running commentary

fuckus

2012-01-26T00:38:00.001-05:00

This picture is just cool. And it happens to be something I am working on. Enjoy.

nfc

2012-01-22T17:23:00.001-05:00

Go niners......put it down.

The West coast is the best coast.

cambio

2012-01-19T00:07:00.000-05:00

Play on words, maybe.

"If you focus on results you will never change. If you focus on change, you will get results."

"If you change nothing, nothing changes."

I am trying to make at least one small change everyday. This could be related to anything, but making one small change everyday right now, means that when I add the days up, I should be finally free and clear of this weight that has been dragging me down. I can't blame anything anymore, so change is all that is left.

For example, today the change included limiting what could have been homicidal thoughts about two incredibly teetering, squawking, all-over-the-sidewalk, useless girls to mere thoughts of a simple nudge that would topple them and make them shut up and let me get on with my trek to work. I don't know about you, but I'm proud of me.

Progress. Change.

daydreamin.....

2012-01-18T02:07:00.001-05:00

Yum. I'm a sucker for a tall, atheltic guy. And good legs, because you have to work for those. What a way to while away a little time in the afternoon, while drowning out the incessant shrieks and bellows of a bunch of dbags I couldn't care less about.

reminder

2012-01-17T01:12:00.000-05:00

I had a doctor appointment this morning where I got some great news, for once. Because this appointment was scheduled for 8:15am, I would be missing a little bit of the earliest hour of work. In fact, there was no reason why I wouldn't be in by 9 (I was in by 9), for the remaining 10 hours of my obnoxiously long day.

I sent out a note to this effect to six people. Yes, six people needed to know that I would be somewhere between fifteen and thirty minutes late for work. Six people whose lives would be irretrievably, negatively affected, if I did not tell all six as opposed to the two who actually needed to know. But dutifully, I notified the quorum of six on Friday, that I had a first-thing doctor appointment this morning.

As I woke up this morning and got ready to go, I thought to myself that it would be a nice thing to send out a reminder to the quorum to remind them, yet again, that I'd be in late this morning but just a skosh. I used my blackberry device to craft just such a message, then sat with the doctor receiving good news, for a change, which will prompt me to go purchase new running shoes after work today.

I strolled out of the doctor's office and out onto 57th street, excited that I know my body well enough to know when it's time to go and check things out and see what the next step is in my recovery to normal me. As I cruised up to my building, I noticed my blackberry flashing and that boss had replied to my reminder email. It was 8:50 when I did this.

"You should have sent me a this last night," it said. "I had something for you to do this morning at 8:30."

So much for personal responsibility and the gesture of sending a reminder. Good thing I'm "unflappable".

second

2012-01-11T00:40:00.002-05:00

Boss can do it all, even from Burma. Yes, Burma the country, that is 12 hours ahead of New York. She can't even stop for the sake of vacation.

Today's installment will cover the act of second guessing. Not me second guessing myself, mind you - though that is an unfortunate side effect - but Boss, second guessing every. single. thing. I. do. Literally, everything. Today, an item came through via email, which Boss is frenetically checking from Burma (no joke). Boss could not read the attachment and so forwarded said email and attachment to me, asking me to open and relay the information back via email. I complied. I noted the contents of the fax, which happened to be a redemption request - something I dealt with on a nearly daily basis at my old firm - and sent the details back via email, as requested. That should have been the end.

But who was the request from?

I pointed out that this was in the first email, and reiterated the name of the investor, the fund being redeemed and the amount of the redemption.

But no, who is actually redeeming?

Again, name of the investor, amount AND the name of the person who signed off on the request.

No, you're not understanding me, who is it FROM???

After getting the same correct answer four times from me, Boss was apparently launched into a tizzy and forwarded the email to a colleague, cc'ing me on the forward, asking yet again, as if to learn me a lesson on how incompetent I am. And guess what? The respondent said - verbatim - what I said. So what the fuck? Thanks for the fucking vote of confidence, Boss. Turns out I know what the fuck I'm talking about. And yeah, I know I was right. It wasn't a guess, so you don't need to try and placate me by letting me know that I was, in fact, correct.

The aforementioned motivation I spoke of in yesterday's entry? It's on blast now.

steps

2012-01-10T01:40:00.003-05:00

I am two syllable sore today. I'm sure this will be the first of many days in the near future where I say that, but it feels good because I'm of the mind that a nice, long bout of steady state is just the medicine tomorrow night.

I went to a skinny, old, uncrowded bar in my neighborhood tonight. I actually kind of love this bar for purposes of a small group, a soccer game, or playing cards with someone. It was pretty quiet when we arrived, but at one point a group of about six people came in, which filled the small space a lot more. They were animated, but not annoying and at one point, the bartender came over to say that the gentleman at the end of the bar had bought the place a round. I got up to thank this whiskey-giving soul and realized that he was a young guy - not some older gentleman in a fit of generosity - a young guy in maybe his early thirties. And he wasn't snotty. It's these little, random moments that kill me sometimes, where I realize how far I have to go to catch up to my potential and be in a position to do something of this nature, just because I feel like it and it's Monday. This time however, it was motivating.

We will ignore the fact that this story centers on being in a bar, drinking whiskey beverages on Monday.

Turns out I like who I am and the path I'm cutting. I like the goals I have in mind and I like how I am evolving as a human being. I just need to keep going, is all. It seems there are two ways to approach challenges. Well actually I'm sure there are a million, but I think they trend toward two groups. One can be overwhelmed by the challenge and either fold or slowly chip away under the burden, or get aggressive. It may make you sore and it may feel like a tougher road, but at the end of it, maybe you'll be able to buy an entire bar a round of drinks and be happy about it. Literally or metaphorically.

free gym advice!

2012-01-06T00:08:00.002-05:00

Yay for awake for no good reason! Maybe if I get all stoked about it, I'll start falling asleep at a reasonable hour. But as long as I'm up and a little punchy, I may as well throw out something funny. So here ya go.

This is stolen from the Wall Street Journal, but it is a pretty good summation of how to be successful at the gym. Sadly, this is the time of year when the gym is way crowded, because everyone in the tri-state area just realized how fat and sloth-like they have gotten (ahem...this year I am included in that crowd).

I find the article somewhat stimulating however, because it basically says over the course of 27 items - in a slightly nicer, tongue-in-cheek tone - that all of the gimmick and bullshit is.....gimmick and bullshit. Hm.

Consistency and commitment are the only way to be successful, kind of like with everything. Who'da thunk.

one thing

2012-01-05T16:04:00.002-05:00

I will never understand, is why it is necessary to kill a spider with a sledgehammer.

paddle paddle

2012-01-05T01:54:00.003-05:00

I cant sleep. Shocking.

This is what I wish I were doing right now. Sitting in an outrigger canoe, off the coast of California somewhere - though just about any coast will do - covered in saltwater and baking in the sun. Especially on a glassy, clear, early morning like in the photo.

New York, I fear I will soon be forced to say goodbye. I love you. O how I love you. But while you give me many things (like extra poundage, an empty wallet and a weakened liver), you can't give me time on the water and that, I fear, is your fatal flaw. I guess I could chalk it up to my seven year itch, since I can't seem to stay in one location much longer than that. We're up to 8 now, but I think we both know the time has come. The call of the water is strong and there are only so many loops to be done around the park, and treks next to the water, up the west side highway. I'll probably get all romantical and pine away for many things as I begin to offer up my slow goodbyes, but don't let that get you down. New York, you will always be in my heart, (and lungs and major organs), but the ocean beckons and begs me to dive in.

The ocean is unconfusing and calming.....there is nothing like the water. Nothing. Sorry New York, you and I both knew, but it's out there now.

void

2012-01-04T01:09:00.000-05:00

I feel compelled to write a bit, lately. It's kind of nice to have the urge, but I'm in that place where I can't pin any thought down long enough to actually extract something quantifiable. Ever have that? I will have a thousand idears and then when I try to elaborate on one of them, my brain gets agitated and moves on to the next.

For example, I was going to write something just now about going out drinking with coworkers. Yeah, funny story, but I can't seem to flesh it out at the moment, so that one will have to wait. I made a deal with a friend of mine that for the month of January, I would sit in meditative silence for at least fifteen minutes per day and I'm thinking maybe that will quiet the maelstrom of thoughts and give me a chance to focus a little better.

Perhaps I will try meditating at work tomorrow. Maybe fall into some Office Space-like trance and suddenly not give a shit about anything. Until then however, this post is about, well nothing.

lobstah

2011-12-30T01:34:00.005-05:00

No, not the unbelievable dinner I had with friends last week, but damn was that the tastiest meal I have had in a long time.

I feel like a lobster right now, or rather my version of a lobster, since I have no idea of the thought process of an actual lobster. Hopefully it's simpler than mine. Anyway. One of the ways you know you are getting a good lobster, is when you get them with their shells really hard. That means they are at the peak of their growth and that shell is about to be shed and a new, softer one grown. I imagine it must be uncomfortable for a lobster to be literally bursting at the seams and so eager to shed that shell and start the next chapter. As I feel like a lobster with a hard shell at the moment, it is decidedly uncomfortable for me, because I, too, feel like I'm bursting at the seams in more ways than one.

My brain is overworked lately and I am kind of excited to engage in some darwinian drinking, where hopefully all of the over-thinking, really tough brain cells will die in that evolutionary experiment. Perhaps the slow leak will increase its flow, that way.

I know I'm not going to write tomorrow, unless I have some sort of sappy iPhone charged moment, so here's to letting go of the year, knowing I am on the upswing, letting go of the apprehension and fear and distrust of the last four years, and to appreciating the people I am so fortunate to have in my life.

So fuck 2011, it's over. Ready to start year two in the decade of this girl.

the last spear

2011-12-28T02:53:00.001-05:00

I have friends coming in from California today. They have never been to New York and they will be here for four whole days. I feel grossly unprepared in what I wanted to have done with the house, but they won't care and may even help me with my project, because they are just that awesome.

This New Years, I will have an important part of my west coast contingent and several of my closest friends on the east coast together at the same time, in the same place and what it is already doing for me is unbelievable. The battle wages on with training and pushing forward and I continue to fight it. I am feeling optimistic about things, mostly, and it's really nice to be having more sunny days than cloudy ones, again. I have decided that I'm taking January off to recharge and prepare for the next steps, which are quite important. I have had an amazing year, all told, and going into the next one in such a good frame of mind and with this group of friends is a gift from the universe. Kind of like the cavalry is here.

The beauty about this all however, is that there is no last spear in this battle, because it is part of an evolution and evolution never stops.

Well that was personal.

o man......

2011-12-22T01:52:00.002-05:00

Yeah, so this happened. Yet another installment highlighting the rationale behind my 'no relationships' thing. It doesn't get much funnier than this. Such a great guy, such an obtuse request.

And without further ado......

Dude: We were supposed to be doing a dinner at my friend Jenny's house, but everyone bailed except for me, want to maybe do something for Christmas, or is that too much too early?

Me: the Jenny you hook up with?

Dude: we haven't hooked up in years

Dude: but yes, that one

Me: you like to keep em close, don't you

Dude: when you have mutual friends, it's hard not to...haha

Me: insurance policy

Dude: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Me: you realize she may have worked it out that it was just the two of you?

Dude: no, I didn't think that at all

Dude: maybe I should bail

Dude: LOL

Me: wait, so you were asking me to join you for dinner at the house of some chick you used to fuck. just the three of us? You're on your own there, buddy, sorry

Dude: silly girl, people were coming after dinner for drinks

Me: yeah, i'm gonna go with no on that one, haha

Dude: you suck

Dude: i don't want to go alone, haha

Me: no, i really don't.

Me: i'm not putting myself in that position no way. for future reference, the answer to a question like that will always be no, haha

Dude: bite me

Me: and you wonder why i don't want a relationship with anyone. hahahahahahaha...o man.

Me: best question ever.

Dude: bite me

Me: you do see how ridiculous that is, right?

Dude: nope

Me: seriously?

Dude: seriously

Me: wow. hm. well i don't know what to tell you then, but purposely putting me in an awkward situation is pretty ridiculous.

Me: maybe think about a role reversal? I dunno.

Not much I can add to that one. Still laughing, though.

quotish

2011-12-20T11:20:00.002-05:00

I may have put this up at some point in the last few years, but who cares. This quote bears repeating and is one of my favorites:

"If you treat a man how he is, he will remain how he is. If you treat a man how he could be, he will be come what he ought to be and should be."

Heard that at a young age, and it's one of those that stuck with me. I translate it to: being nice to people and treating them well bears returns not just in the fact that your relationship with that person (whether male, female, friend or lover) improves and is stable and happy, but in that the person's opinion of him or herself improves and they treat everyone in their lives better. If someone has ever done that for you (and someone has for me), then it's good practice to pay it forward, as your life has benefited.

People in my life and one in particular, are being very nice to me right now. I appreciate it and it makes me feel good. I'm [trying to be] nice back. Even to boss.

wochenende

2011-12-19T01:47:00.003-05:00

I have a persistent cough that I've had for about the last three weeks. It sounds like a Volkswagen is going to come out of my lungs at any moment. I could be doing more to heal it up, but I'm sort of going with the flow of what's going on right now, which means I spend several nights a week out, at the moment, most of them with a cocktail or five in hand.

This weekend I went to see this band called Deadbeat Darling, twice. Great shows, both times. At the first show - which was at a small, dark venue on the LES, I texted my best friend from high school because the ninetys-ish sound they have going reminded me of when we used to chase bands around all weekend, every weekend, in my 1968 bug. I got nostalgic. I miss hanging out with bands - and being in one. I miss live music and I get all stoked when I have the chance to do something I used to do regularly and really love - especially when there is a personal connection to the band, via the person who introduced them to me.

On the way home last night, after many delicious and expensive drinks involving various iterations of whiskey, I found a phone in the cab I was in. I grabbed it, because it was a really nice droid phone and that would suck for someone to lose it. I waited. Predictably, it blew up with someone calling repeatedly at 1:30am, while I was washing my face. When I finally got to it, I thought the girl was going to burst into tears. I had pegged it for a guy's phone, because the bottom was cracked and it had no cover, and girls are usually more careful with their things. She's meeting me at 10:30 tomorrow morning, to pick it up. This was my good deed for the weekend.

Sickly

2011-12-15T01:06:00.002-05:00

I wonder if i can write an entire post from my phone and spell everything correctly, without editing. We'll see. This is the kind of wild and crazy antic I'm driven to when I'm sick due to elephantitis of the sinuses, my roommates refuse to shut the fuck up (or make any quiet or subdued movements at all), and i cant sleep because I'm coughing too much.

Oh and i'm lit up like a roman candle because I have had to field questions about my cocksucker ex, who I'd just as soon forget....that is once i actually recover from the immense financial loss and can afford four walls again. Maybe the upwelling of anger and hatred is what made me sick. I should look into that and not let either that douchebag or my shitty job adversely affect my health anymore. Things to think about, cough cough, hack hack. Bitter isnt a shade i don often, and now i know why. What a waste of a night where i could be out with someone nice.

In other news, it is truly fascinating how much your heartrate goes up while doing the simplest of activities, when you're sick. Like 20 beats higher than normal, just to walk at a semi-brisk pace. Amazing how the body works. Maybe i should have a hot toddy and see how that goes. At the very least it may make me pass out....

renothingships

2011-12-13T02:33:00.000-05:00

I laughed SO hard when I read this. Partly because it's just empirically funny, and partly because I have recently experienced such a thing after a one-dater refused - or refuses, to get my extremely direct message (I didn't completely ignore him, I told him I wasn't interested about fifty times - literally and THEN I ignored him.)

I did consider publishing some of our correspondence, such as:

Me: "I've completely lost interest and have moved on, please leave me alone."

Him: "Wanna go to Miami and you can think about it?"

I truly don't understand it all; the boys sending such blatant and obvious signs of disinterest, followed by near stalking when I say 'Okay, bye.' It's really too confusing and too annoying for me to invest in, and I've arrived at a conclusion for how I will be proceeding henceforth, that I'm quite happy with.

See, when I was training, I did not have the emotional capacity to commit to another person and get all boyfriend. The couple of exceptions to that were guys that had exactly my same schedule, and were in the same places I was, most of the time. That was just easy pickins. But anyone outside of that, would fall into a different category, similar to the friends with benefits section. These were people I truly enjoyed spending time with, but who were in a similar position to me, or who didn't want to be fully invested, and so it worked out quite well for many years. When I retired, I made the fatal error of deciding to become a 'relationship girl'. I gave it two solid tries. One was just not meant to be and the other was an epic, epic, seismic fail. I believe I have now evened out and found what I feel is the best course of action going forward.

No more relationships. No marriage, no kids, no talk of it. Instead, I'm back to the way it all ran in my twenties. Fun only. No titles, no emotional investment. This only sounds sad to someone who is all about the pain and bullshit of relationships. People do the most fucked up things in relationships. Things they would never do to their friends or family - only to those suckers who are dumb enough to get into bed with them and think it means something. When you find a taker for the ideal arrangement, however, it's quite fun. And the bonus......no one gets hurt.

I've been told I'm 'guarded', and maybe I am, but I'm not holding anything back. I'm still my same self with the jokes and the fun times and the affection. Just no emotional investment. Fun for fun's sake and fun only. Once it becomes un-fun or gets complicated, I'm outta there. If only I had just stuck to this instead of wasting the last 5 years trying to be something I'm not. C'est la vie, but let the fun begin!

wake up

2011-12-12T01:01:00.002-05:00

I posed this question on facebook, which of course is the litmus test for all things being "real".

"Why can I wake up at 6am for an annoying dental visit (yes my dentist operates on hours that I can actually make), yet I can't wake up at 6am for a workout, which is awesome?"

No one chimed in. Probably because that was a rhetorical question and also probably because it is a stupid question. Part of me thinks that years of 4:30am wakeups did me in and I used up all of my capacity for that. I know that's bullshit, so the rest of me thinks it's because there is no outside pressure to do so. Plus I'm an insomniac who can't fall asleep or stay asleep.

See, I have been struggling with the whole "real athlete" thing. I trained like a motherfucker for so long and did workouts that only a sliver of people in the world would want to do for such an extended period of time, that the whole go-to-the-gym-and-take-a-class thing just seems like a cop-out to me. This is stupid. As I would tell any normal person, just getting your ass there and doing anything at all, puts you in a far better position to succeed and step it up in short order.

Where I stand now, yoga makes me sore. Granted this is no slouch's yoga, but really? I mean, really? Sore abs from yoga is an embarrassment to someone who routinely had a coach (albeit a very small coach) literally stand on her stomach during leg raises. The state of affairs is ridiculous and if I want to start racing again when I move, and I desperately do, I need to get back up with real lifting and quantifiable progress in my bigger muscle groups. Yes, I need to go back in with the boys and start squatting and deadlifting and carrying a 45lb weight through my ab circuits. At present, if I held a 45lb over my head while I did crunches, I'd come away with a broken nose and a fractured skull, after I dropped it on my face.

Progress - albeit slow progress - has been made, but I'm at the point now where I have 19 days left in the year to show myself that I can maintain some level of consistency and to not have one of those December 31st self-flogging fests, where I bitch and moan about letting myself down yet again. I did run a marathon this year, so regardless, it won't be a total loss, but I need to put some serious thought and effort into that 6am question.

After all, that's a good ninety minutes after the hour that I used to bounce (or slither) out of bed to go row in sleet, snow, rain, and cold. Bullshit.

smackers

2011-12-06T01:57:00.004-05:00

Okay actually they are called Spanx, but I thought that would be a sucky title.

If you don't know - but seriously, who doesn't - girls do this strange binding ritual before they go out, when they are feeling less than spectacular about their shape, or are going to be photographed by the papparazzi. They squeeze ten pounds of sausage into five pound, stretchy, constricting casings called spanx. Spanx are basically modern girdles and while they do add a nice sleekness to just about any shape, the restriction that comes along with these bad boys is, well pretty restrictive.

Being a bit portly at the moment, I thought perhaps I should purchase a pair, in order to squeeze myself into shit I have no business wearing, so my odds of attracting a suitor would increase. I don't know what the hell got into me that this thought came across the scroll, but I found a pair that would (theoretically) "fit", and this morning, I attempted to pour myself into them. The logistics involved in this were significant. I think to put them on properly, one needs a team of professionals, a pair of rubber gloves, some advil and a shoe horn.

Once in them, movement is not so bad, generally speaking, however I do think they should include a catheter in the package, because should I have to use the ladies room, they will have to come down and then the quandary of how long it will take to summon the team, the rubber gloves and the pain meds versus just unpeeling the whole charade and letting the true level of rotund-ness shine through, is not worth it. I pretty much always err on the side of comfort, so I think I can say with some certainty, that this particular beauty garment will be leaving my arsenal.

The only thing I can think that would provide adequate explanation for the frequent wearing of this fabric boa constrictor, is that the girls who wear these things are like the floor model in the store. They are to be viewed only, not tested very rigorously and the dressing should never be altered, lest it mess up the aesthetic. I don't think those girls get laid. Just sayin. I mean what guy would be so patient as to wait while de-constriction is underway?

jack

2011-12-05T01:22:00.001-05:00

Been in a Jack Johnson mood lately. The musician, not the boxer.

I think I'm on a seven year sort of cycle. Seven years ago, I really needed for things to speed up in a real way, on multiple fronts. Seven years later, they have reached a frothy pace and I now need them to slow down in a real way, on multiple fronts.

Turns out things pick up on the holidays, whether you want them to or not. Something I love about New York is that while most places slow down and people hunker and stay in during the winter months, New York is bustling. People actually go out more. And drink more. I think this may have to do with the fact that you can't spend your energy outside in the park or along the river or cruising around during the daylight hours, so people save it up and then go out all night, where the primary activity is drinking. An example may be going out to Long Island for what you think is going to be a relatively mellow night in with friends and pie and beirut, and having start out that way, but finishing up at sunrise after a quick zip back to the city, a bar, a lot of gin and then breakfast. Followed by a couple hours of sleep and a sluggish and questionably productive day, it sort of costs even more. Not that I have any complaints about how any of that went.

There are only twenty six days left in this year and apple cider with Jack Daniels rye whiskey is actually really good. And very potent.....in keeping with the Jack theme.

The significance of all of this means jack shit.

da keedz

2011-12-01T00:01:00.000-05:00

This kid nearly brought me to tears with his passionate and extremely well-articulated message. I had to put it up for general consumption.

We really ought to just move past this issue, as I really can't see how it is even controversial.

i dun spelt it gud

2011-11-30T01:38:00.002-05:00

The below conversation (presented for your amusement and to prove a point) was had between me and a dude I apparently knew, but don't really remember, from high school. These are full and separate emails, mind you and I have not changed anything (ie: punctuation, numbers, letters, etc).

dude: long time so what u been up 2?

me: I've just been working and drinking! How about you? How have you been?

dude: same here! not enough hrs~ 2 do both! lol

me: Ha....well that's where you've got a problem, then! NY runs on booze, not dunkin donuts, as previously thought.

dude: can i tell u a secret?

me: sure....

dude: u r EEEEEEVIL!!!! lol but TRUE!

me: It's a secret that I'm evil? I totally thought the jig was up on that a long time ago, haha. How do you like Louisiana?

dude: it slow which i mean peaceful! no drive bys; no gangs ; miss the beach though. if u love outdoors come down south! every1 says hi! straners helping strangers!!! ca & ny 2 busy 4 that!

dude: u should come down 4 mari gras! listen 2 this they got daquri shacks here! i lived in 7 states louisiana is only state that has drive through daquri shacks!

me: Drive through frozen alcoholic beverages? Now if that's not intelligent, I don't know what is, haha. So I guess the cops hang out about a mile or two down the road?

dude: as long as the straw isnt in the lid, its concidered a closed container! there in between a strong icy~ 2 a drink w/ 8 shots of liquer! damn there gr8! lol

I'll stop there because it's hurting my eyes to re-read these. He didn't even spell liquor right. Sin of all sins!

I shared some of this with a coworker and to my comfort, she completely agreed with my snobbiness when it comes to proper diction and semi-intelligible writing. I'm going on record to say....if you don't reflect intellectual curiosity or intelligence in your speaking and writing and if you cannot write a complete sentence with the words spelled properly, I will feel really bad for you and will never go out with you. Now mind you, this dude isn't necessarily trying to go out with me - despite the repeated invitations to attend mardi gras and hit up the drive-thru daquiri shack - however, I'm literally in pain in this conversation.

I know, I'm a pompous ass who should take my pompous assholery and hit the bricks already. It is important to note however, that I'm not saying that this dude is a bad person. I'm not saying he deserves a cockroach infestation in his house or that he can't press a suit. I am saying none of those things. What I AM saying, is that people - and not just dude, because this is an epidemic - really ought to make a greater effort to learn to communicate properly in their native tongue. The days of it being cool to be stupid are o.ver.

The occasional typo, misused word, I can forgive. The blatant onslaught of shitty written and verbal skills is assaulting to my senses and is something I can't go back for seconds on. And I'm not alone. So dudes (and chicks), can we all agree to make a more concerted effort? Can we please, please, for fucks sake embrace the beauty that is good grammar? Can we marvel together at the grace and potency of the well-written word?

Or can we please just not communicate with one another? Please?

Yes, you can direct your hate mail to me. It's cool.

el shake

2011-11-29T00:31:00.003-05:00

There's a juice and fruit cart on the corner of 56th and Broadway that I patronize everyday on my way to work. I go so often, that when they see me coming, the people who staff the cart start my order, so it's usually just about ready when I get to it and pay. I get a scary looking, yet delicious shake made of a lot of green stuff, masked by fruit and with added protein. It's like crack, it's so good, so I call it the crack-shake. Clever, I know.

So there I was the other day - the cold day - running dreadfully late for work. I mean, I could have still made it on time, but then I forgot something and had to go back upstairs, so I had literally no cushion. I thought of not stopping at the cart, but no, no, I needed that crack-shake. As per usual, I peeled around the corner and threw a five at the cart guy, swooped up my shake and kept on toward my office. Then I got to the corner, where two dudes in City Sights gear were having a conversation of some sort.

They kept shuffling, these City Sights gents. I tried to get out of their way, as we waited for the light to change and stepped into the street. Because they were the weaving type, I swung out wide to the right, with ample clearance, and started across the street. That is until one of the dudes began swinging his arms wildly.

I'm not exaggerating here. The flailing was a fully extended, oblivious-to-the-world sort of antic and the tip of his fingers, reaching maximum velocity in their animated motion, caught my cup juuuuust as I was about to take a swig. Did I mention that it was really cold that day, and that I was carrying-slash-drinking a frozen beverage?

Flash forward approximately one second and I was wearing the entire thing, from head to toe. And I was late.

The wildman made a feeble attempt to apologize and took my 2"x 2" napkin in an effort to dab away at the twenty ounces of frozen, blended deliciousness that now adorned my shirt, pants, jacket, hair, hands and even - yes - even my bra. Every step I took between that corner and my office saw splotches of tasty crack-shake glob off and fall to the ground. I left a trail from Carnegie hall to my building. A trail of unrequited deliciousness.

The kicker here is not that I was already late, wearing a shade of frozen green that I wouldn't normally don, no longer had my breakfast AND was cold. The kicker is that when I got to work.........

I got in trouble.

Because it was my fault that the friggin bus-seller dude doused me, or better yet, I clearly did it myself in order to procure a larger dry cleaning bill and have organic fruits and vegetables gracing my lovely, matted mane for the next ten hours. Yes, in the gilded cage that is my fund, it makes sense to be angry with people when random, annoying shit happens to them. Athankyou.

straws

2011-11-28T13:29:00.003-05:00

It is approximately sixty days until bonus time. I pray and pray that I can hold out until then and not tell several people in my office to 'va-tu faire en culee'.

See, I didn't get a bonus last year because I left my good job earlier than I wanted to, something that has greatly affected me this year. Were I to not receive a bonus this year, I would straight up be homeless in no time. That's not a joke, either. That's for real. So every single day that ticks by in this place, where I get bitched out for nothing and everything just because someone or other woke up with a bite on her ass, is a victory.

Can I count to sixty?

holi-suckiness

2011-11-23T00:22:00.002-05:00

Guess what, friends?! It's time for the annual curmudgeon-fest that is the stupid holiday season. Yes, I still hate them, still wish them all away and am really only in it for the booze.

If there were a way to be magically transported from the day before thanksgiving to the day after christmas without having to endure any of it, I would sign up in a heartbeat. I'm going to try, though, to make this my last post to that effect, for the 2011 season, because this year is not over and there is still a lot of work to do in order for me to wrap it up the way I want. So tomorrow, I will be at a close friend's house, chilling with people I enjoy spending time with and eating and drinking to great excess.

But on Friday....Friday I will do some long, relaxing steady state to get myself ready for a very full weekend of training, studying and partying. I plan to carry that agenda out through the end of the year and I feel I can say with confidence, that although the beginning of the year proved to be a somewhat slow start, the last half of the year has been picking up at a good clip. This means 2012 has tons more potential from the get. Clearly I should try and stay in the positive through this trying time, then.

I still hate christmas music and no, I don't want to watch it's a fucking wonderful life.

the 9%

2011-11-22T02:08:00.002-05:00

The IRS is more popular than congress. Having a relative who works for the IRS (no, sadly there is no frill to that), I found that especially funny, because I love to tease my uncle about working for the grim collector.

However, after yesterday's stalemate of complete bullshit with this tea party driven congress of jokers and do-nothing-ers, I'm glad to see that the public is beginning to have some perspective on the relative evils in some of our government institutions, if nothing else.

You know what I say? Fine. Do nothing, jackasses. By doing nothing, the Bush tax cuts get repealed and taxes go back to those of the Clinton years when everything was going pretty well. Then - while you bitch about that and the gross injustice of your own ineptitude - maybe the rest of us could take a page from the WPA era and give some people jobs repairing our infrastructure, or something crazy like that. In wasting all this time trying to make the president look bad, they are going to accidentally repeal the tax protection for the most wealthy and get themselves all voted out. Here's hoping!

Carry on, morons, carry on.

yet another reason....

2011-11-18T19:36:00.002-05:00

why I just heart Michelle Bachmann. She's too stupid to know when she's fucking up dates, facts and general sensical sorts of things and instead of, say, reading the news, or acknowledging that she just makes shit up. Instead, she will offer herself up as gaffe-free, while criticizing her fellow running mates. Awesome.

http://gawker.com/5860850/bachmann-i-havent-had-a-gaffe

I will be so sad when the clown show portion of the republican spectacle is over. No more ubeki-beki-beki-stan references, no more curing gays talk on the national podium, no more errrrs and uuuhhhhs and 'ah fergawt's and blank stares. What a sad day that will be. Then it will just be ol' Mittens and his waffling.

Syrup up!

true dat

2011-11-18T00:24:00.003-05:00

I have long believed this, and now there is a clever sign out, saying it nicely.

My belief in this was cemented over the last several years and I think it's a good reminder to have around. This is true for us all, so others who make endless excuses TO us, should have their feet held to the fire - or be let go from our lives, as well.

This has been me reporting for a Bullshit Free Society. Join me.

breakdown

2011-11-17T01:41:00.002-05:00

I always find it curious and funny (but not necessarily ha-ha funny) when the republican middle class volunteers to eliminate itself through our tax laws.

The conditions may be better in the streets, but economically, we, the United States, have the same breakdown as India. And look how well that's working.

Idiots.

muted

2011-11-16T08:45:00.002-05:00

I've had no voice for several days now. Actually, I have a whisper of a voice right now, but for three days, I had none at all. Couldn't scream if I were being bludgeoned with a tire iron. I had a dream to that effect, where I had to save a good friend from a scary, knife-wielding dude - without screaming. In the dream, I had some sort of premonition that he was the stab-to-death type, so I hid all the knives, threw all her stuff off the balcony and pushed her out the door and down to the car, as we heard him thrashing around looking to kill us. Can't be louder? Be craftier, I guess.

Anyway, the loss of my primary vehicle for communicating showed me a couple of things as I sat at home, whiling away the time on my tempurpedic, trying to come up with shit to do. One: daytime television is extremely boring once you run out of NCIS reruns and dvr'd documentaries to watch. Two: it is extremely frustrating to try and get even one keyword out and still have that word misunderstood, and Three: I talk to my bff a lot and probably saved a ton of cell minutes over the last few days.

The most important side effect though, was an understanding of what my dad must be going through. My dad has a degenerative condition that is basically shutting down systems in his body ever so slowly, one by one. His voice was one of the first things to go. Talking to him is an exercise in frustration, because you end up saying 'what? what?' the whole time, and he gets pissed off and just stops talking. Having no ability to speak all of a sudden - for good - must have been completely horrifying for him. He said now it's like the driveway doesn't go all the way to the street. He has all of these thoughts, but can't relay them, because without getting cortisone shots in his vocal chords - a pain I cannot imagine - his voice will continue to deteriorate until he can barely whisper. Add to that the fact that his motor skills have been taken away and he's basically becoming a prisoner in his own body. My little bout with laryngitis is nothing, comparatively. I was bored for a couple of days and nearly hacked up a lung. Big deal.

I am trying to keep that in mind today as I get the cold shoulder from my boss and some of my coworkers. It's all about face time in this joint. Of course, it's totally my fault that after the marathon my boss got sick and passed it along to me. Totally my fault that my immune system was down a little and needed a re-boot. My bad that two boxes of lemon ginger tea and enough soup to take a bath in, didn't bring it back. Today, after two days of literally not speaking at all, to anyone, my voice is strained, at best. It's audible, people. The problem is audible, as in there is proof every time I say a word that this isn't a clever ruse to get out of work and enjoy the rainy weather.

These people suck. Study, study, study, I say. Looking forward to that move more and more everyday, now.

race report

2011-11-08T00:55:00.000-05:00

It's been a long time since I had a 'first' in sports. I have now completed the ING New York City Marathon - my first marathon - and it was a completely different experience than I had anticipated. I always make up a race report after I finish a race of any kind (because I’m a nerd like that), so that I can look back over how it went and make adjustments for the next competition. This should be no different, I think, because this will definitely not be my last marathon.

I got nervous on Thursday and Friday of last week, because the time was nigh and I wasn't sure that my knees and right foot were going to get me across the line. After my 20 mile run, my training took a turn for the worse as I developed plantar fasciitis in my right foot, which just annoyed the hell out of me. I took care of it the best I could and it started to subside a little, but that meant that I had to do a lot of my volume the last few weeks on the bike or the eliptical, which while good for my lungs, was not good for my muscles and joints. The deal was getting done though, so I just shoved it out of the way and hoped for the best.

By Saturday afternoon I was on race auto-pilot and on Sunday as we got up to the start line, I was just itching to get going. I had forgotten my watch in the bag I was sending to the finish line and I started freaking out about not being able to take splits, until I came to a very important realization. I am in a completely different position athletically, than I have ever been in my life. Add to that, I was taking on a completely different endurance challenge than I had faced before. Literally, as we walked through the corral, I came to the conclusion that the only way for this first one to be a success would be to just have fun with it and take in the entire experience. I knew the pain was coming and I knew that this would in no way be my best, or only, marathon effort. Once I took that attitude, my outlook went from clinical to emotional and I started singing Sinatra with thousands of people, high-fiving little kids, congratulating fellow runners and making it a point to notice the signs and supporters along the way. My two favorite signs elicited completely different emotions. The first one said "pick up the pace, your ex is gaining ground", which I thought was pretty funny, and the second said "you are no longer a runner, you are now a marathoner", which got me a little choked up for a second there. One cannot be choked up and run successfully however, so that was the end of the choked-upedness.

The start was quite slow because a lot of the Livestrong entries were in the last wave, but it was a little ego boost to be blowing past people at the beginning, which is always nice. I took note of my basic splits at different points during the race but all in all, except for a brief stop when something was stabbing me in the instep, I cruised along the first 20 miles pretty well and I only stopped to take my gu and water every hour or so. Then I hit mile 21. And by hit I mean smashed into like a glass bottle dropped from a 10 story building. I had been feeling my knees, but was tuning it out because running was easier than walking, but at about mile 21, my knees began to protest loudly and the plantar fasciitis in my foot was fully awake as well. This, in retrospect was my favorite part of the race. Those last 5 miles were a fight.

It has been a long time since I had to truly fight and conquer in a sport. I have been unable to perform at all for so long, that it had slipped in my memory what it is like to really scrape and claw to finish something at any cost. Sounds a little dramatic, I'm sure, but despite the fact that my run to walk ratio had become inverted as I winced through most of those steps, I went inside and discovered that the reserve tank is still there and I can still tap it and still push through anything. I rediscovered that I am still pretty fucking strong (pardon the french). So, I battled all the way through the park and back out onto 59th street. When I got to the 800 meter mark, I had something I could quantify in rowing and pain terms, so the last 800 meters was pretty easy when I considered how many times I have felt like I was going to die with 800 meters to go and yet survived to win.

The whole ending on a hill thing is just the meanest possible way to finish a marathon, but I was in such a daze when I crossed the finish line, that I realized I was still running, but everyone around me was walking, so I should probably stop. I thought beforehand that when I finished I would get all emotional and be somewhat overcome, but really I just kept walking forward for about 40 minutes while I got the medal, the heat wrap, the bag of food and finally my bag with my sweats and personal items.

Reflecting on this whole process has made me thankful that I did my first marathon this way, when it means something substantial to me. Having been out of commission completely for four years and having had such a small window to train and get ready for this has made a difference in me. Before I had all of the physical tribulations with surgeries and recovery, doing a marathon was just something I had on my list for whenever. It wasn't a particularly big deal to me, because I knew without a doubt that I could do it and do a pretty good job. Running it now, in New York, after being counted out was an experience I shall not soon forget and I can actually say that I'm proud of myself for getting back in the game and for doing it by jumping in headfirst and then figuring it out.

To all of you who supported Livestrong on my behalf, I truly cannot thank you enough for the support. Many of those who donated have a loved one who has battled some form of cancer. Some have lost, some have won, some continue the fight. The money donated will go directly to help people engaged in their war on cancer. I looked at every name noted on the scroll on my page and I thought of them all at different times in the race, as I imagined the love and support they received during their respective fights. The analogy of a cancer battle being akin to a marathon is not lost on me. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for putting your money where my mouth is, because the pressure generated by the support pushed me every single step of the way.

mantra-ish

2011-11-02T23:27:00.000-04:00

I'm of two minds right now. One is nervous as hell, overplanning, listing off the reasons behind the compulsion to keep going, and positive, but reserved.

The other is excited and focused, understanding of the limitations, but eager to claw the next three days away and get to the challenge; the launch pad to back.

I'm going with the latter, obviously, and while I was in the shower after my workout tonight, I remembered the slogan on the back of my favorite fall rowing shirt from college:

seek
find
catch
use
abuse
crush

YOU.

The future is a blank slate, so I'm starting here. Stoked.

struggle

2011-10-31T14:06:00.004-04:00

Life gives you strange signs to keep pushing forward, keep moving toward your goals. They usually come for me at moments when I'm not looking, but could really use an extra nudge from the universe to remind me to not lose sight of my goals.

Funny thing is, when I was in college, I was running the stadiums and a local newspaperman happened to be in the stadium just taking photos of the empty seats. I interrupted his shot and ended up on the front page of that paper in a photo just like this. Makes me stoked to get to my next run. Knee insurrection or not, the challenge will be met.

door jam

2011-10-28T13:13:00.004-04:00

I smacked a couple of people around today. With a door.

I don't feel badly about this at all and here's why. Tourists, especially those that loiter around various parts of Midtown are mentally vacant. They stand wherever, whenever and just sort of gape their mouths and block whatever is going on; foot traffic, doors, actual traffic....it's annoying, as has been previously discussed at length.

I understand this about the tourists, and don't really blame them too much for being mentally checked out; it is, after all, vacation for them. What I don't understand and had a problem with today, is the ignoring of many attempts to get their attention to move out of the way.

So there I was, standing inside an establishment, trying to get out through the only doorway, with three people blocking my exit. The door opened out toward the street, so I didn't have a lot of options, other than to somehow make them aware of my presence and desire to leave through said doorway. Despite standing pretty much against the door, I was unacknowledged. I waved, I waved some more, I knocked on the door. Nothing. Not even a head tilt in my direction, despite the fact that one of the three was practically looking right at me. My hands were clearly tied.

I started to open the door gently at first, attempting to brush them back so I could get out. Nothing. These bumps on a log were really just going to stand there as if I didn't exist and wiat for me to fly out the ceiling. Finally, I slammed the door open, causing two of the bumps to fly into the third. And how they flew - arms flailing out, tripping over their feet, catching one another in a mangled, bent-over heap.

I heard huffs and gasps and was shot the dirtiest looks they could all have mustered, given their catatonic states before. I turned, I smiled brightly and said "move, please." They're lucky.....I'm one of the patient ones.

pulling out

2011-10-25T01:35:00.009-04:00

Yes, that kind is good, too.

Pulling troops out of Iraq has received quite a bit of criticism from the GOP, which I think is really funny. Let's examine, shall we?

So when we (stupidly) went INto Iraq, 'ol dubya made some deals and some promises. We had no business being there and the entire bajillion dollar war was entered into under false pretenses. But we went and then we were pretty much stuck there as the Bush family and their hangers on went about making the world a far more dangerous place - at least for Americans. However, there we were and since we were there and not leaving, we had to set up something that had a hope of sustaining itself and aligning to our interests. So the Iraqi's established a government and held elections and it was negotiated that we would get the fuck out at a certain point in time (*hint* - that's right about now).

Then Obama came to office and was elected, in part, because he promised to responsibly scale back our presence in Iraq and ultimately remove all troops altogether and let the Iraqi people get on with governing themselves and figuring it out. You have to take the training wheels off at some point.

Flash forward to now. I realize it is an election season, but this fight is just stoooopid. Seriously. We are on Bush's timetable - which is a republican timetable - but now those grumps don't want it, because it's not their guy making the drawdown. Regardless, it's time to go. The Iraqi's won't give US service members immunity from prosecution under their laws. If that's not dangerous, I don't know what is. Iraqis have also expressed - usually violently - that they don't want us there. They want us to get out.

M'kay. So they want us to get out and will not hesitate to prosecute us (we, who are supposed to be helping them) under their far, far more conservative and punitive laws. I'd say that's a pretty transparent case for leaving where you are not wanted. When the despot is gone and the whole "liberation" thing has worn off, what you are left with is an occupation, and no one wants to be occupied.

My favorite part of this is watching the Republican candidates and commentators say things like "they want us to leave, so we should stay and not back down". Uh....whut? So let me get this straight.....the people we liberated want us to leave now, so we should NOT leave, because that would be backing down. In their country. Which we are rolling through with tanks and guns, while getting shot at. Of course! That makes perfect sense. Stay where you are not wanted to show them. If that's not petulant and weird, I don't know what is.

You know what we could maybe do with that money and those returning war veterans, who have done so much for their country, in a completely pointless war? Hey, we could pour all of that money into manufacturing and emerging industries and give those people and a buncha others jobs! Yeah, you know, like maybe use our money on our own soil to better OUR people, who need OUR resources. Just a thought.

...your cause

2011-10-21T00:55:00.005-04:00

This is probably going to come off sounding ungrateful, but I don't care, because:

a) it's the truth, and I tell it whether it makes me popular or not and
b) it's ridiculous in a totally fucked up, kind of funny way.

There are three people I wish had not donated to the NY marathon on my behalf. I know, it's kind of messed up to be wishing people had not donated to a very worthy charity. I'm not saying they shouldn't have donated at all, I just wish it wasn't associated with me, because I had to devote thought to the two of those three, who I have made a concerted effort to forget.

Of the three, two are related and one of the relatives is not a part of the "I'd like to forget knowing you" scenario. Caught up now? Because I'm totally and completely perplexed as to why they bothered to donate at all. The one, we'll call him DA, did it for purely selfish reasons, which is kind of funny. A little ego-masturbation session for him so he can say "see? see?" No. We don't see....or actually we do, just we see the truth and not what you want us to see. The deeper the layers go with DA, the more I uncover bits of truth behind so, so very much deception and shadiness. DA is no longer regarded as a 'good guy', nor should he be by me, anyway. I'm sure there are still suckers out there, though, and given his new-found success, I'm sure he'll come by one in short order and he'll two-second his way through that as well.

The other, we'll call her DAS, left me completely befuddled. Seriously. Totally confused, especially considering the response when I thanked her. The best line EVER though was "I support your cause and best of luck," a line which followed some attempt at chastising me. I laughed out loud, at my desk, in a quiet office when I read that. The unspoken "but not you" may as well have been highlighted in bold letters. That is the most subtly bitchy thing I have seen in a while and I actually found it quite stoic and artful in the simplicity of the delivery. But it begs the question, why the fuck did you send something in, then?

Actually, given what I know of DA and his family, this sort of thing probably shouldn't confuse me. They don't actually ever say anything nice, or loving, or supportive to the people they purport to love (something both personally demonstrated and anectodally relayed to me over a long period of time), so why start now with the pariah? No, seriously, why? So that the inevitable opportunity to criticize could be seized?

I'll take the money and run, literally. What I have gained in the last few years is the awareness that in certain situations - which are far fewer and further between for me than for some - I'm perfectly justified in being selfish. This is one of those cases. I'm also perfectly justified in not changing my mind over a measly hundred bucks which masqueraded as charitable, but was really a self-serving gesture. No, I will have a little chuckle to myself and give credit to DA for knowing I don't give a fuck what he thinks about anything in the world. Credit to him for not trying to douchefully get in touch. Next time though, keep your money. You and that other lady (the one not introduced into this story) can - still - go fuck yourselves.

The prologue to this is, after the perplexion - if that's even a word - I ran it out and thought about November 6th. I will be a few days into my next year on earth, am definitely far wiser, I will have raised nearly $4000 for charity, and my return to racing, athletics and my escape from shady fuckers will be cemented. So yeah, I'll take that confusing cash...this time.

Jeff

2011-10-20T10:08:00.003-04:00

Happy Birthday to Jeff Trollinger, who was taken from my life 21 years ago, far too early.

Jeff was an incredibly kind, considerate, good looking and wonderful person and I still think of him today.

breaking news

2011-10-20T09:04:00.002-04:00

However you spell his name, Gadhafi was captured and possibly killed today. Libya is about to experience some serious joy and some serious growing pains. I hope they don't replace one despot with another, because 42 years is enough time for multiple generations to be completely fucked up by repression.

Michelle Bachman doesn't understand that Libya is on the continent of Africa.

placeholder

2011-10-19T10:05:00.003-04:00

I got nothin today. I'm sure I will enhance this post later with some sort of work-related anecdote, but at the moment I'm just tired, it's rainy, my leg is swollen, and I'm dreading bouncing around on the eliptical tonight.

small victories

2011-10-16T20:54:00.003-04:00

I ran 20 miles today. I went through four of the five boroughs and over four bridges.

My knees feel like someone took a baseball bat to the outside of each one. My left knee hurt from the first step and I decided I would just run until it didn't hurt anymore. Turns out that's oxymoronic, but whatever. I suppose I was drawing on a quote that one of the run organizers had said.

"There will be a hundred reasons to slow down, stop, or give up. But you only need one to keep going, so find out what that is today."

My body hurts and tomorrow is going to hurt just as bad or worse, despite the yoga and epsom salt baths and steam room. But as I was falling asleep yesterday, a thought that occurred to me is, it is never going to hurt that bad again, because I will never be in this kind of bad shape again. I can move now.

pregunta

2011-10-13T02:59:00.003-04:00

A question for the ages....

How the fuck can I be exhausted every single day, yet be perpetually unable to sleep?

In other news.....I read this quote in the news this morning, and I have to say, while there is pretty much a 0.0 chance of me voting for him, regarding the idea that god has any place in government or should be used as a political weapon, I completely agree with 'ol Mittens on this:

“The idea that we somehow as political candidates are going to encourage the American people to make our selection based upon religion that is an idea that is entirely foreign to a nation which was founded with religious tolerance, religious plurality, religious respect. I think that is just the wrong direction for the country and not within the spirit of our nation’s heritage,” he continued.
“I just don’t believe that that kind of divisiveness based on religion has a place in this country,” Romney told reporters.

nails

2011-10-12T00:52:00.002-04:00

So there I was on the most beautiful. day. ever., which happened to have been Saturday. I had a crappy run, but was outside in the sunshine, so I didn't even care. I had a visitor I was ever so excited to see and got some errands done, all of which kept me outside for a good chunk of the day. Sunshine and warmth and no humidity and a street fair surrounded me. We should always be so lucky in New York, where the weather is nothing, if not unpredictable.

Toward the end of the day, I decided I should get a pedicure to cap off the beautiful day. Plus nobody likes jacked up feet with long, disgusting toenails. I marched myself around the corner, picked out a lovely shade of deep maroon and hopped in the spa chair. All seemed to be going well.

As per usual, the pedicurist tried to talk me into some $60 green tea, wax bootie, super massage pedi, but while I will spring for the pedicure, I am not interested in spending sixty of my hard-earned dollars for some lady to put lotion and paraffin wax on my feet, so I declined. She tried a few other "specials" and I finally relented at an extra ten minute leg massage, which it turns out, I actually really needed.

As things were wrapping up and the paint on my toes began to dry, I was directed over to the drying station, where the salon workers will give you a quick shoulder rub, while your toes are under the little blow dryer, finishing off. As I headed over, I was diverted to the massage chair. You know, those chairs you see at the mall or at road races, where you straddle the seat and rest with your stomach and head down so that a tiny person with really strong hands can massage your back without the full on table set up. I was tired by that point and wasn't paying attention, so I got in the chair and chilled out. I should point out that this chair was literally smack dab in the middle of the tiny salon, and was fully visible from outside the front door (which was wide open). She started on my shoulders and I was blown away by the tension and number of knots in my back and shoulders. The pedicurist-cum-massage therapist was actually doing a great job!

Until.

Suddenly, the bottom of my shirt was about halfway up my back and I felt the cool drip of a glob of lotion on my lower back. I started to sit up, but the pedi woman shushed me and said it was fine and to let her finish. That is, until she undid my bra and pushed my shirt completely up my back. Being in such a compromised and prone position, there wasn't a lot I could do but flail my arms as she told me to calm down and just let her continue, because my back was so full of knots and tension that she was compelled to smooth the situation out. I remarked that showing side-boob and an inordinate amount of back fat to a bunch of strangers wasn't really my gig and I heard some chuckles from the peanut gallery of women getting manicures nearby.

I sat, exposed, for a good twenty minutes before she was finished. People came and went and I could feel their stares as they passed by the massage chair on their way to less invasive experiences. Finally - mercifully - the exposure was over and I literally jumped out of the chair, credit card in hand. I noticed, as I paid and sprinted out the door, that every single eyeball in the place was firmly fixed on my beet red face. I have to find a new nail place now.

But my toes look great.

junior

2011-10-11T00:51:00.002-04:00

So here's how progressive I am. I went to have a drink tonight with my ex-boyfriend's son. Yes, my ex-boyfriend had knocked someone up at a young age, married her, divorced her and many years later, I met his son.

We became kind of close while I was dating dude, the son and I, so when I broke up with dude, it was kind of sad because I wasn't going to see Son anymore. Then we became friends on facebook. That totally makes it real, right? Facebook? Well it may not mean anything, but it does allow a chance to reconnect or make plans, which we did.

So I met Son on the corner because for some bizarre reason there was a bar over by Penn Station that he said he liked. I generally avoid Penn Station and by way of that, interaction with hordes of Long Island people, but I showed up anyway. Turns out Son wanted to meet on a corner, so he could be sure he wasn't being set up by his dad. In fact, that was the first thing he told me - that he hasn't talked to his dad and thought that it may be some kind of set up to get them talking again. Having had virtually no contact with my mother for years on end, I totally understand and we squashed the whole set up scenario, since I was secretly kind of worried he would be doing the same thing to me.

So there I was with Son, on a roofdeck with a Blue Moon for four hours. Yes, for four hours we sat and just talked and he told me what he's up to and what he wants and what he's afraid of and what he's excited about. It was awesome and I totally remember why I liked this kid in the first place. Articulate, good head on his shoulders, good sense of responsibility. He's also not really a kid, at 27, but hey....when you are talking about your ex's son, it's logical to call him a kid. I also learned, over the course of those hours, that all of my hunches and suspicions and questions about dude were completely right on. All of the little things that didn't quite add up and ultimately led me to leave him, were, in fact, lies. I'm not hurt by this, because I kind of saw it in real time, but it's nice to have your sanity and intuition verified.

As a sidebar, upon hearing of my plans to have drinks with Son, a friend of mine said "is he hot?"

"I'm not even going down that path of thoughts," I said. "Can you even imagine that conversation?? So....uh....'member when I used to sleep with your dad?"

No way, I am not doubling down on one family. But I will have drinks with him and listen to his big plans and try and give him advice when he asks for it. Because I'm progressive and I don't throw the baby out with the bathwater. Neither of us talk to him anymore, anyway.

stars

2011-10-10T01:48:00.001-04:00

At first glance this doesn't make much sense. Just think of all of the things this could imply however, and it starts to get really funny and kind of sad.

Too many dicks in the world. And I'm talking about the personality kind, not the physical appendage, of which I'm quite fond. Stop being dicks everyone, there is much to be done!

clown

2011-10-07T01:46:00.001-04:00

Nothing surprises me anymore. Having lived in Manhattan for seven years now - and having lived in practically every neighborhood - when I see people screaming, or jumping, or beating each other up, or sitting in a pink speedo and an open, flowery shirt with gold chains highlighting the chest hair with painted-white sunglasses, it really doesn't faze me anymore. It's part of the fabric of the city.

However, tonight (last night when you're reading this), there I was, sauntering my neighborhood while I talked on the phone when all of a sudden, a man walked by in a pair of jeans and a random, regular jacket, with a red, plastic devil mask on. He started growling. Like, stopped as he intersected my path and with his hands up, stared at me and growled menacingly.

Of course I didn't give him a second glance and kept walking, but then he actually followed me a few steps and started to growl louder and as he did that, he stopped at a bus stop structure and started jumping up and down and beating on the glass.

What was he trying to accomplish?

easy

2011-10-06T16:13:00.005-04:00

Kind of a cop-out to just put up a photo, but I agree with it and I think it's worth displaying. Sorry Palin, Bachman, O'Donnell, general republican audience....we're going to have to start treating human beings like human beings now. It's not 1951 anymore.

hankers

2011-10-04T14:55:00.002-04:00

Wow and woooow are all I have to say, here.

I think this is what makes Fox News so awesome.....educated, high quality, well-spoken guests. I think the funniest thing about this Hank Williams Jr. clip is that even the anchors have that "o shit what have we done - he's nuts" look on their faces.

In all seriousness, I wish republicans would take a good, hard look at how they are portraying themselves and their party. It's just the scariest thing ever that all of these rednecked, semi-literate, hyper-conservative, bible thumpers are swarming the airwaves and the pages of newspapers and magazines, trying to shove people back into the closet, kick the only people who will do the jobs that are beneath them out of the country, foil the only chance at health care (which by the way is a right and not a privilege, a-holes) that some people will ever have, and basically just regress a few decades.

Even though 'ol Hankers issued the requisite "I'm (totally not) sorry", it was disingenuous and he randomly capitalized every other word, seemingly because he has no grasp of the written word. Or perhaps he couldn't see what he was writing from behind his uber-dark sunglasses. I always love it when a person is so obnoxious that they won't even take their sunglasses off inside. If that doesn't scream "I'm seriously not a total douchebag" then I don't know what does.

bubbles

2011-10-04T10:33:00.006-04:00

I am about to boil over as Boss and I have already had a few fun and fantastic contentious moments today. Rather than tell Boss what I am actually thinking, I decided to go for a little run (which I was able to do because I lied about where I was going) and vent online, in order to save my sanity and my job.

This morning's requests started out with more of the usual bullshit - eg. "please send so and so my complete information with address, cell and email (with the other person copied on the message)." In non-entitled rich person speak that means "I'm too lazy to type my own information right now, so in about 8 hours, will you do it for me?"

Par for the course, so that shit is barely moving the needle anymore. But the huffing and the yelling and the flipping out are just a little much. I've come to the conclusion that my mere existence is too much for Boss to handle. I don't normally have this effect on people, so this is a curious situation. There is no opportunity for small talk, no response whatsoever to my witticisms, no praise for good work. I have had zero opportunity to get to know this person, despite my best efforts - and there have been many efforts. No instead there are heavy sighs, blatant ignoring and then just chastising. Sounds like my last relationship, actually.

The best part about this situation is that I haven't actually done anything wrong. I haven't fucked anything up, haven't missed any deadlines, haven't hurt or offended anyone. I'm just persona non-grata for reasons I can't figure out. Or maybe Boss just needs a six foot punching bag, which I am unwilling to be.

I intend to get to the bottom of this because my coworkers see this and are also mystified by the obvious and undeserved hostility. Stay tuned, as there is a meeting scheduled for about 5:30pm EST. I may or may not be writing about unemployment again......

da rowa

2011-10-03T10:42:00.004-04:00

http://asp.elitefts.net/qa/training-logs.asp?qid=155025&tid=

Follow this link to go to a post written by a moron. As it turns out dumbass, the rowing machine, also known as an erg, is a great training tool for anyone, provided they learn how to do it properly. It also doesn't strain the joints the way a lot of powerlifting exercises do and to boot, it aids in recovery, when done as steady state.

Do some research maybe, before you spout off, meathead. Your little quip at in the sign off makes no sense, so stop saying stupid stuff.

howse

2011-10-02T21:46:00.000-04:00

You know you're getting old when it takes an extra day to recover from the sleep loss of a party, in addition to metabolizing the 409238 drinks you had.

liker disliker

2011-09-30T00:37:00.002-04:00

I'm a man-lover by definition. Love the way men smell, the way they look, feel....you get the idea.

Today however, I am a man-disliker. Not a man-hater, because I don't know that I could ever hate a gender that I so love to look at, hang out with and uh....all the rest of the stuff that doesn't need to be articulated. There is no way I can keep this disliking up for long, but I feel I must be heard, at this juncture.

I dislike at this point in time, because I have no representatives of the Y chromosome persuasion in the last handful of years who are able to follow through on anything or do anything other than talk, talk, talk, or rather text, text, text. I loathe dating, hence my conscious effort to avoid getting into relationships for most of my life. Dating is like a great waterslide that ends with a cliff and a craggy beach below - tons of fun, followed by excruciating pain and annoyance. Meeting people is fun. Making out is fun. Getting to know what makes people tick and what you have in common is fun. Until it isn't, or until the lack of pursuit or follow through, followed by a bunch of excuses comes along and it gets tedious.

Men of the world: you have become insanely lazy with your courting efforts. I speak not only for myself here. If you plan to get into the goodies, you had better plan to be amazing and deserving of them. I guess this is why I have chosen spinsterhood for so long. No, boys, there is nothing wrong with me, I don't bring baggage to a situation and yes, I really am that cool. I don't go looking for problems, but if something isn't right....I'm outta there. Too little time in life to waste it on inconsistency.

Get your shit together Y's. And then, elect a worthy representative to date me. I refuse to give up the hope and confidence I have in all of you, o men who I appreciate so much. Don't let my guy friends be the only stand up dudes in my life. I want the whole thing, so deliver. The challenge has been issued.....

lil mich

2011-09-29T01:53:00.000-04:00

I am developing a serious girl crush. This woman is so....well....

Michelle Bachman is taking me by storm. I mean, I feel like I'm cheating on Sarah Palin, because I don't know if I'm allowed to be morbidly fascinated with two hyper-conservative, wingnut, "christian" women, but I think it's okay.

Michelle Bachman has completely bought into her shtick. Her husband can cure gays and she can make it so that we have no taxes at all! That pesky infrastructure is ancillary, guys...we don't need it! Did I mention that she shows up with a unicorn in a pink Trans Am to all her rallies? Amazing that one.

And unlike her roguey-mavericky counterpart, Palin, she can actually finish something. My Michelle, well she doesn't ditch out half way and waffle around like that campy Palin does, under the guise of "helping the nation" (read raking in cash from idiots who believe her rhetoric). Michelle Bachman will finish her term and her campaign and dutifully give us more whimsical, factually inaccurate quotes before the Republican nominee is chosen.

This is just the tip of the iceberg.

listen

2011-09-28T07:40:00.001-04:00

Ya game ova bitch gatorade, wap-tow.

I feel like I'm picking up momentum now and I have had some really good runs lately. Figured I'd toss out what I am listening to - or part of it, anyway, in no particular order. I'm digging getting into music again, too. The benefits just keep coming.

Rise Against - Satellite

Kanye West - All of the Lights

Lupe Fiasco - Beautiful Lasers (2 ways)

Nikki Minaj - Blazin

DJ Khaled - All I do is Win

Linkin Park - Hit the Floor

The Living End - Short Notice

Asteroid Galaxy Tour - The Golden Age

Jay Z - 99 Problems

Eminem - Won't Back Down

The Verve - Bittersweet Symphony

Frou Frou - Let Go

Staind - For You

Florence and the Machine - Dog Days Are Over

Rise Against - Architects

The Roots - Game Theory

Nikki Minaj - Superbass

Linkin Park - Points of Authority

Eminem - Lose Yourself

N.E.R.D. - Rockstar

Lil Wayne - Drop the World

DJ Khaled - We Takin Over

Nelly - #1

Urban Renewal Program - Wylin Out

Tinie Timpeh - Written in the Stars

Dropkick Murphy - Barroom Hero

Jay Z - Numb / Encore

Greenday - St. Jimmy

Who knew I was a bit of a Nikki Minaj fan?!

anvil

2011-09-27T04:18:00.003-04:00

I have a friend in a seriously fucked up relationship. Yes, this is about a friend and not a metaphor for myself. It disturbs me to the point of articulating it though, because she has been sinking for way, way too long.

Without going into the 'oh emm gee can you believe he did A-Z?', the guy is basically about as unmotivated as they come. He is supposedly a student, but never seems to actually be progressing in school. At over thirty years old, all he does is "go to school", play online video games (which is just creepy), smoke the reefer and sleep. Literally. I have no problem with smoking the chiba, but to excess is, well, excessive. I used to live with this girl and the dude was awake maybe 1% of the time that he was over. All they did when I lived there was stay in her room and sleep and fight.

The worst of this was having to hear it all the time. He wasn't over much, maybe one day a week at most, but when he was there, there was bound to be an explosive fight over something, with him being hurtful, her being shocked and saddened, him running out of the house and her - literally - chasing him screaming down the common hallway our apartments all share, shoes or no, rain or shine. And of course afterward, she would come to me with her tear-stained face to try and ascertain the why of it all.

I'll tell you why: your boyfriend is a selfish asshole who needs to grow up. I can spot these now, because I used to have one. Mine was better and worse in different ways, but the gist was the same. All talk, all outer shell, nothing legitimate inside. She has broken up with this dude a dozen times over legitimately stupid or cruel shit he has done and said and then takes him back every time for reasons I cannot fathom. At one point she was worried about what he would say to other people since they had broken up.

Why do girls do this? Why do you give a fuck what some stunted idiot is going to say about you? It's pretty easy to figure out that a narcissistic, mental juvenile will say narcissistic and immature things, in an effort to make himself somehow look good, despite the fact that he's a complete blowhard and an excuse for a partner. Duh. The best revenge is a happy life and the disappearance of the shitty person, so just go with that. Move on. Focus on your life and on what makes you happy and *hint* it's not that dude.

The point of this post though, is that there is a lesson here. I actually learned this lesson a few years ago, but I'd like to toss it out for general consumption. When you tell your friends what an asshole your boyfriend is - repeatedly over a very long period of time - and then you make up excuses for his bad behavior, all while crying on the shoulders of people who care about you, we grow to hate your douchebag boyfriend and want you to dump his ass. Then we get to a point where we want to slap some sense into you, and finally we don't want to hear the dude's name, don't want to hear about your relationship, good or bad, and it gets more difficult to talk to you and be around you, because you are wearing the nasty film of a bad partnership all over your face, voice, body language and emotions.

Instead of listening to all of his fantastic stories and fluff, watch what he does. Watch how he acts and pay attention to how he is really treating you. I guarantee that what you want and what is happening are two completely different scenarios. If he cared about you, he would act like it. If he doesn't give a squirt of piss about you, what is important to you, or your relationship together, he will act like it.

In case you aren't aware, he's acting like the latter part of that paragraph. Open your eyes and then make some decisions.

If you don't want an absentee relationship, don't be in one. If he doesn't do what he says he's going to, dump him. Early on. He's not going to change. If he's unsupportive and manipulative with the private things you share, drop his ass. He's not going to suddenly decide to take the focus off of himself, because that would mean acknowledging that there are other people in the world and he'd have to do more than just sit around like a 300 pound cat spouting bullshit, pointing at things and playing around on his stupid computer all day and night. The best time in your relationship - and every single long-married person I know says this - is when you are dating and first married. So if it sucks now, you are only going to go downhill from here and why in the hell would you want to do that, knowing that some inevitable tough times lie ahead? Is this really who you would want to be in the trenches with?

Lose the anvil pinning you down, girl. It's really not as heavy as you think, and you'll be amazed at how much better you feel right away when you say goodbye for real. But, you're still not allowed to talk to me about him. Sorry, but I've had all of the shitty relationship bullshit a person can handle for one lifetime, so either help yourself or zip it. I love you!

.....too harsh?.......

things i never asked for

2011-09-26T01:14:00.006-04:00

By the title, this could easily be a post about idiot men and broken promises and all of that nonsense that's been reported since the beginning of time. It isn't, however.

This is instead about idiot Boss and Boss's stupid requests and frequent temper tantrums and explosive anger over things Boss never even asked for. Todays outbursts featured a request that was emailed at 7am for lunch reservations at Bergdorf Goodman's 7th floor restaurant. Having never been to Bergie's - because what's the fucking point in that - I wondered what lunch in a super duper high end department store in Midtown would cost. Here is the menu. While some of the items look delicious, it's lunch! On a Monday! Anyway, the request was sent in at 7am and I arrive at work at 8:30am. At 8:38, Boss (who will not show up until almost 11) emails me frantically to ask me why the request has not been filled so that Boss and Boss's friend can go and kibbutz and then charge it on the company's dime. Clearly there is nothing more important for me to do first thing on a Monday than make lunch reservations at some swanky place at 8:30 in the morning so Boss can have a two hour lunch. Clearly.

The one that really got me though, was the reaction to my completion of a project for which I had been given detailed, handwritten instructions. I followed the instructions to the letter. The project was completed last week - ahead of schedule - and was done to the exact directions I was given. To boot, I attached the handwritten instructions to the back of the completed project so that Boss could peruse the changes and see if there were further amendments to be made. Rather than take a gander at Boss's own notes, Boss took one quick scan of the docs and came charging out of the office, papers waving wildly and at an elevated pitch scolded me for not removing some clauses and for generally sucking due to an obvious lack of attention to the detailed instructions provided to me.

Lucky for me, everyone knows boss is a lunatic. Not lucky for me, but interesting to note, is that Boss didn't provide the instructions that induced the hysteria. Nary an email, post-it, sheet of paper nor word was provided with the second set of items. So now I suck because I'm not a mind-reader. Hmmm....I've been down this road before.

I've decided that I'm just working for the bonus, while carefully crafting other plans. I do plan to visit the psychic who sits out in her folding chair eating gummy snacks and staring daggers into passersby for not stopping for some kookery, so that maybe I can at least have a heads up next time the tree guy fucks up at Boss's house and sends Boss off the deep end (or in the event of any similar scenario), so I'll know to come to the office in full mental kevlar. This way, I'll at least have the benefit of a heads up and be able to bite my tongue better.

Today I said "so what you're telling me is that despite the fact that you didn't say anything about any of that at any point in time, I've done a shit job."

"You need to be more detail oriented, is what I'm telling you."

"Despite the complete absence of information?"

With this there was a heavy sigh. The kind that says "yes, I know you're correct here, but I'm going to continue being an asshole, rather than submit."

Fucking looney bin.

the x's

2011-09-22T01:22:00.003-04:00

My gender frightens me, sometimes. Okay more than sometimes.

So there I was, walking home after a particularly intoxicating dinner (yummy hot sake), enjoying the clear, un-humid, fall air - which is like the chupacabra of New York weather. I got a call and so I continued walking and I ended up going from the East Village, all the way over and up past the Flatiron, as I made my way toward the dreadful Penn Station area, when I decided to catch a cab the rest of the way home. It was about 10:30pm on a Tuesday and there seemed to be a shortage of taxis available. No bother, I thought, I'll keep walking.

I stopped at one point, seeing a cab approaching from a couple of blocks away, turned and stuck my arm up to signal that I'd be catching that ride. Literally as if on cue, a gaggle of chicks wobbling around like new fawns on their six inch stick-heels tumbled up next to me and did a full-on pack interference cab steal. Seriously, it was like something you would see in a movie and I was stopped in my tracks, staring at what had just happened, while they clacked over and shoved each other into the closed door of the cab, the leader trying to hold them off as she attempted to open the door.

Losing the cab wasn't the problem for me there, because there was another right behind the first and I just hopped in that one, while the gaggle were still struggling to untangle their heels and successfully get into their appropriated ride. What disconcerted me were the girls themselves. They were young, maybe 24 or 25, dressed in all of the drippings and bindings of your typical twenty-something Manhattanites and all had on very tall, double platform, stiletto pumps, atop which they teetered and listed while looking down to avoid stepping in a crack or divot in the sidewalk. They carried expensive bags and they shouted in a high pitch to each other as they careened back and forth into one another, thereby moving as more of an animated, screaming blob, than a group. I'd love to say this is somehow a sort of anomaly, but this is the state of chicks in the city now and it's frightening.

I'm not knocking getting dolled up or purchasing high heels. At six feet tall, I have many pairs of high heels myself and I wear them proudly (especially now that I can again). My problem is with the shrieking and the obliviousness and what comes across as the desire to either be or at least act completely stupid and vacant. When did being a smart woman become so passe? When did having your wits about you and acting in a graceful manner get ditched in favor of not paying attention, making a spectacle and looking like a dumbass? How is that productive or desirable in any way?

Attention idiot twenty-and-thirty-something chicks: you are not Carrie Bradshaw. And if you were, she's like 46 now and advertises a range of wrinkle creams, so give it up. Your little broke-for-shoes existence is vapid and you look like an moron. Spend some more time reading books and keeping up on the world around you and for fucks sakes, stop yelling at squeaky, unnecessarily high decibels and conduct yourself like a lady and not some piece of bumpkin garbage. If you're going to spend all that money on clothes and accessories, at least don't shame the gilded wrapping by being an imbecile.

I totally see this changing things.

bad sign

2011-09-17T01:21:00.000-04:00

This is an accurate representation of shit I find funny. Subtle, but it gave me the giggles, so now I'm sharing. And I'm not even drunk.

freitag

2011-09-16T06:54:00.002-04:00

So here's what's awesome: my peeps will be in town this weekend! Well two of them, anyway.

The funny thing about making changes in your life is that all of a sudden, all of these random, not seemingly interconnected things start happening. People suddenly are free to come and visit, clothes fit better, dates come out of the woodwork and - shockingly - even the financial despair eases up a tad (a small tad, due to a $340 phone bill....whaaaat?).

So this weekend in addition to a two and a half hour run in a pain cave, I will have two of my way back in the day dudes in town for fun and hyjinx and probably some unconventional and immature activities. This means however, that tonight I have to mind my bevvies so that I can complete said run in the smallest pain cave possible.

This is yet another awesome benefit of training. Sacrifice. I am relearning the sacrifice struggle of having so much to do that is questionably healthy, and instead choosing my goals, when a conflict arises. These guys know me well enough and from that time period where I was a leader in that aspect, to know that I both can and will get it all done. And I will have extra people cheering for me as I cruise across the finish line in 49 days, with another box checked.

With that said, bring on the Moscow Mule - my new favorite.

change

2011-09-13T01:11:00.002-04:00

Here's something I'm curious about: hot-heads and their propensity to "speak their mind".

The pretext for this is that I was standing in a line for a good or service - as I often do - when the two people in front of me seemed to have some misgivings about one another. Actually, the person directly in front of me had a problem with the person in front of him, who happened to be paying at the register at the time.

Now the person paying was fumbling for change, so that the correct amount of cash would be presented for his purchase. As we all know, dealing in cash takes a fraction longer than paying by card most times. It's the world we live in people, accept it already. But he hadn't really taken that long, actually. Not even worthy of a heavy sigh, by my estimation, but then again, I'm not a psychotic hot-head. The person in front of me did not agree. He shuffled from one foot to the other, tapping his hand on his leg and it was like I was watching the mercury rise all the way up to his eyebrows in twenty five seconds or less. As there was only one point of sale location, there was no way out for dude and as the cashier was accepting the change and generating the receipt, dude had finally hit his breaking point. His breaking point took about thirty total seconds to reach, by the way, which is practically an eternity as we all know.

"What the FUCK?!" he whisper-yelled. "Whaaat the fuuuuuuck?!"

With that he charged up on the register before the receipt was even handed over and told the other customer to get the hell out and move along. The first customer stared at him blankly in disbelief, as did everyone else in the establishment. Dude was right up on the guy and the cashier started to look worried, as did I, because I knew if these dudes went to blows, it was going to be me to break it up in my dress and heels. The first customer told dude to cool off, gave him a dirty look, and went on his way like a normal person. Dude however, continued to bitch that his time and space were being egregiously violated. Then, startlingly, dude turned around and announced to me and the other patrons that he had to speak his mind because people like that ruin New York. I rolled my eyes....heard this line before.

People like that ruin New York?

No sir, it's fucking wacko hot-heads like you that ruin New York and everything, for that matter. People who just have to find something wrong and just have to flex their fat and just have to yell and make a spectacle, because you are so full of toxic sludge on the inside that you feel justified in acting like a completely insane douchebag, making everyone around you uncomfortable just so you can "speak your mind". How about shut the fuck up? No one wants to hear you rant about the lack of speed at check out, violations of your personal space, or why people don't trot along faster on the sidewalk, as if those offenses are somehow directed at you.

It's a big city; deal with it. People are everywhere, there are trash bags on the sidewalk, the cabbies drive like shit and tourists will stop and gawk and delay you every chance they get. You can't deal with it? Move.

Actually my greatest idea in a while is to take all of these people that embarrass those around them (and yes, the people around them are embarrassed - I used to be one of those embarrassed people) and move them all to a remote location somewhere in Missouri or Wyoming where they can build their own town of half-cocked assholes and go richter on each other any time they want. And the other stack blowers won't mind, because it will be their turn to erupt soon, too. That way, all of the rational people who don't love yelling so much can move on with our reasonably patient and drama-free lives. I'm going to make suggestion cards and start handing them out just to plant the seed that the high strung should hit the road. If you get one....try your shit on me. I dare you - because we all know that the ones with the longest fuses are the most dangerous to cross, in the end.

decade

2011-09-12T01:40:00.001-04:00

I dreaded the "10 year anniversary".

While I appreciate that people want to (and should) remember and pay respects to those who lost their lives in 2001, there is an opportunism about the way the remembrances and tributes have gone that leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

I wasn't here that day. I was driving in LA when traffic came to a dead stop - more dead stopped than usual - and I had to work my way off of the freeway and drive home, only to watch it over and over and over again. After I moved to New York, it was impossible to escape the discussions, images, and since I worked about two blocks from the World Trade Center, every year the bands and the flags and the rememberers were never more than a look out the window away.

Then I met someone who was more deeply affected by that day than anyone else I knew and I saw what it did to him and what it took from those around him, including me. That he was an asshole already is immaterial, because watching someone - or rather going through the healing process WITH someone who has endured that kind of trauma is heartbreaking, no matter what kind of person they are. It's horrifying and unjust to be unwittingly put in harms way and then have to fumble around and figure out how to move on afterward, with no road map for how to erase it from your mind, or look at the world happily again.

So the 9/11 wine, the 9/11 purchasable handbooks, the 9/11 sweatshirts, hats, ice cream flavors and whatever else they come up with, piss me off. Show some respect already. Unless every cent of those sales goes to medical care for the survivors, or assistance for the educations of children who lost parents, no one should be making a fucking cent off of this tragedy.

And if you are, shame on you.

need

2011-09-09T11:17:00.002-04:00

http://run.livestrong.org/teamls2011/rachelrose

I'm past the halfway mark, but have more to go to hit my fundraising mark by October 19th. Everything helps and I'm so very appreciative to everyone who has donated thus far.

This weekend will be a 14 - 15 mile run and I'm very happy with how my training is starting to shape up. I've definitely made some serious progress and as a result of all of my efforts, nearly every area of my life has improved dramatically. If you want big rewards, take big risks and go full force. Anything less than a full effort is a waste of time.

I'm going.

magnum

2011-09-08T06:17:00.001-04:00

Mid-week drinking is not good for me anymore. Also, I am a cheap date since my training picked up, but don't tell that to me last night, as I participated (and was one of a whopping two person party) in drinking a magnum of wine.

No more boozing while I'm training; I'm off the sauce.

That egg wrap and crack shake were damn good this morning though.

five six

2011-09-07T07:31:00.003-04:00

Dear 56th Street,

I greatly appreciate your efforts to clean up the stench and grime that bakes in the sun and turns to a fetid soup in the rain, up and down the block. The thousands of people who walk your street daily have had to endure for far too long, the pools of green, radio-active-looking waste from thousands of cups and plates of god knows what.

My favorite memory is of having one of said pools splash onto my feet as I walked to get lunch on an especially hot and humid day. The puddle even made it over the natural garbage bag barrier, which is generally between two and four feet high, which means the pothole was especially deep and well-formed. Makes one feel so fresh.

I am not alone in this. It is a frequent topic among my co-workers and random people you see holding their noses as they pass certain points on our block. 56th Street is the worst street in the city, with regard to scent and welcoming odors.

So I thank you, dear 56th Street, for taking the time to tear up the road and repave, removing the potholes and putrid stink. O wait, the putrid stink got to stay, I forgot. Yeah so that whole repaving thing was an excellent idea and it desperately needed to be done, but now the odiforousness has moved to the gutters, which lack the proper drainage to move the river of rotted lettuce and leftover wine to the sewers and out to our lovely New York harbor. No instead, the river becomes a lake in the gutter and we begin the cycle of baking and turning to putrid slush all over, just in a different location in the roadway. Way to shuffle your vegetables on the plate.

Improvement. Your tax dollars at work.

moves

2011-09-06T00:09:00.002-04:00

I found myself in a cab up in Harlem on Sunday night. I wasn't anticipating anything that happened on Sunday, so being in a cab on 141st Street fit right into everything else I was just rolling with.

So there we sat: my friend, our cabbie who spoke Russian mostly, and me. We were waiting to turn right when the man for whom we waited to cross the street had a problem with the fact that we had pulled perhaps a few inches too far forward. Let's describe man.

He was something of a little fellow, perhaps homeless, perhaps just not up on his luck. He was balding slightly, with dirt smeared on his skin in some places and his blue work pants and t-shirt were soiled and torn. He had a bit of a hunch going and never walked fully forward, rather he sort of hunched and listed from side to side, turning enough that it eventually equaled forward progress. He was clearly agitated before he got to front bumper of the cab, which had offended the stripes crosswalk.

By the time he reached the cab, he had had enough of the world and was just through with all of it. He began running around the side of the car and then back to the front, waving his arms. He would take a few steps, stop, wave his arms, take a few more steps and repeat the process. He leaned in to yell at the driver through the windshield, but was careful not to touch the car, jumping around instead as if he would be electrocuted should his skin touch the hood. Back and forth, side to side he ran and jumped and waved and it ran out of funny pretty quickly, until we were ready to nudge him out of the way with the car. I mean, I was ready to nudge him with the car. I don't know if anyone else would want to be on record as saying they were ready to run some lunatic over for a right turn, but I'm pretty sure they were.

This went on for way, way too long and I finally yelled out

"Jesus dude....make a move already".

I was getting irritated until I stopped and realized that the other people in the car had fallen out laughing. Yeah, I just challenged a pocket man of questionable sanity to a fight from inside a car. This of course, sparked an entire spin-off into what would have happened if the dude squared up, whether or not any of us would have wanted to touch him to fight him, whether or not it would take an actual punch or just the threat of a punch for him to fall down (assuming he was drunk) and how long that would keep us from our own drinks and a timely arrival at the bar.

I still think nudging with the car would have been the way to go. Avoid contact, make a strong point without actually injuring him, never have to leave the vehicle. Spic and span.

If he had wanted to fight though, I could have taken him.

biting

2011-09-01T03:33:00.002-04:00

I was awakened at 3:09 this morning.

Not from a fire truck, police siren, drunk people screaming or loud neighbors. No, I was awake because I had nine bites (that I counted) and was itching so badly in my sleep that it jarred me awake. I left the window open when I fell asleep, because I hate the air that comes out of the a/c, and they seized the opportunity to pounce. I feel like they must hover outside the window waiting to see an infrared glimpse of me, lighting up their world like I'm on fire. O how they must lick their chops and dance with excitement as I drift to sleep, knowing they can all file in and take turns picking off veins. Horrifying.

I am what is known as 'bug candy'. If we are camping, the safest spot for you is next to me, because all of the mosquitoes and biting bugs will pass you by, because I am there. It's been this way my entire life. I played soccer for twelve years. Twelve years of running through grass at dusk, my legs screaming "dinner!!" at all biting insects in the area. It has never waned and I have employed every wives tale and bug repellent tactic known to man.

I think it's time to provide a little education as to why this happens. It's fascinating, really, and does give credence to my dad's theory that I just have sweet blood. Should I ever travel to Africa or South East Asia, you can bet that I will deal with the anti-malaria sickness and employ my "dork fan" (as my friend calls it) - which is a magical fan made by Off - so I can survive. Bite or be bitten.

In addition to the educational link provided, to avoid getting bug bites, or reduce the number at least, here are some wives tale-y tips:

1. Do not eat bananas during bug biting season. Something in the way they metabolize attracts the bugs like a neon light. Theoretically, anyway.

2. Carry a dryer sheet in your pocket. No real evidence that this actually works, but what can it hurt? Worst case scenario is you smell extremely Downy fresh.

3. Eat garlic. I think this is just a general rule for repelling anything.

Best of luck, friends.

rdv

2011-08-31T14:35:00.004-04:00

I have the city of brotherly love on my mind at the moment....

8.5 days, 7 workouts and a TON of anticipation.

This is keeping me from going postal on everyone in my office....okay, well Boss and a few others, as they do their damndest to be oblivious, irritating and intolerably bitchy and snipey about everything under the sun. Today, everything under the sun includes - among many, many other things - presentation tabs. I don't know why it takes eight emails to spell out that we need exactly what we already have, just more of it, but apparently this is what is required to push this asinine and unnecessary acquisition forward and it is rocket science to some people. Boss is also happily contributing by being inexplicably unable to navigate the use of a three hole puncher on Boss's own. I have a degree. I'm a smart girl. I swear.

But in 8 days, I'm not gonna be thinking about it for even a second.

Can't. wait. See? Now I'm smiling again. Yay.

trifecta

2011-08-30T00:03:00.003-04:00

I knew it would happen! In the last week there has been an earthquake and a hurricane. I said jokingly, that next would be pestilence and I was right.

At 11:21pm I received a message (as did the rest of my company) from the head of HR letting us know that the floor underneath ours has 'tested positive' for bed bugs. They say it was just a small and contained area, but let's be honest. It's a trading desk and they are free to roam. No one is safe.

Bed bugs.

The teeny tiny little honey colored gnawing pests of doom. That bite and bite and multiply like rabbits so they can bite and breed some more, all over any surface you own that has some semblance of fabric on it.

O lordy what a mess that could be. I'd hate to be the person whose desk had to be quarantined and sniffed out by Roscoe the bed bugs beagle. I'd hate to have to be relocated to another part of the floor or home, because that's like instant-outcast status. Who wants to sit next to the kid with the cooties? And what if the bed bugs went home with you? Or worse yet, what if they came IN with you? That means that no one around your area would be safe, because those little fuckers would be hitching rides all over the city.

I won't even walk on the same side of the street as a discarded mattress or sofa. No way. Last Christmas there were a couple of movie theaters that got infested. I still won't go in them, despite emphatic reassurances that they are clean and pest-free. So should any part of my floor test positive, you can bet I will be the first one to claim some sort of emotional distress and get the hell out of here. And worse, if I find out who the carrier for these little ass-biters is, I will most likely be forced to look at him or her in a different way. Sympathetic to their plight for sure, but kind of....well....ew.

But the good news is, since things come in threes, we should be good to just chill for a while....maybe.....

hurrickin

2011-08-29T00:50:00.001-04:00

That's how old people say hurricane and I think it's funny. Kind of like dah-a-beetis instead of diabetes.

Anyway, funnest hurricane ever! I snuck in nine miles on Saturday morning and during the last mile, the heavens opened and we were soaked like drowned rats. Fun! Then I went to the wine store when I got home and since the line was out the door, I made friends and we talked about how emergency preparedness should always include copious amounts of booze. Fun!

I fielded some calls from the west coast from concerned citizens who had heard about the hurricane this weekend and the earthquake last week - yes the earthquake that went from Virginia to Boston - and I told them to stay tuned, because this week would probably see us have an attack of locusts to complete the natural event trifecta. I do feel badly for the people who endured flooding and downed power lines, because that's gotta suck in a big way. For my experience from Midtown West however, I was having a good time. Booze, food, and several very long, very fun conversations which have led to many intriguing plans for the near and far term.

The best part though, was walking to my office on Saturday night in the torrent and stopping at 7th avenue to look down toward Times Square, which was completely. empty. Not a car or a soul in sight, but all the lights were still going as if it were packed. I love when I get glimpses of the city like that. Makes me feel like I'm on my own little island for a few hours.

Back to reality in the morning though, as the city rolls on and the partners all make excuses for why we should all come in and they should stay home and enjoy the perfect, perfect weather that lies ahead. We knew this would happen, but at least we had fun!

ha

2011-08-26T08:42:00.004-04:00

This morning I woke up antsy and unsatisfied. I think this is as a result of training and being tired and having insomnia and not being able to sleep. I didn't run this morning and I was sort of beating myself up about it, so I tidied up my room, wrote out my next steps on the dry erase, took a shower and came to work.

Then I read something I have made a point of not reading, just because I felt like it and this place is boring. It was exactly what I needed, despite the fact that it irritated the shit out of me. The irritation lasted about ten minutes. Then I sat back and thought about how being upset for even a second isn't worth it, because I don't actually care about anything I had read. I pondered that for a minute.

Then, as if on cue, I got a text and a wide, mischievous smile came over my face.

Back to diving in headfirst.

shine

2011-08-25T00:42:00.002-04:00

I need some new powder for my nose. I hate when my face looks shiny in photos. For a long time I sort of inconspicuously avoided taking photos, but I’m out of that phase now, so it’s something I notice. I was thinking about this as I answered the phone.

When I talk on the phone, I leave my apartment because I don’t want my roommates in my business. I take my calls outside and either walk around my neighborhood or sit on the steps in the front. I noticed last night that the hot dude that lives in the building across from mine must come home around this time, because this is the third time I’ve seen him. I’m like a guy in that way, I guess. I notice attractive men and I look.

I talked with a longtime friend of mine last night. At one time, we were very close and then as happens, we drifted apart, only to be put randomly back in touch about a month ago. This was our second conversation and we started to get into some slightly deeper things and I remembered why I was good friends with her in the first place. Just a cool chick.

So at one point we were talking about the big challenges we both have ahead and she said

“…but I think all of that is good stuff! You seem to have a lot to think about, but it seems like it will be good either way, you know?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m not upset at all that these are the decisions I have to make right now. You know when you’re in the middle of something sucky and you know it’s sucky, but you find a way to have some good moments anyway? And then there’s just one change and it’s like the wheels turn and you realize exactly how fucking sucky things really were?” “I’m there and my motivation is high, so it’s all good stuff now.”

“Holy shit, dude.” There was a pregnant pause at the end and I started to wonder if maybe the call was dropped.

“Holy shit, what?”

“I know exactly….I mean exactly what you’re talking about. You ever wonder how you made it through all of that?"

"Nah," I said. "You do what you have to do and although I maybe would have listened to myself a lot earlier, it was time to go, so I went."

"Like Eddie."

"Yeah, Eddie would go."

Exhibit A

2011-08-23T01:45:00.000-04:00

In reference to the aforementioned 'type' I deal with in my workplace, I offer you Exhibit A; a brief but illustrative anecdote.

Boss is on vacation right now. Out of the country, a couple time zones away, but with full internet access, mind you, so really it's like boss is not even gone. I am peppered with a couple dozen email requests and flip-outs per day, but no bother because it is easier than dealing with boss in person. One such request went like this:

Boss was contacted by a third party asking after boss's address. Rather than reply to the person directly and type out the address, Boss forwards ME the request, cc's the third party and asks me to give third party Boss's address. Yes, you read that correctly.

I comply and email Boss's home address (the email read as a personal request), third party writes me back to thank me, I move on with my day.

Four hours later, Boss emails me and cc's the third party again, to inform me that I should send over Boss's work address instead, thus AGAIN seizing the opportunity to not do something him or herself and to pass it over to someone else, thereby wasting everyone's time for no good reason.

I again comply and send over the work address to the third party, copying Boss on the note. An hour and a half after I send that, Boss emails me a third time to ask if I have sent the correct information. I wish I could tell you that this was somehow out of character. But no, it was just Monday.

bullet points

2011-08-22T13:08:00.004-04:00

* It took seven hours to make what should be a four hour trip back to New York yesterday. Highlights included the driver stopping literally in the middle lane of the highway, cutting off three lanes of traffic, stopping at the side of the road and letting two people out - with no bags - who then just started walking down the shoulder of the highway with no discernible destination in sight.

This trip was finished off by a wet t-shirt contest featuring me, when I couldn't find a cab in the pouring rain for twenty minutes, as I tried to hail one in a white t-shirt. I'm hoping the onlookers appreciated it.

* The man who sits out in front of Duane Reade on 6th Avenue near my office usually shouts out obscene and offensive things to women who pass by such as "you're a whore and you should get a fucking job". I ignore him, as I do most people, and refuse to make eye contact.

Today however, he had changed his tune a bit and was yelling "Iiiiiiiiiiii'mm so poooooooooorrrr" over and over in some sort of mantra. I still ignored him. I'm poor, too.

* I recently received some news of a possibility that would bring 3/4 of my crew together long term. A move in the next several months is nearly imminent. This is exciting and just adds an extra spotlight on the fact that my decisions in the last couple of months have pretty much been nothing but good ones.

* I am in the market for an affordable, yet highly effective massage therapist because my knee is putting a serious damper on my training. It would probably be counterproductive to just go in myself and cut my IT band in half, to relieve the pressure. Happy ending not required.

* I had the most amazing escargot appetizer this weekend and I'm still thinking about it. Despite the escargot, which was basically marinating in melted butter, garlic and oregano, I have lost a full twenty pounds. Go me.

That's all....nothing more to see here...go back to your simple lives.