way. which, i guess probably could be a deeper metaphor for sex if i thought about it, but i'm not going to. onward!
This week has been CRAZY. It's so bad that i haven't had time to buy groceries (for those of you who don't know, groceries are very important to me. i don't trust restaurants not to feed me poo-slash-weird chemicals-slash AIDS. and also i'm cheap and hate paying for food.). so i've been subsisting on takeout all week, BUT the upside is that I get to wear TWO (count 'em, two!) costumes this week! Tonight, I get to be a pirate at the jeerleader super-fun band night pirate-themed fundraiser, and then on Saturday, I get to dress like a Beauty School Dropout Mermaid for the annual Coney Island Mermaid Parade. Yipee! Except that my beauty school dropout costume kind of looks like a futuristic military uniform of some sort, minus alien-evaporating ray gun. oh well. i'm sure everyone will understand once i'm hand-jiving. So that should be tons of fun, tonight and Saturday.
So, i've come across two articles in the past few days about changing from being a night person to being a morning person and here's what i think about that:
1. Night people get a bad rap as being lazy, but we aren't, we just function great while the morning people are being old-ish and going to bed at 9 pm.
2. But I don't WANT to be a morning person. I LIKE nighttime.
3. Night people should be able to work their corporate jobs on schedules that fit their sleep patterns. In today's global economy, i would think this would be an asset, as the morning people in Beijing could talk to the night people in the US, then we could have 24-hour-a-day office hours, thereby increasing productivity and strengthening the world global corporate machine. erm, wait. no. nevermind. that would never work. forget i said anything.
And D. There is too much emphasis on changing basic fundamental characteristics of who we are. Instead we should embrace ourselves instead of trying to change. Learn to love your nighttime awakeness, or your small boobs, or your giant schnoz, or your gayness (another article I read was about how they might someday try to "cure" homosexuality in the womb by flooding it with hormones so kids don't become queer...so, so disturbing), or your shyness or weirdness or nerdiness or can't talk to people of the opposite sex-ness. I say EMBRACE IT! Own it! I'm a nerd who doesn't have many friends and i can barely dress myself. so what do i do? I read books naked by myself! That's what. And do you know what else? It makes me happy! And if you're happy, it doesn't matter what other people think. unless killing people or something similar makes you happy. then you have a problem.
I've been writing quite a lot (for me, baby steps) lately, and i have an idea for a book that i've been working on and i'm really excited about it. i briefly (read: for 10 minutes) started to read the novel i wrote last October, but I wasn't really into it. So i stopped. I might revisit it later, when i'm done with my new super-fabulous (fingers crossed!) book idea. I would tell you about it, but I don't want to jinx it. I think it's going to be a cross between memoir, fiction, poetry, and short stories. I hope I can pull it off. But if not, it's still good practice, right? RIGHT! Which reminds me of this artist woman I was reading about who was talking about how adult people should be more like kids in the way that they create their art, as in, kids focus on the act of creating as their main goal, whereas adults focus on how their going to make money (or, rather, on the value of the end result), and how all of us adult artists might be more happy (and productive!) if we focused on the CREATING rather than what it may be worth to other people when we're done. i know that very idea has kept me from writing in the past, and the times when i write the most and best i'm writing to WRITE, not writing for other people. Which goes back to what I said about being happy. Do what you want = be happy. Write to write = be happy. Write worrying about what other people think = be unhappy.
Fantastic.
And finally and most importantly, a big shout out to one of the great loves of my life AND my first wife (her second), Ms. Gwendolyn Glover DeRosa, who was born today not so many years ago and who is a talented, gorgeous budding writer. Happy birthday, Gwen! I love you!
That's all i have for today. Kisses, babies!
here we go:
so i'm perusing myspace today, and i see the profile of this guy i used to ahem "see" who was a friend but isn't so much a friend anymore and i wondered, "Why don't we hang out more?" Before realizing that the answer is that we're too busy boinking other people. i like the word boink as a euphemism for sex. it always gives me the mental image of two people's heads accidentally knocking together in a playful accidental way. which, i guess probably could be a deeper metaphor for sex if i thought about it, but i'm not going to. onward!
This week has been CRAZY. It's so bad that i haven't had time to buy groceries (for those of you who don't know, groceries are very important to me. i don't trust restaurants not to feed me poo-slash-weird chemicals-slash AIDS. and also i'm cheap and hate paying for food.). so i've been subsisting on takeout all week, BUT the upside is that I get to wear TWO (count 'em, two!) costumes this week! Tonight, I get to be a pirate at the jeerleader super-fun band night pirate-themed fundraiser, and then on Saturday, I get to dress like a Beauty School Dropout Mermaid for the annual Coney Island Mermaid Parade. Yipee! Except that my beauty school dropout costume kind of looks like a futuristic military uniform of some sort, minus alien-evaporating ray gun. oh well. i'm sure everyone will understand once i'm hand-jiving. So that should be tons of fun, tonight and Saturday.
So, i've come across two articles in the past few days about changing from being a night person to being a morning person and here's what i think about that:
1. Night people get a bad rap as being lazy, but we aren't, we just function great while the morning people are being old-ish and going to bed at 9 pm.
2. But I don't WANT to be a morning person. I LIKE nighttime.
3. Night people should be able to work their corporate jobs on schedules that fit their sleep patterns. In today's global economy, i would think this would be an asset, as the morning people in Beijing could talk to the night people in the US, then we could have 24-hour-a-day office hours, thereby increasing productivity and strengthening the world global corporate machine. erm, wait. no. nevermind. that would never work. forget i said anything.
And D. There is too much emphasis on changing basic fundamental characteristics of who we are. Instead we should embrace ourselves instead of trying to change. Learn to love your nighttime awakeness, or your small boobs, or your giant schnoz, or your gayness (another article I read was about how they might someday try to "cure" homosexuality in the womb by flooding it with hormones so kids don't become queer...so, so disturbing), or your shyness or weirdness or nerdiness or can't talk to people of the opposite sex-ness. I say EMBRACE IT! Own it! I'm a nerd who doesn't have many friends and i can barely dress myself. so what do i do? I read books naked by myself! That's what. And do you know what else? It makes me happy! And if you're happy, it doesn't matter what other people think. unless killing people or something similar makes you happy. then you have a problem.
I've been writing quite a lot (for me, baby steps) lately, and i have an idea for a book that i've been working on and i'm really excited about it. i briefly (read: for 10 minutes) started to read the novel i wrote last October, but I wasn't really into it. So i stopped. I might revisit it later, when i'm done with my new super-fabulous (fingers crossed!) book idea. I would tell you about it, but I don't want to jinx it. I think it's going to be a cross between memoir, fiction, poetry, and short stories. I hope I can pull it off. But if not, it's still good practice, right? RIGHT! Which reminds me of this artist woman I was reading about who was talking about how adult people should be more like kids in the way that they create their art, as in, kids focus on the act of creating as their main goal, whereas adults focus on how their going to make money (or, rather, on the value of the end result), and how all of us adult artists might be more happy (and productive!) if we focused on the CREATING rather than what it may be worth to other people when we're done. i know that very idea has kept me from writing in the past, and the times when i write the most and best i'm writing to WRITE, not writing for other people. Which goes back to what I said about being happy. Do what you want = be happy. Write to write = be happy. Write worrying about what other people think = be unhappy.
Fantastic.
And finally and most importantly, a big shout out to one of the great loves of my life AND my first wife (her second), Ms. Gwendolyn Glover DeRosa, who was born today not so many years ago and who is a talented, gorgeous budding writer. Happy birthday, Gwen! I love you!
That's all i have for today. Kisses, babies!
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
What is it with my legs?
Helloooo my darling little pumpkin seeds! Isn't everything just so wonderful that you could kiss the world???
Finally, finally, finally, the soul-squelching cold and dark and gray of winter has lifted to reveal blue skies, budding trees, the smell of FLOWERS intermixing with sewage, and the return of...ME WALKING TO WORK! Yes, friends, I have logged, and it's only Wednesday, mind you, a total of 10.5 miles this week! Without hardly breaking a sweat! Do you know how many calories that is? Neither do I! Do you know how many annoying hipsters I haven't had to see (or smell)? Neither do I! Welcome, glorious springtime, welcome welcome welcome to my world!
And tomorrow is supposed to be 70 degrees! I might go to work naked to celebrate.
Or not. Though it may help the "Lizzie needs a promotion so she can afford to live on her own" cause.
Anywho, two things about my walk to work today. Firstly, that I FINALLY broke, and wore, ugh, yes, my running shoes, with, ugh, yes, a skirt. And do you know what happened, friends? Nothing, that's what. My feet walked to work in blissfully arch-supported comfort, and i was nary a scornful look received (i don't know if that made any sense, but whatev. it's my blog, i can write what i want.). IN FACT, I was surprised, yet again (please see blog of last week pertaining to "legs"), by the number of men who saw me walking past and immediately dropped their eyes to my legs to STARE until they were out of my sightline (i have no idea what happened after that). This was accompanied in one instance by a "Mmm, mmm. Good morning, beautiful. Beautiful!" Which i didn't mind, in the least. Though I have to wonder WHOSE LIBIDO IS THAT AWAKE BEFORE 9 AM?? Seriously, I totally get morning sex. No problem. But to actually catcall a woman who is walking TO work in RUNNING SHOES...that takes some serious horniness. in my opinion.
Where was I? Yes, the complete befuddlement of men looking at my legs. I'm just going to blame it on the newly arrived springtime weather which arrived with it the showing of women's appendages that haven't been seen since last October. I mean, if men wore skirts, and then they stopped wearing them in October and they just started wearing them again, I would probably be staring that their legs, too.
Bye babies! More to come!
Finally, finally, finally, the soul-squelching cold and dark and gray of winter has lifted to reveal blue skies, budding trees, the smell of FLOWERS intermixing with sewage, and the return of...ME WALKING TO WORK! Yes, friends, I have logged, and it's only Wednesday, mind you, a total of 10.5 miles this week! Without hardly breaking a sweat! Do you know how many calories that is? Neither do I! Do you know how many annoying hipsters I haven't had to see (or smell)? Neither do I! Welcome, glorious springtime, welcome welcome welcome to my world!
And tomorrow is supposed to be 70 degrees! I might go to work naked to celebrate.
Or not. Though it may help the "Lizzie needs a promotion so she can afford to live on her own" cause.
Anywho, two things about my walk to work today. Firstly, that I FINALLY broke, and wore, ugh, yes, my running shoes, with, ugh, yes, a skirt. And do you know what happened, friends? Nothing, that's what. My feet walked to work in blissfully arch-supported comfort, and i was nary a scornful look received (i don't know if that made any sense, but whatev. it's my blog, i can write what i want.). IN FACT, I was surprised, yet again (please see blog of last week pertaining to "legs"), by the number of men who saw me walking past and immediately dropped their eyes to my legs to STARE until they were out of my sightline (i have no idea what happened after that). This was accompanied in one instance by a "Mmm, mmm. Good morning, beautiful. Beautiful!" Which i didn't mind, in the least. Though I have to wonder WHOSE LIBIDO IS THAT AWAKE BEFORE 9 AM?? Seriously, I totally get morning sex. No problem. But to actually catcall a woman who is walking TO work in RUNNING SHOES...that takes some serious horniness. in my opinion.
Where was I? Yes, the complete befuddlement of men looking at my legs. I'm just going to blame it on the newly arrived springtime weather which arrived with it the showing of women's appendages that haven't been seen since last October. I mean, if men wore skirts, and then they stopped wearing them in October and they just started wearing them again, I would probably be staring that their legs, too.
Bye babies! More to come!
Sunday, February 17, 2008
ONE is the BEST NUMBER EVER!
so, i just discovered the joys of Google Reader. More on this later.
I also just clicked on my own blog in Google Reader and read the title. which is in your view up there right now. and thought..."hmm, haven't been writing on those lines in a couple of weeks." so, i'm going to try to amend that, as winter makes me an angry suicidal depressive and all i want to do is eat, sleep, and murder people with my eyes. right. and yes, there probably is medication for that. but i'm averse to pills and wouldn't take it anyway, so that is a moot point. thank you for pointing it out, though. you are a good friend.
So, due to winter-ness and angry suicidal depressiveness, i haven't been having too many adventures of late. the whole of the last 48 hours or so of mine have been spent largely within the confines of my own apartment, as the evil twins have LEFT THE CITY for the weekend and won't be returning until tuesday at the earliest and wednesday at the latest. i have been reveling in my complete aloneness by leaving as much of my stuff as possible scattered in completely obvious places ALL OVER the common area, watching TV LOUDLY until late into the night, and walking from my room, to the shower, and back again, completely NUDE. Also, i have rearranged the cupboards to just exactly the way i like them (and the freezer, too), smoked INSIDE, and had an imaginary fight in my head with evil roommate 2 about how she is no longer allowed to sit on my couch or use my dishes since she took all of her free-and-now-in-theaters-so-the-only-way-i-can-see-them-is-to-pay-
$11.50-which-i'm-not-going-to-do movies and hid them somewhere. (she works at a talent agency and they get all of the "reviewer" copies of new releases. ER2 USED to put them beside the TV for all of our enjoyment. then they "mysteriously" disappeared. which i'm trying very hard not to be angry about because that would make me just as immature as her. but seriously. she uses my couch. i want to use her movies.)
Moving on. The one thing i HAVEN'T done so far during this gloriously alone all all alone in my apartment alone with no roommates at all all weekend alone for THREE DAYS alone with no roommates, is laundry. Why? You ask. Let me tell you. (i am the queen of segues. did you see what i just did there? brilliant!)
So, i get off the train coming home from work on Valentine's Day, visions of sugar plums dancing in my head (or vascillating wildly between excited expectation and premature disappointment, whatever), when i get an acrid whiff of smoke and notice that there are 6 fire trucks in front of the building across the street, along with several police cruisers and a few pedestrians. being the (proudly) calloused New Yorker that i now am (see previous post), i was tempted to look at my fingernails while passing by seemingly so nonplussed as to NOT EVEN CARE that there were fire trucks across the street, or possibly to not even notice. Until i realized that firemen were carting the burnt remains of washers and dryers out of my very own laundromat!
now, as you know, i am a fun and carefree kind of girl...as long as the fun and the carefree-ness are properly planned out ahead of time. so imagine my dismay as i realized that I AM GOING TO HAVE TO CHANGE LAUNDROMATS. which means
1. Physically finding a new laundromat
2. Carting my 25 pounds of laundry further than across the street
3. Doing my laundry in completely unfamiliar surroundings with unfamiliar neighborhood people
4. Developing an entirely new "laundry routine" (I won't bore you with the old one. but i had it down to a 90-minute science of efficiency and absolute perfection)
5. READJUSTING BACK to my old routine once this laundromat re-opens, if it ever does, but i don't know if it will because what if that mean Asian lady torched the place for the insurance money and now it will be some kind of terrible sushi place or something?
So, I've basically decided never to do laundry again.
Is it just me, or am I becoming crazier and more anal retentive as I age?
All right then, we've covered how i'm alone in my apartment (please do not come kill me, as i am having a lovely time. if you would like to kill one of my crazy roommates, however, please let me know and i'll help you set it up.), how the laundromat burned to the ground (slight exaggeration. everything is still standing, though the building is empty), AND everything I've accomplished this weekend. Oh! Including my taxes! Which i did for the first time by myself and i am anticipating more than one thousand dollars of a refund, which i think is not enough considering that i am a quiet, well-mannered citizen who barely needs any government services at all and believes that her good behavior should be rewarded with a refund of all the money the government didn't personally spend on her this year. which would be all of it. but i'll take the thousand bucks. of my own money. which i gave you and you've been keeping so you can give it back and make me feel good about this whole "I work hard so the government can squander my dollars and i can only afford to live with two crazy people instead of by myself because i pay taxes" racket.
i'm rambling. i know. i'm beginning to remember the occasional downsides to living alone.
1. squalor
2. talking to inanimate objects/using the internet as your sole social outlet
3. eating (ALL THE TIME. no WONDER i used to be so fat!)
4. noticing every single itty bitty tiny noise and thinking it is a large Serbian man who is breaking in with the express purpose of slitting my throat and raping me.
OH! Right! This is the best part. Well, maybe not for you. but i'm excited about it.
so, i haven't really had a chance to sit down since the beginning of the year and really think about my life. i like to do a kind of "life assessment" around this time every year, you know, because it's a new year and my birthday's in february, and i'm a goal-oriented type-A perfectionist who needs to have something to work toward. or...what? i don't know. but it's not pretty.
ANYWHO, you still there? should i stop now? i should. but i don't want to.
anywho, i've been spending a lot of time during the last few days thinking about my "priorities." This is kind of like new year's resolutions but not. so, one of my priorities is to get my finances in order. i'm usually pretty good with money, but since i moved to new york, i've been pretty lax with my expendable income, and as a result, feel like i'm floundering a little bit. SO, the first thing i decided was to write down where every dollar of my money goes for the next month so i can see where i'm spending money. then i can adjust. but what i found has already started to happen is that i'm thinking about my money and where it's going more, and so i'm being more deliberate about how i'm spending it. For example, when i went to the grocery store today, i was comparison shopping the cans of beans. the first can i picked up was 99 cents, which i usually would have just thrown in the cart. but i looked around and i found that the store brand was on sale for only 50 cents! Half price! So, i got out of the grocery store for around $38 bucks with two big bags of food that i guess generally would have cost me around $50 if i hadn't been paying closer attention.
So, i haven't fully formed my "priorities list" or whatever it is i'm going to call it. basically i'm looking at my whole life versus what things are important to me and what goals i want to attain and then tweaking things to achieve/be happy. i'll update you when i've got it mapped out a little better.
enough for now. byeee!
I also just clicked on my own blog in Google Reader and read the title. which is in your view up there right now. and thought..."hmm, haven't been writing on those lines in a couple of weeks." so, i'm going to try to amend that, as winter makes me an angry suicidal depressive and all i want to do is eat, sleep, and murder people with my eyes. right. and yes, there probably is medication for that. but i'm averse to pills and wouldn't take it anyway, so that is a moot point. thank you for pointing it out, though. you are a good friend.
So, due to winter-ness and angry suicidal depressiveness, i haven't been having too many adventures of late. the whole of the last 48 hours or so of mine have been spent largely within the confines of my own apartment, as the evil twins have LEFT THE CITY for the weekend and won't be returning until tuesday at the earliest and wednesday at the latest. i have been reveling in my complete aloneness by leaving as much of my stuff as possible scattered in completely obvious places ALL OVER the common area, watching TV LOUDLY until late into the night, and walking from my room, to the shower, and back again, completely NUDE. Also, i have rearranged the cupboards to just exactly the way i like them (and the freezer, too), smoked INSIDE, and had an imaginary fight in my head with evil roommate 2 about how she is no longer allowed to sit on my couch or use my dishes since she took all of her free-and-now-in-theaters-so-the-only-way-i-can-see-them-is-to-pay-
$11.50-which-i'm-not-going-to-do movies and hid them somewhere. (she works at a talent agency and they get all of the "reviewer" copies of new releases. ER2 USED to put them beside the TV for all of our enjoyment. then they "mysteriously" disappeared. which i'm trying very hard not to be angry about because that would make me just as immature as her. but seriously. she uses my couch. i want to use her movies.)
Moving on. The one thing i HAVEN'T done so far during this gloriously alone all all alone in my apartment alone with no roommates at all all weekend alone for THREE DAYS alone with no roommates, is laundry. Why? You ask. Let me tell you. (i am the queen of segues. did you see what i just did there? brilliant!)
So, i get off the train coming home from work on Valentine's Day, visions of sugar plums dancing in my head (or vascillating wildly between excited expectation and premature disappointment, whatever), when i get an acrid whiff of smoke and notice that there are 6 fire trucks in front of the building across the street, along with several police cruisers and a few pedestrians. being the (proudly) calloused New Yorker that i now am (see previous post), i was tempted to look at my fingernails while passing by seemingly so nonplussed as to NOT EVEN CARE that there were fire trucks across the street, or possibly to not even notice. Until i realized that firemen were carting the burnt remains of washers and dryers out of my very own laundromat!
now, as you know, i am a fun and carefree kind of girl...as long as the fun and the carefree-ness are properly planned out ahead of time. so imagine my dismay as i realized that I AM GOING TO HAVE TO CHANGE LAUNDROMATS. which means
1. Physically finding a new laundromat
2. Carting my 25 pounds of laundry further than across the street
3. Doing my laundry in completely unfamiliar surroundings with unfamiliar neighborhood people
4. Developing an entirely new "laundry routine" (I won't bore you with the old one. but i had it down to a 90-minute science of efficiency and absolute perfection)
5. READJUSTING BACK to my old routine once this laundromat re-opens, if it ever does, but i don't know if it will because what if that mean Asian lady torched the place for the insurance money and now it will be some kind of terrible sushi place or something?
So, I've basically decided never to do laundry again.
Is it just me, or am I becoming crazier and more anal retentive as I age?
All right then, we've covered how i'm alone in my apartment (please do not come kill me, as i am having a lovely time. if you would like to kill one of my crazy roommates, however, please let me know and i'll help you set it up.), how the laundromat burned to the ground (slight exaggeration. everything is still standing, though the building is empty), AND everything I've accomplished this weekend. Oh! Including my taxes! Which i did for the first time by myself and i am anticipating more than one thousand dollars of a refund, which i think is not enough considering that i am a quiet, well-mannered citizen who barely needs any government services at all and believes that her good behavior should be rewarded with a refund of all the money the government didn't personally spend on her this year. which would be all of it. but i'll take the thousand bucks. of my own money. which i gave you and you've been keeping so you can give it back and make me feel good about this whole "I work hard so the government can squander my dollars and i can only afford to live with two crazy people instead of by myself because i pay taxes" racket.
i'm rambling. i know. i'm beginning to remember the occasional downsides to living alone.
1. squalor
2. talking to inanimate objects/using the internet as your sole social outlet
3. eating (ALL THE TIME. no WONDER i used to be so fat!)
4. noticing every single itty bitty tiny noise and thinking it is a large Serbian man who is breaking in with the express purpose of slitting my throat and raping me.
OH! Right! This is the best part. Well, maybe not for you. but i'm excited about it.
so, i haven't really had a chance to sit down since the beginning of the year and really think about my life. i like to do a kind of "life assessment" around this time every year, you know, because it's a new year and my birthday's in february, and i'm a goal-oriented type-A perfectionist who needs to have something to work toward. or...what? i don't know. but it's not pretty.
ANYWHO, you still there? should i stop now? i should. but i don't want to.
anywho, i've been spending a lot of time during the last few days thinking about my "priorities." This is kind of like new year's resolutions but not. so, one of my priorities is to get my finances in order. i'm usually pretty good with money, but since i moved to new york, i've been pretty lax with my expendable income, and as a result, feel like i'm floundering a little bit. SO, the first thing i decided was to write down where every dollar of my money goes for the next month so i can see where i'm spending money. then i can adjust. but what i found has already started to happen is that i'm thinking about my money and where it's going more, and so i'm being more deliberate about how i'm spending it. For example, when i went to the grocery store today, i was comparison shopping the cans of beans. the first can i picked up was 99 cents, which i usually would have just thrown in the cart. but i looked around and i found that the store brand was on sale for only 50 cents! Half price! So, i got out of the grocery store for around $38 bucks with two big bags of food that i guess generally would have cost me around $50 if i hadn't been paying closer attention.
So, i haven't fully formed my "priorities list" or whatever it is i'm going to call it. basically i'm looking at my whole life versus what things are important to me and what goals i want to attain and then tweaking things to achieve/be happy. i'll update you when i've got it mapped out a little better.
enough for now. byeee!
Friday, February 8, 2008
yes, actually, i am planning to party like it's my birthday
BECAUSE IT IS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
i was thinking today, because it's my birthday, about birthdays. specifically, about how people react to their birthdays. i think there are two types of birthday people.
1. The denyers
2. The shameless attention whores
Denyers won't admit, even to themselves, that it's their birthday. They tell no one, they lie about it if someone brings it up, and they shut themselves in their apartments/rooms/closets/bathrooms curled in the fetal position and rocking from side to side, waiting for it all to be over.
Shameless attention whores, on the other hand, begin announcing their birthday NO LATER than six months before the event. This usually begins with me, SHOUTING TO EVERYONE on August 8, "HEY! IT'S MY HALF-BIRTHDAY! GET READY! IN SIX MONTHS, IT WILL BE MY REAL BIRTHDAY!" then giving people weekly updates to let them know just how much longer they have before i expect them to shower me with attention, presents, cake (mmmm, a cake shower...can you even imagine????), love, adoration, facebook comments, text messages, phone calls, singing telegrams, clowns, strippers/exotic dancers, vacations to cabo, etc. also, attention whores pretty much base their self esteem for the entire year on how many people show them love on their birthday.
so far, this is the best birthday i've had since i was 21. AND IT'S ONLY 1:35 PM. AND I'M AT WORK.
I've gotten a LOT of love so far today (strangely, though, no vacations to Cabo. but it's still early). my boyfriend called AND texted at midnight last night, my mom called this morning, and several friends have texted, e-mailed, sent e-cards (2 birthday, 1 mammogram!), called, facebook/myspace messaged/commented, or walked over to my desk to give me a birthday song and dance routine (okay, only one of those. so far. but keep 'em coming.)
ANYHOW, all of that to say that it's been a really really really long time since i had a good birthday (really). and i feel so blessed (agh, i hate that word, but it's true) and lucky to have such a supportive, loving family of friends (and family, too, but mostly friends).
and to not be sitting alone in a big, scary house drinking a bottle of wine by myself and watching "Sex and the City" and crying because i have no friends.
man, 23 was rough.
i heart you all.
thank you for indulging my attention-whoreishness.
i was thinking today, because it's my birthday, about birthdays. specifically, about how people react to their birthdays. i think there are two types of birthday people.
1. The denyers
2. The shameless attention whores
Denyers won't admit, even to themselves, that it's their birthday. They tell no one, they lie about it if someone brings it up, and they shut themselves in their apartments/rooms/closets/bathrooms curled in the fetal position and rocking from side to side, waiting for it all to be over.
Shameless attention whores, on the other hand, begin announcing their birthday NO LATER than six months before the event. This usually begins with me, SHOUTING TO EVERYONE on August 8, "HEY! IT'S MY HALF-BIRTHDAY! GET READY! IN SIX MONTHS, IT WILL BE MY REAL BIRTHDAY!" then giving people weekly updates to let them know just how much longer they have before i expect them to shower me with attention, presents, cake (mmmm, a cake shower...can you even imagine????), love, adoration, facebook comments, text messages, phone calls, singing telegrams, clowns, strippers/exotic dancers, vacations to cabo, etc. also, attention whores pretty much base their self esteem for the entire year on how many people show them love on their birthday.
so far, this is the best birthday i've had since i was 21. AND IT'S ONLY 1:35 PM. AND I'M AT WORK.
I've gotten a LOT of love so far today (strangely, though, no vacations to Cabo. but it's still early). my boyfriend called AND texted at midnight last night, my mom called this morning, and several friends have texted, e-mailed, sent e-cards (2 birthday, 1 mammogram!), called, facebook/myspace messaged/commented, or walked over to my desk to give me a birthday song and dance routine (okay, only one of those. so far. but keep 'em coming.)
ANYHOW, all of that to say that it's been a really really really long time since i had a good birthday (really). and i feel so blessed (agh, i hate that word, but it's true) and lucky to have such a supportive, loving family of friends (and family, too, but mostly friends).
and to not be sitting alone in a big, scary house drinking a bottle of wine by myself and watching "Sex and the City" and crying because i have no friends.
man, 23 was rough.
i heart you all.
thank you for indulging my attention-whoreishness.
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