Pavlovian Response

I made an interesting discovery in my least-favourite class this evening.

We were actually having a really great session. There was a panel of people involved in various aspects of prison arts/drama programs for rehabilitation. It was fascinating to listen to people speak passionately on such an interesting subject, and one of the panelists was a former inmate who had spent 25 years (half his life!) in a maximum security facility and had participated in the program as part of his rehabilitation--his "change" as he called it. He was a captivating speaker and what he said was incredibly moving...

The interesting revelation, however, was in regards to my professor. Once the panel was opened up to questions, one question was directed towards him (as he is also actively involved in the program). I heard about 2 sentences of what he said and then my eyes glazed over and I drifted off into a fairly involved fantasy about Maybe Crush (who happened to be sitting right next to me at the time). When he had finished speaking, it took several minutes for me to snap back into reality and re-engage with what the other panelists were saying.

And there you have it. The man is brilliant and has done wonderful things--but his voice puts me to sleep.

Perhaps it would be wise to keep him off my schedule next semester.

Phew!

A few minutes ago I was straightening up and realized it would be a good idea to put my leftover pizza in the fridge. So I walk into the kitchen and... no pizza.

Hmmmm, this is odd... I thought. Where could it have gone?

I wandered back to the livingroom, thinking maybe I'd taken the box out with me while I was watching TV, but no. Not there.

I went back to the kitchen and looked on the floor because, you know, it's totally possible that I missed a huge blue pizza box featuring a picture of Spiderman lying on the floor of my tiny kitchen. But no, not there either.

By now I had become somewhat alarmed. Had a crazy cat burglar with questionable priorities crept into the apartment and passed over my laptop and digital camera in favor of two-thirds of a Papa John's pizza while I sat in the other room watching Gossip Girl, completely oblivious?

I pondered this possibility for several seconds before deeming it irrational. However, this still didn't change the fact that I was short one pizza.

Just as panic was about to set in, I remembered: I had put the box in the oven to keep the pizza warm in case I wanted more.

Phew.

Shows you where my head is at.


Anyway, hello blogland! I'm back!

The past week has been positively crazy, what with work, SCHOOL, and the time required to create my kickass Halloween costume, I've barely had time to blink, let alone eat. Or sleep. Or blog.

It was, however, so totally worth it. At least on the Halloween front:



Oh yes, I am awesome.

And now, rather than re-hash the past several days in minute detail (because, let's face it, that would be boring), here are some highlights:

1. "The Death of Astroland" Halloween party in Red Hook, where the above photo was taken. Really cool venue with lots of fun Astroland style stuff added in. A paintball "Shoot the Freak" booth with cardboard representations of P-Diddy, Dr. Phil, Dane Cook, Jar Jar Binks, and the like, not to mention homemade ski-ball and a ball pit. Yes, a ball pit! Nothing like drunk adults in costumes surrounded by loads of plastic balls.

2. I lost my cell phone in the fucking ball pit. Yes, I'm an idiot. However, someone on the cleaning crew found it and my friend K forgot that I'd lost it and texted me, leading the person who found it to text him back. Because K is awesome (and has a motorcycle), he rode down to Red Hook and got my phone for me. I love my friends.

3. Friday Night was freaking awesome, but difficult to explain. Suffice it to say that it was Halloween fabulosity, and hopefully soon I will find some pictures on Flickr. There were lots of pictures.

4. I was out on the fire escape a few moments ago and I heard geese! I didn't know they migrated over NYC, but the sound made me happy and made me think of fall back home. I like geese.

5. Another 14 hours of class. Phew!! One more weekend and it's all over. Part of our final days is a group project, and Maybe Crush is in my group, woohoo! I do fear, however, that I might be slipping into the "Friend Zone" (oh yes, it's not only the men who can land there...), especially considering that one of the girls in my group made the comment "aw, it's so cute, you two are totally BFF." Not that being friends would be a bad thing, per se. He is totally awesome, which is a quality I prize in my friends. But I know from experience that being insanely attracted to your male friends can cause a whole world of frustration.

6. I wonder how I would go about tracking down the cute artist boy who loved my costume at the party on Sat? Only talked to him for a few minutes and never caught his name, but he was a cutie.

7. This week's Grey's Anatomy? LOVE!!

8. Woke up at freaking 5:00AM on Friday (and left my house at 6:30AM) to attend an arts education conference up by Columbia. Oh yeah, and I'd only had 4 hours sleep. While some of my workshops were a bit dull, others were interesting and I met some good people. Not quite the networking extravaganza I'd expected, but then again I totally suck at networking anyway.

9. Shit, I really should journal from this weekend's classes. Oh, wait, that's not a highlight... ummm...

10. Pinkberry. I finally caved and tried it... and I'm thinking there may be something to Maybe Crush's assertion that they lace that stuff with crack (he refuses to try it) because it is AWESOME.

11. Airborne. Aside from helping you avoid catching the office plague, I've discovered two more uses for this carbonated wonder. First, it's a great pick-me-up if you find yourself dragging in the middle of the day. Like, say, falling asleep during a workshop at an Arts Ed conference after only 4 hours sleep... for example. All those vitamins give you a nice little boost. Second, it's good for hangovers (and tastes way better than Alka-Seltzer).

12. Superkitty caught another mouse! I'm just glad I felt inclined to glance under the diningroom table or it might have started to smell.

13. Candy Corn. A big fat bag of it sitting on my coffee table. I heart candy corn.

14. Sleep. Possibly accompanied by more dreams about Maybe Crush (who has been making appearances in my unconscious hours with increasing frequency), though at this juncture I would settle for 8 hours uninterrupted by a whining kitty.

After the week I've had, I really don't think that's asking too much. Whaddaya say Universe? Help a girl out?

*Warm Fuzzies*

Awww.... y'all are such lovely blogfriends. Thanks for the words of support as I've been all inexplicably morose for the past few days.

I am feeling much more upbeat today for numerous reasons. I will start with those that are non crush-related.

First off, I learned today that I definitely got into the 2 week Winter session course that I wanted to take... IN UGANDA!! It is an amazing opportunity and I'll get to check off another continent from my "I will set foot on every continent before I die, yes even Antarctica" list. I've been saving my pennies since I applied, now I just get to figure out the mechanics of saving the remaining $900 or so of the insanely expensive airfare.

Next, I looked hot today. Tuesday is one of the few days that I don't have to get dirty or run around in class, so it's the day I wear my Cute Clothes. Thank you H&M, today you made me look fabulous.

Also, I got the dreaded research paper back, aaaaand.... I got an A! Woohoo! Perfectionism totally paid off.


Okay, and on the Maybe Crush front... Of course I saw him today (because there's only one class we don't have together, which I saw him before he went into because I am usually sitting in the lobby of that building doing homework at the last minute) and the signs were promising.

He apologized that he keeps forgetting to bring the CDs, but said he got my email. There may or may not have been a glint in his eye when he said it.

Our class has been doing group presentations throughout the semester and his group presented today. As part of the presentation he did a monologue excerpted from one of our readings and *damn* was it good!! Good acting is such a turn-on for me... he's up there spewing misogyny and all I wanted to do was pounce on him. Yum.

Twice during class I caught him looking at me when somebody said something ridiculous, at which point we shared a knowing and/or bemused look across the room. (Note: he was looking at me!)

Aaaand finally we walked to the train together as usual. There may or may not have been a few seconds of tension before we said goodbye--I am totally willing to chalk that one up to my imagination.

So there you have it, giddy Froggy is back.

I do think you ladies have a point--that perhaps my seeing him ALL THE TIME and therefore having no time for other crushes is making this one crazier than usual. It's possible. Then I consider how long it's been since I've met any crushworthy man. Large though it may be, there is a dearth of attractive, eligible, single men in NYC. Therefore the possibility of my finding another crush--even if I did have time--is fairly slim.

Hey, you never know... it could go both ways! Perhaps seeing me all the time will have the same effect on him...

Come on, a gal can dream, right? :)

For now I am playing the game, as much as I hate to do it. History has shown that when I make the first move it never goes well (or I get some action and then never hear from them again). I will wait for him to make the first move even if it kills me.

Twitchy McTwitcherson

Last night in class, sometime around 6:30pm, my right eyebrow inexplicably began to twitch.

That was nearly 17 hours ago, and it still hasn't stopped! It is driving me CRAZY!!

My google search for "eyebrow twitch" turned up everything from stress (yeah, I got some o' that) to Tourrette's (ooooh! swearing with impunity!) to brain damage (errr... no, I got nothin'). I think it's just my body toying with me, as it is occassionally wont to do, but damn is it annoying!

Anybody else had this happen? Any suggestions as to how to make it go away? I tried staring it down in the mirror, but to no avail...


On a lighter note, thanks for the words of encouragement where Maybe Crush is concerned. Yesterday on my way to class I started inventing worst-case-scenarios in my head (he's gay, he has a heretofore unmentioned girlfriend, I declare myself and he looks at me like I'm nuts, etc), which is always a sign I've got it bad.

The fact that I dreamt about him the other night and it only garnered a PG-13 rating (as opposed to NC-17) is another sign. I am in serious trouble here.

Argh! I hate playing this stupid does-he-doesn't-he? game. Yet I can't bring myself to just come out and say something... First, there's that whole pesky overwhelming-fear-of-rejection thing; then there's the whole don't-want-to-scare-him-off thing.

Awhile back I was talking to an old friend from college and lamenting my perpetual singledom when he dropped this bombshell: "Well, you know, you are kind of intimidating."

What? All 5'2" of me? Intimidating? How the hell does that work?

He went on to explain that I come across as a strong, confident woman who knows what she wants (ha! if he could only read my blog...). And apparently that is scary.

Great.

So on one hand I would like to have more faith in Maybe Crush than that. I would like to think he wouldn't be frightened off by the direct approach.

But past experience indicates otherwise, and I don't want to risk it. Past experience has also indicated that I am not always adept at reading the signs, so he may not be interested in me at all...

And still more confusing, past experience also indicates that I am difficult to read, even when I think I'm wearing my heart on my sleeve. I was talking to The English Ex awhile back and made some sort of comment about how he totally trampled my heart when he left me. His response? "Really? I'm sorry, I didn't know, you always seemed so aloof about everything..."

So there you go. Even though I think I'm practically throwing myself at Maybe Crush, he really could be totally clueless!

Oh, what happened to the days where I could just send a friend over to say "Froggy likes you. Do you like her?" or write him a "Do you like me? Yes or No (circle one)" note? Really, relationships were so much simpler when we were 12.

I'm half-tempted to admit my crush to Slater and see what his take on the situation is. Gay men are generally perceptive about these things--at the very least he could alleviate (or--yikes!--confirm) the "he's gay" fear. But admitting my crush to someone who actually knows my crush is not a step I am yet willing (or desperate enough) to take.

I'm trying to convince myself to just go with the flow. Enjoy my little infatuation and see where, if anywhere, it may lead.

Anyone out there know exactly how I would go about doing that? It's virgin territory for me. I'm open to suggestions...

F'ing iPhone

So exactly how many television networks has Apple bought out?

I was catching up on my DVR this evening, and as I was watching Moonlight I noticed that several characters had iPhones. I also noticed the same thing in the one episode of Journeyman that I watched. I mean, I guess it's no different than watching everyone drink from giant Coca Cola glasses on American Idol, but still... it seems that product placement is becoming as obtrusive as advertising.

I'd be more eloquent on the fact, but after spending a total of 14 hours in class over the past two days, I think my brain has reached its capacity for processing intellectual thought.

So what say you readers? Just how many TV iPhone spottings have there been?


As for your daily Maybe Crush update... *sigh*. The more time I spend with this boy, the more I like him. My cynical self is totally convinced that it will all end in tears and disappointment as usual, but I can't help hoping. A few moments ago while smoking on the fire escape I almost wished on a star... then I realized it was a plane. Damnit. That's one thing about NYC... I miss stars.

However, I did send him an email this evening. I asked him to bring those CDs he offered, and then threw in something like "maybe I'll even offer to buy you a drink sometime for your trouble." Vague, I know, but honestly I'm terrified of being any more direct than that.

We're about to enter the "sphere of influence" of that full moon that supposedly will bring about positive occurrences in my love life. Is it odd that I base my hope more on my horoscope than on actual fact? I guess that's because if it doesn't go my way, I can always say "well it was just a stupid horoscope" as opposed to "it was just my poor judgment."

Like I said... all ends in tears...

Anyway, that's the prognosis for the evening. Sorry so grim, I think I'm just tired.

So, self-preservation and hope. Can the two really co-exist?

I hope so.

Top Five

Right now I really should be journaling today's 8 hour class and doing reading for tomorrow's 6 hour installment; but after class I went out to dinner with my friend K and her fiancé, and now I am totally stuffed and all the blood has drained from my head to my stomach (hey, it's scientific fact, I swear!), so here are the top five things I would rather be doing, in order from least plausible to most plausible:

1. Sipping a glass of red wine in the Piazza San Marco in Venice.
2. Sleeping--without an alarm set to wake me up.
3. Curling up on the couch with Maybe Crush, a bottle of Irish whiskey, and a movie.
4. Curling up on the couch with my kitty and a good book.
5. Blogging to you, oh few but faithful readers. (Awww....)

Obviously #5 is more than plausible, it's happening. I fully believe in setting at least one obtainable goal. And as expected--being that we spent another 8 hours together today--here is your daily Maybe Crush update/behavioral analysis.

There was much eye contact and smiling throughout class today. And at least once I wasn't the initiator--at least, I don't think so. I spend so much time surreptitiously looking at him that it's difficult to tell.

He, like me, packed his lunch today, so we hung out during the lunch break. There were other folks around of course, but he finished eating before I did, yet--without saying anything--waited until I was done and we went downstairs to smoke together.

After class he made it down to the street before I did, but when I got there he was standing outside by the doors rolling a cigarette. Is it possible he was waiting for me? Or is that wishful thinking? Either way we walked to the train together and chatted outside while we both finished smoking. Then he went home and I went off to meet K.

He forgot to bring the CDs for me, but at least remembered that he'd said he would--so it's a 50/50.

And that's what I've got. I think it's pretty good :)

Does this mean I have to go do homework now? Damn. Overstuffedness aside, I am totally braindead. I went to bed fairly early last night, but I had the freaking weirdest dreams, making my sleep sporadic and restless. Check it out:

At first the dream involved fortifying a small town (where I lived in the dream) against what were essentially the evil Transformers. WTF? Then it phased from being the Transformers to just some variety of "bad guys."

And there was a beach.

And we were chopping down a tree??

And I kept chasing my cat around trying to get her away from the bad guys--like she'd understand me when I kept telling her to go hide and wait for me, because of course we were planning some sort of escape.

I also kept switching between different characters--one of which was more or less me, and the other who I think was supposed to be the Shia LeBouf character from the Transformers movie (which I've never freaking seen!!)--and his name was Lance but spelled in some really ridiculous way that didn't even contain the same letters, let alone look like it should be pronounced "Lance"...

And there you have it. I am totally insane.

But I still got to walk to the subway with my crush after class, so who knows? Maybe insane looks good on me.

Reader Poll: Pure Evil or Marketing Genius?

Extreme Close Up



Spotted: Astor Place K-Mart, last Tuesday, on the way up the escalator. I was so intrigued/appalled that I had to go back down and take a picture.


PS - Totally walked to the train w/ Maybe Crush again on Thurs. Yay! Will be seeing him in class all weekend long... bestill my beating heart...

PPS - I LOVE the Froggy's-Bar-Story Contest idea! Now I just need to come up with a prize... hmmmm....

"indicators that a painfully shy man is falling in love with a woman"

That is one of the search terms that landed someone on my blog; and while I'd hardly call Maybe Crush "painfully shy," it still gave me a warm fuzzy feeling, like the cosmos was trying to tell me something...

Or that could just be my sleep-deprived brain. Last night I was a very Bad Frog.

As planned I met up with A for early drinks, both of us planning to catch up for awhile and then be home (and reasonably sober) by 10:00.

Right.

I should explain that A and I often make these types of plans, and very rarely do they come to fruition with the level of responsibility intended. In brief: we tend to get drunk together. Often.

That being said, in the course of our catching-up we started talking about blogs that we read (CB- Where are you?!?!) and I let slip that I have a "secret blog." She was, of course, intrigued, and eventually as the conversation wore on (and I got drunker) I caved and told her the name of my blog.

Her reaction?

"Oh my god, that's YOU?? I love that blog!"

*smile*

Of course, now this means I can't say bad things about her, because she might be reading. Damn.

(I kid, I kid!)

But back to my being a very Bad Frog, just at the point in the evening when I should have been finishing up my last beer, saying farewell to A and our friend W who had also come by, and heading home... Drama (note the capital D) proceeded to ensue. And ensue. The result of which, which I still can't quite wrap my head around, was our being kicked out of the bar.

Say what now?

As briefly as possible: another girl, we'll call her Crazy--who, I didn't realize until halfway through the Drama, briefly dated/hooked-up-with W--decided to accuse A of saying some very unpleasant things that she certainly did not say. Accused her of saying them through the door of the single-occupancy bathroom. So apparently A has x-ray vision and can see through walls, because the insult included something about Crazy's outfit.

The kicker is that the last person at our table to go to the bathroom was me, and this girl was coming out as I went in and I told her I liked her outfit. After that, nobody from our table went inside. At all.

So A is in the backyard crying because she's been accused of saying awful things, I'm inside politely trying to explain to Crazy that there is no way my friend said anything to her, perhaps she was mistaken... but Crazy insisted it was A. (Gee, could it perhaps be because A is W's ex-girlfriend-come-bff and Crazy is jealous? Noooo... couldn't be...). So I'm trying to play peacemaker, I have not raised my voice, Crazy is the one yelling at me, and somehow *I* get kicked out of the bar?

I had never been kicked out of a bar before. I would have at least liked to have done something deserving of it. Hmmm... perhaps I'll tell people that I broke a barstool over Crazy's head first. That would at least make sense.

In the end, instead of going home like a Good Frog, I trooped off to another bar with A to help calm her down. Which is why I'm walking around in a daze. I had better snap out of it, however, as I have class AND rehearsal tonight.

And rehearsal means... Maybe Crush!

Thank you all for giving me license to babble about every detail of his behavior incessantly. Hopefully you won't regret it.

In the course of email conversation about the DVD he has now offered to loan me some CDs as well. Hmmm... perhaps if I can enmass enough of his personal property, I can ransom it for a date. Not exactly romantic, but desperate times...

I kid, of course.

But I'm totally going to check my email again to see if he wrote me back :)

Strange Days...

I know it's only half over, but it's been a weird week.

I have been cast in two different shows... as a monster, and a Chinese guard in a Tibetan prison (note: I am not even remotely Asian). Neither are roles I would ever have envisioned for myself. Have I been sending out some sort of dark vibe lately?

The doctor's bill issue has been resolved. When nobody had returned my call by 12:00, I called them back. I don't really understand what the woman said, but it concluded with her telling me that the account has been closed and I don't owe them anything. "Then why the hell did you send me a f***ing BILL?!?" I wanted to shout. Then I thought the better of it and politely got off the phone before she could change her mind.

When I went out to get my lunch, I walked through a cloud of clove cigarette smoke. I love, love, LOVE that smell, and it always makes me particularly nostalgic as I smoked cloves like a fiend for my first 3 years in college (even though they were illegal in Maryland, so we had to go across the border to PA to buy them).

I was basking in the happy memories brought on by this scent as I stepped into the elevator... followed promptly by a man who smelled like my grandma's basement. That's a whole 'nother bucket 'o' nostalgia, and I must say I enjoyed the previous one much more.

(Not that there's anything wrong with my grandma. Or her basement. But the latter didn't smell all that great.)

On the giddy-girly end of the spectrum, after my email Maybe Crush did indeed bring the DVD for me, hooray! We also stood around after class smoking (what can I say? stress has a way of bringing back bad habits), and then walked together until I got to my train. It's not exactly a sunset stroll through the park (well, we did walk through a park, but it was already dark), but I can't help thinking that if he didn't want to talk to me, he could have parted ways outside the building. He didn't have to walk with me... right? Right?

Seriously, this crush is going to be the death of me. Please, let me know if y'all are sick of hearing about it. I know I'm a big dork :)

So that's why I was in a good mood when I got home--before the whole doctor's bill incident. To calm myself down I had a beer and watched the DVD. It was freaking awesome, so of course I emailed him about it. There have now been a few emails exchanged on the subject. Is it silly that I take this as a good sign?

Sorry kids, I'm seeking validation here. I haven't been this far in crush in a loooong time. I was despairing that there were any straight, single, attractive men even left in this city... of course I go off the deep end when I finally find one.

Le double sigh.

Am hopefully meeting my friend A for an early drink sometime this evening. I've been so busy between school and work that I haven't seen any of my "old" friends in nearly a month! With the evil paper finally over with, I figured I deserve a night off from school work. All work and no play makes Froggy a very dull girl.

Or at the very least, a cranky one.

Ahem, Your Poor Bookkeeping? Not My Problem!

Damnit, I was in such a good mood when I got home tonight, and then...

I opened my mail.

I was a bit curious when I saw that the envelope was from my former gynecologists office, with whom I have unfortunately had to part ways. It's a clinic at a very large (and, I might add, somewhat prestigious) hospital. Before you get all jealous, note the word "clinic," ie- people who have no money. I was poor enough to qualify for Medicaid for several years, and so was graced with their heretofore excellent services. However, Medicaid is the only insurance they accept, so now that I've joined the ranks of the HMO-insured I am shit out of luck.

Anyhoo, I was a bit perplexed, so I open it up and it is a bill for FOUR HUNDRED AND FIFTY SEVEN DOLLARS! What the fuck?!? I haven't even BEEN to that doctor in nearly a year. I know, because I was supposed to make an appointment to see them in August and I never got around to it (Bad Froggy), so I haven't been there since sometime in 2006.

I read further.

The bill is for a service rendered on August 28, 2006.

Apparently they waited until August 18, 2007 to bill my insurance, at which time I was no longer covered under Medicaid.

Who the hell waits a YEAR to charge someone's insurance? And how does this become MY problem? What the FUCK??

And the kicker? The doctor's name at the bottom is someone who's never been near my nether regions! I have no idea who this man is, but I know damned well he never removed portions of my cervix with a very long needle!

Sorry, too graphic? I apologize.

Their voice mail already got an earful. Woe to the accountant who returns my call tomorrow.

Woe indeed.

In No Particular Order...

It's my 50th post! Woohoo! I feel like this deserves a cookie or something.

Anyway, musings for the day...

I am so suggestible
Last night at the end of "Heroes" (don't worry, no spoilers for those who haven't watched it yet), there was a shot that included a very large mexican cockroach. "Oh Great," I thought, "Now I'm totally going to have cockroach dreams..."

I meant this as a joke. A mere jest. But guess what I dreamt about.

That's right. Fucking SUPER-ROACH! Who, I might add, was about 4 inches long, had feelers on his head that were several feet long, and reared up menacingly on his hind legs and hissed at me. Hissed. I know there are cockroaches that actually do that, but really, do I have to dream about them??

A fashion recant
Ever since the stretch-pant came barging back onto the fashion horizon last fall, I have operated on a staunch no-leggings policy. Haunted by visions of cellulite encrusted legs esconced in flourescent pink (Dear Fashion Industry, If the spandex content of a particular item is above 50%, it should not be manufactured above a size Medium, and certainly not in any size that contains an X. Love, Froggy), I firmly held to my belief that what happened in the 80s should stay in the 80s.

And then it happened.

I went shopping and much to my delight the styles of the 60s and 70s that I so-very-much adore are back! Cute little A-line dressed and jumpers abound, hoorah! But there in the dressing room I took stock of the situation. It seems that the hemlines of the 60s and 70s have returned as well; and while I had no problem jumping around in my mom's derriere-skimming leftovers when I was 16, the thought of doing so now left me thinking "ew... bare ass on subway seat..." Shudder. Yet there they were, the dresses of my dreams... so cute, so femenine, so... short.

And so I caved. I bought leggings. Two pairs, one black and one brown. I fought the mounting wave of shame and scurried home to hide them in the "miscellenous apparel" drawer with my old leotards and dance briefs and tried to put the whole ordeal behind me.

Until this morning.

And now, here I sit, in the world's cutest A-line, fair isle sweater dress, my adored knee-high faux shearling boots, and... brown leggings.

And I am so goddamned COMFORTABLE.

Leggings, I take it all back. Every word. I heart you. You are awesome.

No DVD for Froggy
Maybe Crush did not bring the movie yesterday. However, he was a member of the somewhat roudy party sitting round the same table tossing out snarky comments whilst covered in paper mache. Which meant I got to watch him laugh. God damn he's adorable when he laughs.

Le sigh.

I did cave and email him last night reminding him about it. I really do want to watch the DVD, so it's not entirely a ploy to increase interaction...

It doesn't help that my horoscope is totally taunting me! Here's what I awoke to this morning: "During this period, if you are searching for the ideal partner you could start a new relationship with somebody you like a lot and you could find a perfect personality match."

Okay, seriously horoscope people, are you trying to give me an aneurism?? Between this and the upcoming full moon which Susan Miller says should do fabulous things for my love life... argh! The suspense is killing me!!

Halloween... Your Ass is Mine!
I love halloween. Truly truly LOVE. I usually go all out and design and sew a fabulous costume so that I can grin and look smug when people say "You MADE that??!"... but this year the inspiration just wasn't there.

For the past 4 years, my costumes have all revolved around my hair. Whether it was a new haircut or an awesome fake ponytail, the hair was always the inspiration. And while I positively adore my current haircut (which, like much of my new wardrobe, is so 70s-fabulous), it didn't speak to me on the halloween costume level.

Also, with school being as insane as it is right now, when would I have time to sew?

I had resolved to simply recycle an old costume and buy a wig to provide the appropriate hairstyle... and then, last night, inspiration crashed down upon me like a piano from a 4th story window. I have no idea where it came from, but there it was. The most gender-bendingly fabulous costume in the world--and one that I've always wanted to do! (I'll give you a hint: it involves false eyelashes and a codpiece).

And the best part?

I have the perfect haircut.

Damnit...

Do you ever get the uncontrollable urge to pop a zit while at work, even though you know it will make your skin a blotchy (and possibly bloody) mess, and it will be blatantly obvious to anyone you pass what you've been up to--particularly your boss, who you of course run into as soon as you leave the bathroom--but you do it anyway and if course your face now is a blotchy (and bloody) mess, and you curse yourself for leaving your makeup at your desk because now you have to walk across the entire office with a huge red splotch on your face before you can get back to the saftey of your workspace and attempt to mask the damages knowing that the thing would have been much less noticible had you just left it the hell alone...?

No?

Just me?

Damnit.

Weekend? What Weekend?

So the answer to Friday's "I wonder what time I will start writing my paper" turned out to be....

5pm on Saturday.

I know. I know.

Friday night I settled in to get to work... and proceeded to stare blankly at the computer screen for the next two hours. Half-formed ideas would flit into my head, yet each time I attempted to synthesize them into coherent sentences they would flit right back out again. After 2 hours of sporadic, frustrated typing I was left with two paragraphs of complete garbage, including the sentence: "Critical theory is fucking complex." Right. So I decided to pack it in and try for an early start on Saturday.

Saturday I awoke at a reasonable hour and while drinking my coffee it occurred to me that I would not have another free weekend day until the second weekend in November (if I'm lucky), and as such it would probably behoove me to do laundry while I had the chance.

Note: Laundromat is empty at 11:30am on a Saturday. Excellent time to do laundry.

Once laundry was done I once again sat in front of my computer and while the ideas in my head were somewhat more well-formed than those of the previous evening, I was still producing absolute drivel. Rather than beat my head against the keyboard in frustration (though the prospect was awfully tempting), I opted to call my parents for a pep talk.

They performed their given task marvelously, as well as providing a welcome distraction and a sounding board for my bitching about the fact that our topic was so ridiculously broad one could write a dissertation on it, yet we were confined to 7 measly pages--and, as good parents will do, around 4:30 they told me to stop screwing around and go write the damned paper already.

So I did. As predicted, once I actually managed to start writing, it took just under 3 hours. Cake really. Don't get me wrong, it still needs a bit of editing, but the bulk of the work is done. Hooray!

Today was another installment of my 8 hour class--and another 8 hours in the same room with Maybe Crush (who, incidentally, also stared blankly at his computer screen for hours while attempting to write the same paper), which proved to be every bit as distracting as the last 8 hours. Some day soon I am going to totally lose control and just pounce on the boy, I swear.

However progress is slowly being made. Today there was conversation! Both in a group and between the two of us. And he offered to loan me a DVD. Now the question is: will he remember said offer and bring it to class tomorrow? (Damn I have a lot of classes with this boy!) And if he remembers, is it because he was thinking about me, or just because he has a good memory?

Damn, sometimes being a girl is annoying.

I occasionally wonder what would happen if he somehow managed to stumble across this blog. While I've kept identifying info to a minimum, he'd probably look at some of this and think "hmmm... this sounds awfully familiar..." Gad, how embarrassing would that be?? And did I just say "gad"? Yikes...

I am doing my best to enjoy the tortuously slow progress of my infatuation, for as my friend B would say: I am in deep smit. Yet the questions remains, which of the three potential outcomes seems most likely?

a. I will eventually lose interest;
b. I will eventually express my interest and be awkwardly rejected; or
c. I will eventually express my interest and learn (much to my surprise) that it is reciprocated.

Considering my personal history, I think either a or b is more likely to occur; but I'm holding out hope for c. Really, who says you can't be a cynic and a romantic at the same time?

Hello, e-surance? I'd like to file a claim...

Having found parking tickets to be ineffectual, the New York City Department of Transportation has taken a new, hard-line approach to hydrant-related violations...



Spotted on Kosciusko St. this afternoon while doing laundry.

Friday I Wonders...

I wonder why I don't stop and take pictures more often...

I wonder why every cyclist south of 14th Street insisted on riding on the sidewalk this afternoon and nearly running me over! Attention Jackasses: NYC law states that if you are over the age of 12 it is illegal to ride on the sidewalk, so get the fuck off! And while we're at it, where is your freaking helmet? Ugh, you people are giving legit riders a bad name...

I wonder why Maybe Crush missed rehearsal last night.

I wonder how many times I am going to let the wind slam my hallway door--causing me to jump out of my skin--before I hunt down something with which to make a doorstop.

(there, I fixed it)

I wonder if the apple crumble currently baking in the oven is going to taste as good as it smells.

I wonder what time it will be when I actually start working on my paper tonight.

I wonder what on earth my cat could possibly have to whine about. Really kitty, it's getting old.

Hmmmm... I wonder if she's disturbed by the cats outside who are either having sex or killing each other--it's rather difficult to tell the difference.

I wonder how many more beautiful days like today we will have before winter settles upon the city like the Iron Fist of Doom.

I wonder if I will actually be able to start my doctorate next year, or if I will have to wait.

I wonder if the weather will stay dry enough for me to wear my fabulous new suede boots anytime soon.

And finally... considering the bass that's been pounding up through my floor for the past two nights, I wonder when my downstairs neighbor is going to figure out that her boyfriend is gay.

Blogcrastination or, Variations on a Theme

I have a paper to write.

I do not want to write said paper.

I have to write said paper.

Just perhaps not at this very minute.

(and thus it begins...)



Being that I do very little actual work while I am at work, I have noticed that there seem to be 2 themes cropping up frequently in Blogville these days: heartbreak and body issues (my my, aren't we a cheery bunch?). Being that I haven't been in love in nearly 9 years, I can't offer much on the deep-emotional-trauma front; but in those nearly 9 nears I have definitely had a body. And issues. Though not necessarily in that order. And I've made a few observations that I would like to share with you.

1. Every woman, no matter who she is, no matter what she says, has something she doesn't like about her body.
Before it made her famous, I'm willing to bet Cindy Crawford hated that mole. Kids probably teased Kate Moss for being built like a bean pole. And your friend with the to-die-for cleavage that you cannot help but ogle whenever she wears a low-cut top? She's probably swearing up a storm and wishing for your A-cups when the PMS fairy makes them so sore she can't walk down stairs without wincing. The bottom line: everybody's got something. Which leads us to...

2. Every woman, no matter what she says, has something she loves about her body.
And quite often, I'm willing to bet that some of the things we bitch about are some of the things we love best. You'll often hear me complain that buying jeans is a royal pain in the ass because of the ratio of my hips/bum to the rest of me; but I wouldn't trade my booty for anybody's! Like most of my relationships, it's love-hate. But when I'm trying on an outfit for a must-look-sexy occasion, what's the first thing I check out in the mirror? You guessed it. So the next time you're feeling crappy about your body, focus in on that one thing you adore and remember...

3. Skinny girls are just as insecure as everyone else.
Yes, even your friend who wears a size 2 (despite the fact that she can scarf down a plate of Belgian waffles like a USC linebacker) has "fat days." So the next time your waif-like companion is moaning about her "gut," resist the urge to roll your eyes and whine "Oh my god, you are so not fat! Look at me! I would kill to look like you," and unless she is a known anorexic/bullemic/body-dysmorphic (or just a pathological comment-fisher), cut the girl some slack. After all, invalidating her insecurities by telling her she's wrong? Yeah, not helping. Bite your tongue and remember this moment the next time she quietly listens to you complain about your thighs/hips/boobs/etc.

And finally...

4. Confidence is HOT.
I don't think I look good naked. I know I look good naked. And that, my friends, makes ALL the difference in the world! Sure I've got cellulite and my abs aren't as rock solid as they were when I was 15 and oh my god how do you get stretch marks on A CUP BOOBS!?!?, but so far as I'm concerned, when the clothes come off I am Angelina freaking Jolie. Only, you know, without the accessory children and that whole Billy Bob Thornton thing. Because, really, if a guy (or girl--no discrimination here) is lucky enough to be in the same room with you while you are naked, he/she is much more likely to be thinking "Awesome! I'm getting laid!!" than "hmmm, you know, her butt jiggles when she walks..." Not to mention that, unless you are fortunate enough to be bedding Brad Pitt (or Angelina Jolie), chances are that other person isn't anywhere close to perfect either. So why would they be zoning in on your flaws, which would only make them more likely to dwell on their own?


In the end, we are all human; and humans are flawed creatures. Yet, if we can't learn to love our bodies, we can at least learn to support one another through our dysfunctional relationships. Because unlike a boyfriend or a bad job, you are stuck with your body for life. If you can't learn to love its flaws, you can at least learn to tolerate them with a smile.

And Häagen-Dazs.

Stand clear of the closing doors please..

Just a quick note to say that all New York City dwellers should check out this post, courtesy of the East Village Idiot.

I just discovered his blog during this oh-so-productive afternoon at work and very nearly burst a sinus trying not to laugh out loud at this post.

Enjoy, and Happy Wednesday!

Small Victories

Success! Yesterday evening I actually sustained a few minutes of conversation with Maybe Crush. There were other people involved as well, but that is fine. The important part is: The boy speaks!

And in the course of said conversation, the phrase "my girlfriend at the time" was uttered. Hence, a.) the boy appears to be single, and b.) the boy appears to be straight. Excellent.


I'm trying to ride high on this small victory as I sit here at my desk listening to the stupid freaking fountain in my workspace that makes me have to pee even more often than usual trickling away behind me, and contemplate the myriad other places I would rather be at this very moment.

At home cozy in my bed, or on the couch with my kitty and a corny romance movie jumps instantly to mind; followed closely by a warm beach somewhere in Central America, or hiking the mountains on the northern coast of Italy, or sitting in the diningroom of my parents' house playing Trivial Pursuit in between snarky comments and shots of Jameson.

In the end, days like today make me miss England. Whenever the weather is grey and gloomy it always makes me think back on the time I spent in the UK. Not that I actually miss the fact that it was always cloudy, and some sort of precipitation fell from the sky 19 days out of 20; yet here I am thinking it would be nice to be curled up in the prison-cell-like room of my grotty student flat with a mug of Heinz Weight Watchers Tomato Soup (you can't find it here and it's the best tomato soup ever), or sitting in the dirty kitchen with a cup of coffee, chain smoking and teaching the Spaniards how to swear in English.

Gah, I hated that kitchen. Yet right now in my mind I can smell it and it doesn't seem so bad at all.

The UK, and the city of Exeter in particular, will always occupy a special place in my mind and memories. The conditions--weather, living, personal--may not always have been perfect, but that year was one of the best in my life. I don't think I'd be the person I am today had I not gone. I discovered a lot about myself, being so far from my friends and family and all that was familiar. I grew up a lot.

And sure, I never managed to stay dry for an entire day, I was always broke, and I desperately missed real peanut butter; but I wouldn't trade a single minute of it. Not the minute I spent jumping up and down on the army of ants that had invaded my room in the middle of the night, or the one when my boyfriend/best-friend told me he was leaving me, or the many, many sleepless minutes induced by the demon known as jet lag.

Because without those minutes I wouldn't have friends spread across the globe--amazing friends that I would do anything to see again this very minute--or memories that can make me smile on the gloomiest of days, or the confidence that comes from knowing with absolute certainty that I can be on my own in a strage place and be just fine. Maybe not always happy, maybe not perfect, but most definitely OK.

At that's worth any scars I took away. That's not a small victory at all.

Remember the bit about getting my shit together?

Well clearly yesterday was not the day.

I slept late and awoke to a text message from M--a notoriously flaky friend from back home. He's recently taken on a job as a courier and was going to be driving into Manhattan. I haven't seen him in well over a year, so I texted back that I had a lot of school work to do, but if he wanted to swing by I could give him an hour or so and we could sit on the stoop and have coffee or whatnot.

In the interim between this agreement and his arrival, I did my yoga DVD for the first time in ages (ouch! I used to think this thing was easy!), took a shower, and got started on the mass of reading I needed to do.

Thanks to the glories of GPS, M made it here all by himself without need for directions from me. A good thing for all involved, as the only time I've taken a car from Manhattan to my current apartment it's been a taxi and I've been drunk (and, frankly, quite amazed to find myself at home the following morning), so my directions would have been vague at best.

The coffee shop was closed so we offered our custom to Dunkin' Donuts instead and wandered back to my stoop, where the promised 1 hour turned into something more like 4, until we were inside again and I looked at the clock and said "Shit! I've got to kick you out of here!" It was 5:30 and I had read all of about 7 pages. Yikes.

So did I buckle down to the school work as soon as he left? Of course not! I went to the grocery store, baked cookies (Snickerdoodles, yum!), and got dinner in the oven. Then I began reading.

I really need to rethink my game plan on this one.

I read until 10pm, and I have at least determined the topic for the paper due a week from today, but I had really hoped to have a draft written by the end of yesterday. Clearly, that did not happen. Granted, it's only a 7 pager, which I can easily bang out in a few hours, but still. I was trying to be responsible and NOT do everything at the last minute.

Also I have about 50 pages of reading to complete for tonight's class, which I will be doing in the 2 1/2 hours between work ending and class beginning. Fun!

I'm just angry at myself for blowing off my priorities. True, it was to see a friend that I haven't seen in ages, but then again, shouldn't some things be sacrificed in the name of my incredibly expensive education?

I'm just worried that I'm going to fuck all this up. It's something I've got a tendency to do.

Sunday Sunday Sunday...

It helps if you can imagine that title in a booming masculine voice with lots of reverb. Anyone who's ever lived in the sticks will get the reference to radio promos, usually involving monster trucks.

Anyhoo, had my first all-day weekend class today, and while getting up at 7:30am on a weekend isn't exactly my cup of tea, I've got a good feeling about this course. The professor is, as promised, thoroughly awesome, and the class seems like a good group of students. We delved into some interesting ideas about education today--the current state of affairs and the changes we'd like to see brought about--and there was definitely lots of interesting, well thought out commentary. Not a lot of people talking just to hear themselves speak. So I'll just have to deal with the early wake up call. Eh, it's only 5 weeks.

Oh, and did I mention that Maybe Crush is also in this class? Oh yes. I'm telling ya, I've got to either step up the game or get over it right quick, as 8 hours in a room with your crush is oh-so-very distracting! I swear, that boy is too damned adorable for his own good. Or mine.

Really though, I'm not sure what more a gal can do! Other than going out of my way to interact with him (often enough to signal interest, yet not so often as to appear creepy) and smiling pointedly whenever I catch his eye, today I picked a piece of fluff out of his hair, and later told him that clearly I was stalking him because we have so many classes together. He didn't appear to object to either. Agh! I so wanted to just leap across the table and make out with him, but somehow I think the other students might have objected. Damn.

So that about sums it up for me today. I need to sit down and process today's class for my journal (which is a decent chunk of our grade), but I am totally distracted. I was hoping that blogging would help, but that doesn't seem to be the case. I also have a million other school-related things that I need to accomplish within the span of this evening and tomorrow's blessed day off. I realized about half an hour ago that I haven't even made a dent in the reading due for Tuesday's class, and I also have to get started on a paper for the same.

I'm thinking that if the weather is nice tomorrow I'll head down to Prospect Park (or, barring that, the small park near my apartment) and try to get some work done. Being out of my house is clutch, as then I can't be distracted by things like cleaning. It is SO easy to justify not doing schoolwork when I'm doing something else that could be deemed productive (AER I know you hear me on this!). And the coffee shop, while convenient and cozy, has the temptation of wi-fi to drive me to distraction.

This current state of indisposition has me worried. In the past when I've fallen into this sort of rut of non-productivity, it has generally taken a rather large kick in the ass (usually in the form of a poor grade or strong reprimand) to serve as the necessary wake-up call and snap me out of it. However, at $1100+ per credit, I really can't afford even a minor catastrophe.

I'm not settling for less than a 4.0 in this program. I just need to find a way to make my drive match my ambitions.

How Many Miles...?

This morning I got up at the ungodly (for a Saturday) hour of 6:30am to head down to Brooklyn Heights and cheer on my friend K, who was walking in the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer. This dog was one of my compatriots in the early morning gloom, and was much fawned over by cheerers and walkers alike. He was remarkably sedate considering all the noise and activity.

I met A outside the subway station around 8:20, as the walkers were supposed to be passing the cheering station between 9am and 11am. For those of you non-New Yorkers, it was a pretty grey and foggy morning here. So much so that the Brooklyn Bridge (not to mention Manhattan) had completely disappeared!



It was so strange standing on the pier and looking at the churning river, knowing that technically Manhattan was on the other side, but all you could see was a wall of grey. Sort of like standing on the edge of the world.

The bridge (and the city) reappeared shortly thereafter, but it was eerie.

K didn't pass the cheering station until close to 10pm, so A and I were there for a little over an hour cheering on all the walkers who passed before her. Some marched solidly on, some clapped and cheered back, and some said "thank you"--to which my response could only be a smile or a "No, thank you."

It's such an excellent cause, and K raised over $2500 for breast cancer research. The least I could do was haul my ass out of bed before dawn to get down there and cheer for her and all the others who are walking something like 46 miles. I must say it gave me a warm fuzzy feeling.

But did not stop me from coming home and taking a 2 1/2 hour nap after A and I grabbed breakfast at a coffee shop by my house.

Other than that, not much excitement today. I did a ton of cleaning, so my livingroom is almost complete. There's still a few things out of place and when I went to motivate myself with the "Across the Universe" soundtrack I discovered that my 15 year old CD player seems to have finally bitten the dust. Damnit. Maybe I'll pop into Best Buy after class tomorrow.

Yes, Class. On a Sunday. You totally wish you were me, don't you?

Also, a $5 IKEA trash can has mysteriously gone missing from my apartment. Who the fuck steals a trash can?

Exciting life I lead, no? I know, I know, you can hardly keep up.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go check on my sweet potato fries.

Across the Universe

I took off early from work today to catch an early showing of "Across the Universe" at my favourite movie theatre and...

Wow.

Just. Wow.

It was absolutely fantastic.

Was it the greatest movie I've ever seen? No. Has it entered my top five? Oh I think it just might have done.

I can tell you one thing for certain: Jim Sturgess has just usurped the Number One slot on my fantasy list. Sorry Ryan Gosling. Go make a musical and come up with a sexy accent and then we'll talk. Maybe the two of you could fight for it. Mmmmm... now there's a picture...

I wish I could be more eloquent on the subject but really, oh my few but loyal readers, you should go see it for yourselves. It may not be for everyone, it's true, but...

If you like elaborately staged, visually stunning, colourful, fantastical, not-quite-linearly structured films; if you have the slightest interest in 60s counter culture; if you like the Beatles even a little bit... then you MUST go see this movie.

One thing I really enjoyed about this film was that there are lots of little subtleties that you can catch if you recognize them. I don't want to give away everything, but here's an example: There are two characters clearly modeled on Janis Joplin and Jimmy Hendrix, and towards the end there is a double of Janis's Jaguar parked on the street.

Though I was irked that the L.A. Times referred to Bono's cameo as Ken Kesey/Timothy Leary hybrid. Sorry LA Times, but that was all Kesey. He's the one who drove around the country in a giant painted school bus--named Further and piloted by a sledgehammer wielding Neal Cassady, often without the aid of breaks--and gave people kool aid laced with LSD. Timothy Leary, on the other hand, was the one with the secluded mountain retreat, and comes to us in the form of Eddie Izzard's fabulous Mr. Kite. Or did you miss the bit where he plainly said "Tune in. Turn On. Drop Out."?

Sorry, tangent. But that does bring up the excellent point that there were several notable celebrity cameos--with Bono pulling off a convincing American accent and surprisingly not annoying the shit out of me as he usually does--but the stars are all virtual unknowns. Evan Rachel Wood would be the closest to a "celebrity," but even she is fairly under the radar. She's not Lindsay Lohan (thank god). And they are all fabulous. Not a weak link in the bunch, which is difficult to pull off!

So yes, in conclusion, do yourself a big favour and see this movie. At the very least you'll be humming Beatles tunes for a week. I actually walked out of the theatre and directly next door to Borders and purchased the soundtrack. Not going to listen to it until tomorrow, however. For now, I'm just basking in the afterglow...

It's a good thing I love rollercoasters...

'cause it's been one of those days. One of those days that starts off marginally shitty (couldn't get my ass in gear this morning, and then had an email from one of the bosses that soooooo pissed me off when I got to work this morning, ugh!), yet managed to climb steadily uphill throughout the day and ended on a nice high note.

I just hope that the stomach-churning drop comes in the form of a raunchy dream about Ryan Gosling, and not some sort of catastrophe.

And I don't believe it's a coincidence that the uphill climb began as soon as I left the office.

With some time to kill before class and figuring I could use the exercise, I walked down to Union Square and was unable to fight the urge to enter Sephora. $60 and a smattering of guilt later I was out the door and on the phone with a good friend of mine from way back who had a baby 3 weeks ago and this is the first chance I've had to actually chat with her, hooray! Found a seat in Union Square (and probably annoyed the hell out of my benchmates, but whatever), and chatted with her for a good 40 minutes. Nothing like dishing with people you've known for well over half your life to lift the spirits.

She had to dash to feed the little one, so I wandered over to the Strand to browse the YA and children's book session--the same class assignment that led me to Amazon the other day--and WOW. Can I just tell you that kids these days are getting books that are SO freaking awesome it makes me jealous!?!? The Strand has always been a dangerous place for me--or more specifically, my wallet--but I never thought I'd be in the same sort of peril in the kids' section. Boy was I wrong! I managed to walk out with only two books, both pertinent to class, but it was tough man. Very tough.

I got to class fairly early and ended up having a very cathartic mini-bitch-session with one of the girls in my class, where I learned that a.) yet another person is frustrated with one of my other classes, and b.) I am not the only one having the variety of grad-school-induced-panic-session that I was having late last night while smoking on my fire escape. What? Didn't mention that? Nevermind, I'm sure I'll have another before the semsester is over.

Class itself was great. Our professor is somewhere halfway across the globe, so we had some guests from within our field come in to do a workshop and Q&A with us. It was a lot of fun and actually informative, and getting up on my feet and doing stuff always lifts my mood.

After class was a rehearsal for the outreach program and that means... Maybe Crush! Woohoo! Though honestly, I'm not sure what the next step is with this boy. I'm sending the signals. I always make eye contact and smile when I enter the room--hell, tonight I freaking waved! I went out of my way to sit by him when he was off alone. At the end of the night we were talking to our professor about his upcoming travel plans and MC seemed really enthused on the subject so I tried to keep him involved on the elevator and out the door.

Here's where we hit a snag. Outside the door we run into some other folks from rehearsal, one of whom happens to be my new favourite person in the universe. Let's call him AC. Wait, AC? Like AC Slater? Haha, okay, I'm totally gonna call him Slater. Anyway, never fear, Slater is gay, so no competition for Maybe Crush (though there may be a dark horse in the running, who we'll just call... The TA). Sorry, I digress. I start talking to Slater because I love him, while still trying to engage Maybe Crush, and next thing I know MC is departing.

So, what? If I don't try my hardest to wrangle you into conversation, you bail? I have reassessed my initial appraisal of "shy." Now I'm going with Impenetrable Fortress, aka- The Loner.

When I came in tonight, he was standing all alone by the wall. Before I sat next to him, he was sitting all by himself. I gotta admit I find it kinda sexy, but jesus! Throw a gal a bone!

In case you couldn't tell, I am a fairly outgoing and energetic person (a trait that Slater brings out in me to an extensive degree). You know how they say you can lead a horse to water but you can't make him drink? Well I probably could make that horse drink if he thought I'd shut up afterwards!

So needless to say, I have little difficulty holding up my end of the conversation. But I'd like a little help every now and then.

I'd give up all together, but I swear... there is something in those eyes that says he's at least a little bit attracted to me. I can't be that oblivious.

Oh who am I kidding? Yes, yes I can.

But still...

Oh the hell with it, no use obsessing at 11:12 at night.

As a final note, being in rehearsal tonight was really great. It's been a long time since I've been in such a focused environment, doing that kind of work. It felt really good and reminded me why I'm doing all this in the first place. Crushes and new friends (fabulous new friends) are an excellent added bonus, but I'm really here to hone my craft and be able to bring this joy to others.

But really, if you see Maybe Crush, give him a little shove in my direction.

Rob the Cradle of Love

I don't think I should be allowed in front of a computer before I'm fully awake.

On a whim, I just looked to see if Maybe Crush has a MySpace page. He does. It's set to private, but I was still able to see that he is YOUNG. Younger than Friend of A. Yikes!!

Don't get me wrong, it's not illegal or anything, and it's not like he needs to worry about getting carded, but still... and I don't mean to sound all "oh, I'm such an old fart" or anything, but if I consider the person I am now vs. the person I was at his age, well, there's quite a big difference. A lot can happen in a few short years.

Then again, when I was his age I was screwing around in NYC with no direction in my life getting drunk all the time--he's in grad school.

Then again, the last guy I fooled around with who was his age--and a grad student--later called me an "older woman"! Wow. Way to stoke a gal's ego there pal.

In conclusion, I am not totally writing him off or anything--he's still damned cute--this is just a minor setback.

Things have a tendency to get blown out of proportion before I've finished my morning coffee.

I Really, Really, Really Love Greenmarket

Only $7 and my apartment smells FANTASTIC.

(That's eucalyptus, by the way...all I need now is a koala bear.)

Tangent. Does anyone else remember the cartoon about the magic koala bear who lived in a tree outside some girl's bedroom, and could travel to some rainbow-land type place where there was a crazy lizard who ran around on his hind legs? What was that show called anyway? It's been bugging me all day!! End Tangent.

I also got a beautiful bouquet of Zinnias for $4 from the same place. Oh, and did I mention that the farmer boy who sold them to me was hot? Mmmmm...

What? Sorry, got a bit distracted.

Anyway, with all the new plantlife (and a newly cleared off diningroom table) my apartment looks so cheerful!

Sadly not cheerful enough to unpack itself. I think that would require more flowers than my budget would support.

Bet that magic koala could clean this place right up. Too bad I don't have one. Sigh...

We Represent the Lollipop Guild...

This morning I got onto the subway and seriously, every person in my car was a FOOT taller than me!

Granted, I'm pretty short to begin with and being towered over is not an uncommon sensation, but everyone in this car was well over 6' tall! What the hell?!?

It's another slow day at work, all the bosses are at some off-site strategizing session for the entire day. I should really take advantage of this unexpected bounty to get caught up on school work, but instead I've been surfing the web and catching up on the goings-on in blog-land. Productivity? Not exactly my strong point.

Coupla new folks on my blogroll, woohoo! Is it weird that that gives me a warm fuzzy feeling? No? Good.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to get a bikini wax on my lunch break. Ah, would that every day could be so filled with, well, nothing...

Third Time's the Charm...

Three posts in one day! What's gotten into me?!

I saw Maybe Crush this evening--damn but that boy is cute! We only exchanged a few words before class, but I thought I might have sensed a little spark in that eye contact. Then again I am wont to be woefully optimistic in such circumstances, so really, my perceptions can't be trusted.


Actually, what really sparked this post was that I saw the comments on my last post and felt the need to chime in on Princess Pointful's comment about Where the Red Fern Grows.

Anyone who does not cry at the end of that book has a heart of stone (or the strongest emotional reserve of any human being I've ever met!).

They read it out loud to all the 4th grade classes in my school, and when it was time for the end they brought us all into one classroom so that no class would hear it first and spoil it for the others. By the time they got to the last page, over half the room, the teacher reading, and the two teachers listening were ALL in tears! What a mess!

Yet my friends and I all look back on it fondly. Weird, huh?

Oh, and I still occasionally have tsunami nightmares based on that scene in Island of the Blue Dolphins.

I find it amazing how books can still affect us so strongly decades after we've read them. Makes me see why people want to become writers.

Bright Copper Kettles and Warm Woolen Mittens...

It's a slow day at the office and I'm feeling quite "meh" about my job today. Not that I ever love it, per se, but I'm trucking along slightly less cheerfully than usual.

For the moment, however, there are no bosses in sight and so I thought I'd brighten my mood by following in the footsteps of several other recent bloggers and sharing a list (in no particular order) of things that I love:

1. Meatloaf
With lots of ketchup. Maybe not always, but this week for certain, I am in love with meatloaf. And it's a damned good thing, because the one I made on Sunday was 1.5 lbs and is nowhere near finished.

2. Fall
Thank you, thank you, thank you, oh favourite season of mine, for finally choosing to show your face. More than anything else, the first few days of Fall make me want to play hooky from work and go sit in the park with a cup of coffee and enjoy the fresh crispness of the air. Soon the cider sellers at Greenmarket will start selling hot cider instead of cold and the universe will truly be a place of bliss. Speaking of which...

3. Greenmarket
The Union Square farmers' market always gives me a little taste of life back in the sticks. I don't miss living in the middle of nowhere, but I do miss the produce! I love strolling through the market (particularly on weekday afternoons when it's not jam-packed with humanity) and checking out all the veggies and plants for sale. Bonus: Now that Fall is here they have PUMPKINS! Can you say Jack-o-lanterns?!

4. Brooklyn
This could easily branch into a subcategory all its own. I love that some woman I'd never met before shouted my name and came down from her stoop to introduce herself the other night--clearly word travels fast in my new neighborhood. I love that almost every morning at exactly 7:30 a car pulls up outside my window, idles while blasting classic 60s Motown for about 2 minutes, then drives away. I love the sidewalk jesus character talking to the sky outside the liquor store. I love the brownstones and the kids playing football in the street and the fact that they call me "Miss." I love the man who was walking down the street singing soul tunes late at night last weekend. I love you Brooklyn, you are fabulous.

5. Street Critters
If you live in New York City, you are going to encounter rats. There's no two-ways about it, so you'd might as well make friends. I'm not talking about feeding them or inviting them into your home (though my cat could use the exercise), but I say "hi" to mis ratones when I see them scurrying by. And who doesn't love street kitties (other than the rats of course)? Last night I saw a street cat stalking a rat that was at least half its size... I wasn't sure who to root for, but in the end I settled on the cat. They are, after all, in the minority.

6. Starbucks Cinnamon Dolce Latte
My winter beverage of choice when I need a quick pick-me-up. It's like drinking a hot, caffienated Christmas cookie. Can you think of anything better? I can't.

7. When There's a Line for the Men's Room, and Not the Ladies'
It's a rare occurence to be certain, but always endows me with a certain sense of smug satisfaction.

8. Re-visiting Books I Loved as a Child
For a class assignment I was paging through Amazon.com's "Teen" section, sorted according to sales, and there at the top of the list I saw them: A Wrinkle In Time, Where the Red Fern Grows, Island of the Blue Dolphins. And some I'd forgotten until I saw the titles, The Dark is Rising series, Number the Stars, From the Misplaced Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler (who *doesn't* want to run away and hide in the Met?!?). I've always loved reading and it's clear now why: how could I not love it when the books I was reading were so undeniably awesome?

9. Thunderstorms
Love love LOVE them. Particularly when I don't have to leave the house.

10. Llamas
Honestly, it borders on obsession. If you take me to a petting zoo that has one, I will never want to leave. Some day I will have a pet llama, even if I never leave New York City. They're easy to housebreak, did you know that? And they're mountain animals so they'd be fine with the trek in and out of my walk-up apartment. Do you think NYC leash laws apply to camelids?

11. My Great Grandmother's Painting
I remember going to clean out her house when she went to the nursing home so my grandmother could rent it out. She had started painting late in life, and my mom and her sisters were all going through the paintings, choosing which ones they would take. I was so excited when my mom said I could have one, and at the time my favourite colour was purple so I picked out a pretty one with purple flowers. My mother said "no, this one" and picked out what I thought was the ugliest yellow and brown flower I'd ever seen. I yelled and pouted, and practically threw a fit when she hung it in my room when we got home. It stayed there for years and as time wore on and I grew older I slowly grew to love that painting, and when I moved out it came with me. It has become one of my most prized possessions, even more so because I didn't appreciate it at all in the beginning.

12. Shakespeare
I know it's cliche to say you love Shakespeare, but really, I do. How can you not love the man who coined the phrase "We are such stuff as dreams are made of, and our little life is rounded by a sleep?" Come on...

13. Having a Job
Not necessarily this job, but the fact that I have benefits and vacation days is pretty sweet. I spent a month or so unemployed at the beginning of this year and it was not a fun time. This may not be my dream job, but with age comes wisdom... and an appreciation for security.


So there are 13 things--among hundreds--that I love. I like to take stock of the things in life that give me joy. It reminds me that, no matter how bad a single day--or week, month, or year--may be going, there is still joy to be found in the world. I just have to get off my lazy ass and look for it!

Off-Hand Comment May Hold Some Truth: News at 11...

So yesterday I made a random commend about what Susan Miller might have to say about the apparent cosmic approval of the Maybe Crush, and lo and behold! It seems she approves!

After a bunch of business-related babble that I could struggle to apply to myself should I so choose to expend the energy, I reached the romance section of my horoscope and here's what I found:

This beautiful full moon on October 26 will fall in your house of true love, setting up a bewitching time for every Capricorn, no matter what your status.

Oh ho! This is promising indeed! But wait, it gets better...

If you are in college or taking classes in October, your new romantic interest may be someone you meet in the course of your studies.

Well now! If that doesn't qualify as cosmic encouragement, then I don't know what does!

It's time to get ready for work now. Methinks I shall have to spend a few extra moments deciding on the wardrobe for today, as Maybe Crush is in my class tonight.

Wish me luck!

Maybe Baby...

So Friend of A added me on MySpace today. I accepted the add, as he is a nice guy, and while I shouldn't be a freak and immediately shut down all possibilities as I am wont to do (if I reject them first, they don't get a chance to reject me! haha! I win!!), I've also realized that, should he actually ask me out, I don't think I actually have time to see him.

With the way the coming month is shaping up between school and work commitments , I really wouldn't have time to date anyone who isn't in my program...

Which brings me to this afternoon's discovery. In addition to already being in two of my classes, the Maybe Crush has also made the cut for an outreach program we both auditioned for, so I will be seeing him for several more hours each week. I also learned that he is in the weekend class that starts next week as well. It seems that the stars are aligning perfectly in my favor... provided that he likes girls, of course.

I wonder what Susan Miller would have to say about this? After the rave reviews from several of the bloggers out there I checked out her September predictions for my sign. Sadly, they weren't really all that accurate. There were a few things I could stretch to fit my own situation (ie- "joint financial difficulties" could be viewed as the final resolution of bills, etc between myself and Evil Former Roommate, but that's pushing it). I tried to check October today but the site was down for maintenance. I think I'll give her another chance. I am far more charitable to my astrologers than I am to my men.

The problem with the Maybe Crush, serendipitous class schedules aside, is that I've determined he is either a.) painfully shy, or b.) a determined loner. It's going to be a tough shell to break through, but I did actually manage to engage him in a few minutes of conversation this evening.

Hey, it's a start. Because really, with the limited amount of time I will have to myself in the coming month or so (most of which will be devoted to homework and menial tasks such as laundry), if I'm looking for romance, it's gotta come from school.

And here I am in a program full of women and gay men. Perhaps I ought to consider switch-hitting, just to open up my options.

Nah, chicks are crazy. I should know, I'm one of them.