Wednesday, December 31, 2008

Susan Miller Lied to Me...

2008 was supposed to be the best year of my life. Or at least, that's what Susan Miller said.

Now, I'm not saying that it wasn't nice. I...

Finished my Masters.

Traveled to three different continents.

Saw Macchu Pichu.

Starred in a short film.

However, only one of these--travel--was part of my prediction.

I did not find true (or any sort of) love, or form a business partnership. I bought neither a house, nor any other form of real estate. The only significant purchase of any kind was my tuition, which was hefty indeed.

So, while 2008 was certainly not terrible, and, in fact, could even be described as good, it was certainly not the banner year I was promised, and definitely not the best year of my life.

I'm not so big on New Year's Resolutions, but this year I think I'll make just one: I don't think I'll read my horoscope this year. It's much easier not to miss the things you didn't know you were supposed to have.


P.S. - On second reading, the above came out far more melancholy than intended. Sorry 'bout that!

Happy New Year, Campers! Come midnight, I'll be raising a glass to you all!

Tuesday, December 30, 2008

In Case You Didn't Believe Me About the Bed...


My cousin saw this photo on my camera and asked... "Is that a monastery?". I can't believe two kids used to share this bedroom. (I'm standing in the furthest corner to take this photo.)

Anyhoodle... I'm headed back to NYC on an 11:30am train today. It's been good being home but I'm definitely ready to be back in Brooklyn, with my own space and my own bed.

And, of course, my kitty.

Hope everyone had a lovely holiday!

Sunday, December 28, 2008

Family Time

The annual pilgrimage to Ohio on the day after Christmas to visit my Mother's extended family is always a double-edged sword.

A grandmother, a step-grandfather, eight aunts and uncles, one estranged (and emotionally disturbed) woman of unknown relation who never remembers who I am, eight cousins, three significant others of cousins, and one infant make for a crowded house indeed... particularly when 10 of those 23 people are staying in the cramped 3 bedroom, one-story house in question.

I love my family, I do... but 23 people in such a small space--or the even smaller space that is my aunt's house where we traditionally have dinner on Day 2--can easily work on the nerves, not to mention the ear drums.

It gets tougher as we get older, with my older cousin married with a child and the cousin directly below me finally introducing her live-in boyfriend to the family fracas. My second-youngest cousin is now in his freshman year of college, and while my entire family wants to congratulate me on finishing grad school, that invariably leads to the question "So what are you going to do now?" to which, thanks to our fractured and therefore artist-fucking economy, I have no answer. Top that off with my married cousin asking me good-naturedly, but in mixed company, "So, when was the last time you had a boyfriend?"--a question which I was completely unable to answer, but after several minutes of deliberation made a wild guess and said 2004--and the world's tiniest bed on which I was sleeping, and the last few days have been a bit strenuous.

I love my family.

I do.

Sometimes I just wish I could love them in smaller doses.

Thursday, December 25, 2008

And a Partridge in a Pear Tree...


Merry Christmas!!

For those of you using a reader, I deleted last night's drunken post this morning when I read it and it made very little sense.  If it's still in your reader, well... I apologize.  Too much Christmas Cheer and blogging are a bad combination :)

Tuesday, December 23, 2008


Shhhh! Do you hear that? It's coming from behind the computer...


Be careful... I think we're being watched...

Happy Christmas Eve Eve, from me and the Stalking Stego :)

Monday, December 22, 2008

Yarn is My Life

Once I finish this cup of coffee and this blog post, I will be hopping in the shower, then packing myself up and heading off to the gynecologist (yay), and then to Penn Station to catch my train home for the holidays, where I swear, at some point, I will catch up with all of your lives. My reader is still below 100. Totally manageable.

In the mean time, I thought I'd give you a little insight into the mistress to who has recently claimed all (and I do mean all) of my free time.


3 half-finished Stegosauri, and 4 half-finished Penguins


Actually, they're a little more than half-finished.  Maybe three-quarters.  They just need to be stitched up and stuffed, and two of the penguins are getting little Santa hats--those will be going to my parents bearing IOU's.  The other two penguins go to children of friends, the three stegosauri go to other children of friends (and one child-of-cousin).  Once those are finished, I just need to knit an elephant (already on the needles) for BFF's daughter, and a brain slug for my cousin, and then... then...

Then I can knit these for myself :) This has pretty much nothing to do with the "Twilight" phenomenon and everything to do with beautiful, snuggly, warm mittens that will keep wrists as well as fingers warm (and look smashing with my fur coat!). I haven't seen the movie, and thus far I've only read the first book, but I totally fell in love with these when I saw them and simply must have them.

So as you can see, yarn has completely taken over my life.  This happens every now and then, usually somewhere around Christmas when I realize I am broke and therefore choose to wow my friends and family with thoughtful handmade gifts that are low in cost but crazy in time-commitment.  But I'm coming up the home stretch, and once I've finished this lunatic binge of production-oriented knitting, I'll be back to curling up with the needles while I watch TV, and will have plenty of time to blog and be blogged.  Or something like that.

Until then... bear with me.  And leave questions in the comments section!  So far only Hope has asked anything.  I know I'm an open book and all, but seriously, there's got to be something you want to know.

Come on.  There's very little I won't answer, so feel free to be creative.

Until then... Happy Holidays!  And safe travels to all of you who are off to visit family!

Thursday, December 18, 2008

Confessions of a Procrastinating Blogger at Christmas Time

'Tis the season... for me to run around like a chicken with its head cut off making last-minute gifts that surpass my poverty with their thrift and thoughtfulness... and hence fall way behind in both blog reading, and blog writing.

Sorry about that. I'll be back in your comment sections in full force sometime soon.

I hope.

That being said, the official completion of my Masters Degree (just got my Thesis grade in email today--an A! Woohoo!) has left me with quite a lot of backlog on my plate. This afternoon I did laundry for the second time this week! Now all of my sheets and towels--in addition to the majority of my oversized wardrobe--are clean.

My apartment, on the other hand, is not. I'm saving that for tomorrow... or Saturday... Sunday at the latest, cross my heart!

I decided at the very last possible minute to knit a ton of Christmas presents--especially considering that I will be seeing not one, or two, but THREE recently-turned-one-year-old boys who will be needing gifts. Knit Stegosauri it is. I also have all the parts knitted for 4 stuffed penguins. Two of them will be going to my parents, bearing IOUs for larger knitting projects (I am *not* putting in the considerable amount of time and effort required to knit a sweater for someone if they haven't picked out the pattern and the yarn themselves) and the other two are just-in-cases for all the various and sundry children I will be seeing.

Damnit, I just remembered: BFF's little girl already has a penguin from me! Hmmm... wonder if I can alter the pattern somehow to be a Panda Bear. Will have to look into that. After I knit 3 dinosaurs and sew up a travel jewelry wallet equipped to carry a dozen pairs of earrings for my mom. (DS, you and my mom would totally hit it off in the jewelry department... she takes a dozen pairs of earrings for a 5 day vacation!)

And so, my darlings, all of that... coupled with as many "Sorry I haven't seen you in forever, Happy Holidays!" meet-ups as I can cram into my schedule (like some long-overdue mojitos with the lovely Miss Ashley tomorrow), and all the pre-holiday errands that can no longer be ignored... is why I am, and will most likely continue to be, woefully absent from blog-land for the next few days.

And so I leave you with the following:

1. Curry made with "Lite" coconut milk is never as good, no matter how many calories it saves. Don't do it.

2. I've noticed a lot of new faces popping up in the comments lately. Welcome!! Thanks for stopping by... and for sticking around! Anything you're dying to know about me or the blog? Drop a question in the comments and I'll do a "Froggy Answers Your Questions" post sometime soon. (This offer is open to old readers as well... just taking a page from Hope's book. What can I say? I'm a slacker.)

Merry Whatever-it-is-that-you-choose-to-be-merry-about-in-December!

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Are those... Golf Balls?

The sky is currently shedding golf ball sized snowflakes all over Brooklyn, and New Yorkers have *me* to thank for it!


Because against my better judgment, having seen the weather forecast, I decided that it was time to finally (read: for the first time since October) do my laundry. As such, the snow began to fall just as I finished loading 60-some pounds of laundry into two jumbo washing machines at the laundromat down the street.

If the snow keeps up at this rate, and actually sticks to the sidewalk, I'll be rolling my laundry cart home through at least 2 inches by the time my laundry is finally done.

Why is it that the loveliest things are often the most annoying?

Monday, December 15, 2008

Warm Fuzzies

Tonight I saw a one-night-only production of one of my favourite musicals--You're a Good Man Charlie Brown--as a fundraiser for the Make A Wish Foundation.

In the spirit of the evening, and because this show has always had the ability to make me stupidly cheerful, I will forgo with all the bitching I was going to do about mundane crap that annoyed me today, and instead leave you with some song lyrics that always serve to remind me just how important the little things are.


Happiness is finding a pencil.
Pizza with sausage.
Telling the time.

Happiness is learning to whistle.
Tying your shoe for the very first time.

Happiness is playing the drum in your own school band.
And happiness is walking hand in hand.

Happiness is two kinds of ice cream.
Knowing a secret.
Climbing a tree.

Happiness is five different crayons.
Catching a firefly.
Setting him free.

Happiness is being alone every now and then.
And happiness is coming home again.

Happiness is morning and evening,
day time and night time too.

For happiness is anyone and anything at all
that's loved by you.

Happiness is having a sister.
Sharing a sandwich.
Getting along.

Happiness is singing together when day is through,
And happiness is those who sing with you.

Happiness is morning and evening,
daytime and nighttime too.

For happiness is anyone and anything at all
that's loved by you.


I've noticed it slowly happening over the past several months, but in the last few days it's become increasingly obvious. My body is slipping steadily back into old habits.

Namely, staying awake all night and sleeping late into the day.

On one hand, I suppose it doesn't really matter, being that I don't have a job. On the other, it doesn't bode well for adjusting should I ever find one that requires me to be coherent before noon.

The trouble is, it's a difficult habit to break, particularly when I have absolutely no compelling reason to be out of bed before 11:00am, other than some feeble notion that "normal people" or "adults" get up at a certain time.

Honestly, I wonder where that notion comes from. I mean, in my specific case, it would be my parents. They're both fairly early risers (though I assure you that wasn't always the case) and subtly frown on me when I sleep well into the daylight hours. For the rest of the world--or the U.S. at least--I suppose it comes from the 9-5, the "real" members of the "grown-up" workforce that rise at 6am, eat breakfast, don a suit and tie and head off to the office.

But why should that be the measure of adulthood? Why should I try to deny my body's natural rhythms in answer to the call of a workforce that has never held any interest for me?

The answer to that question is, clearly, that I shouldn't.

Which I suppose makes the real question: why do I feel compelled to do so anyway? Or, at the very least, why do I feel like I should be compelled to do so, and therefore feel guilt that I do not?

I have no answers, and truly, when you get right down to it, it's hardly worth losing sleep over.

I certainly won't.

Friday, December 12, 2008


I just emailed Thesis to my professor, a full two and a half days before it was due, just in case he had any final thoughts/suggestions/things he wanted me to clarify. Being that he is quite possibly the most over-extended person I know, I doubt he'll get back to me with anything.

So... I think this means... I'm... done... with my Masters.

Now what?

Thursday, December 11, 2008

Asses and Elbows

I was very sorely tempted to post, in its entirety, the IM conversation I just had with the English Ex, but I didn't want your brains to simultaneously explode.

Let's just say that a conversation that begins with your ex boyfriend asking "Do you think my obsession with butt plugs is odd?" can only head in one direction.

My brain feels like mush, and I really need to get on track and work on Thesis. I think I can finish the bulk of it today before Grey's Anatomy if I can just crack down and get some work done, but my brain is just not in the proper gear and I have no idea how to get it there.

Maybe I need to bake something. That seems to be my solution for everything these days.

I am awash in various degrees of panic over various and sundry subjects. Most specifically: Thesis, the deplorable state of the economy, and my accordingly non-existent job prospects.

So far I've got two possibilities: Homeless Person and Lottery Winner, with the latter obviously being the more desirable of the two.

I'm also seriously considering egg donation, if they'll take a chick who used to smoke and did a lot of drugs in the late 90s.

Any other suggestions? My tits aren't big enough to be a stripper...

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Where the hell is my motivation??

I have so much work to do and so little motivation to actually do it.

I've designed one more week of the residency that is my Thesis, but I'm starting to loose focus. It's awfully difficult to design a residency for communally writing a play when you have no idea what sort of stuff the students would come up with, and are therefore writing a predictive model based on... what? Pure freaking imagination. And mine appears to be malfunctioning today.

I'll just bake some more bread. Maybe that will help. Carbs solve everything.

I think I'll go make a list of the readings that will be assigned to participants. It's not a lesson plan, but it's something...

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

One Down, One to Go...

Tonight was the final reading of my work in my Playwriting class. While the play itself isn't finished, the 10 minutes of it that were read tonight were very well received. It was gratifying to know that I'm not the only one who thought a diatribe on the original Star Trek series versus the movies was funny, and that the other students in my class engaged with my characters as much as I did. I'm actually really excited to finish writing it.

After, that is, I spend the next 3-5 days entirely devoted to completing my Thesis. My ultimate goal is to have it complete by the end of the day on Friday so I can email it to my professor and ask if he has any suggestions for me to enact in the final days before it is due. Barring that, however, it's due on Monday.

And then... I will be done with my Masters.

Which, given the current state of the economy,is more scary than it is exciting. I can't quite shake the feeling that I have just spent a painfully large sum of money on a degree, only to go back to waitressing, or worse... temping.

I think I'd rather chew my own leg off.

Think I could pay off my student loans with limbs?

Starting Tuesday on the Right Note

From the award-winning documentary, "Playing For Change: Peace Through Music."

I've always loved this song, and the warm fuzzies here are almost overwhelming. Happy Tuesday!

I realize in retrospect that the subject of this post is a terrible pun... but I kinda like it. Apologies to the pun-sensitive.

Monday, December 8, 2008

The more I think about it...

... the more I realize that it was not a good date.

I should not have to defend the fact that I (gasp!) watch television, or religiously read D-Listed, to someone I've known for less than an hour.

So my question to myself is: Why did I make such an effort to like this guy, when he had very little going for him other than his interest in me? Is it natural to keep looking for the positives when the negatives are so clearly in the majority, or is it just a sign of desperation?

Sunday, December 7, 2008

An Epic Romance, It Is Not...

Last night I went to a holiday party and got drunk with a bunch of my favourite people (Hey there W, how are you feeling today?). I came home, decidedly intoxicated and high on good company and lots and lots of carbs, and sent an email to Match Guy basically telling him that he needed to ask me out. How did I operate the keyboard in my completely obliterated state? No idea.

Lo and behold, this morning (nearly afternoon) he began bombarding me with texts--which included mocking me for needing to nap away my hangover, which really wasn't fair. Nobody would have wanted to be around me before that nap, least of all me.

Anyhow, I napped, showered, and headed into the city to meet up with him.

And it was...


The jury is still very much out, though I think they are leaning toward "No Go."

I feel like I have to try too hard around him. I mean, I know that I'm smart and witty and entertaining, but it's like there was this constant pressure to be all three at once--which is fucking exhausting, btw--and when I slipped for a moment I felt like I was undergoing the third degree.

As I rode the subway home, I took a moment to step outside myself... and I immediately realized that the look on my face was not that of a girl who had just had a great date.

Furrowed brow and pursed lips ≠ Butterflies and rainbows

However, it wasn't terrible. I didn't make up an excuse about needing to get home before dark so I didn't get raped (yes, I've used that one before). And while he's not a great kisser, when I let him bite my neck (long story) I kinda wanted to rip my clothes off right there.

Considering that I'd love to have sex again before the end of 2008, that might merit a second date for further investigation.

Friday, December 5, 2008

Well Since You Asked...

After simultaneously texting and emailing for a few ridiculous minutes, I just spent an hour on the phone with Match Guy.

And while an hour telephone conversation--particularly with a near stranger--is generally unheard of, the jury is currently out.

First off, it was an hour of what was essentially goofy banter about nothing in general; and while I am certainly a fan of banter, I am also a fan of conversations where actual information and ideas are exchanged. He's silly and made me laugh (and occassionally squirm when an attempted joke did not land), but also appears to have the attention span of a moth and I'm not convinced he's capable of carrying on an actual, serious conversation.

Second, he won't man up and actually ask me out. He's hinted, and kept trying to convince me to come up to Morningside Heights at 12:05am after he finished writing a paper that's due at midnight, but wouldn't just say "Hey, want to get a drink on _______?"

Don't get me wrong, I am in no way writing him off after one phone conversation. Like I said, it's rare indeed for me to spend that much time on the phone with anyone. Just that... I'm trying to dissuade myself from my usual cycle where I get all excited about something that turns out to be nothing at all.

I don't know if I've ever mentioned Mr. Perfect On Paper. I met him online, through something free and utterly shameful (Craigslist, I think). We emailed, had some rather scandalous IM sessions, and talked on the phone for several hours.

Then we met, and... nothing. No chemistry, no spark, nein, nyet, nada. Talk about a let down.

And don't even get me started on Rodent Man.

So, in general, online dating has a tendency to build my hopes only to dash them all to pieces, so I'm trying to keep things in perspective.

I'm also trying to stop myself from being exceedingly picky, like I often can be. I'll wait until I meet him in person before I make any judgment calls. If he ever actually asks me out.*

I hope he does. He's awfully cute.

* Yes, yes, I am fully aware that this is the 21st Century and I could just ask him out myself, but if there's one thing experience has taught me it's that when I do all the pursuing and planning, things end as soon as I stop. I need a man who is capable of taking the initiative and demonstrating that he actually wants to see me. I don't think that's asking too much...


He emailed me.

I am such a fruitcake.

Thursday, December 4, 2008

The Lighter Side of Why I Suck At Dating

I feel it's only fair that I tell you all that after my last rant-ish post, I went and gave my profile a complete overhaul.

Hell, I paid something like $70 for a 3 month membership, and one of those has come and gone with exactly nothing to show for it. Being that the economy is officially in the shitter and as such my job prospects are essentially nil, I figured it was time to start looking for a return on my investment, whether it be an enduring love to take my mind off the fact that I'm about to be broke, a dirty shag to keep me warm when my heat goes off, or a sugar daddy to pay my rent when the loans run out.

So I jumped back into that proverbial pond with a spear and a net, prepared to do a little fishin'... and found a feature on Match's website that's either new, or I just hadn't noticed before: the "Reverse Match."

In a nutshell, instead of running a search for someone whose profile fits all the arbitrary criteria that you deemed either Very or Not Very Important on a scale of 1-5, it shows you a list of people who are looking for someone with your criteria.

Since I am historically terrible at choosing men for myself, I thought I'd give that a whirl and see if any nearby, attractive, non-sociopathic males were looking for a girl like me.

Lo and behold, I found one!

Not only that, but we exchanged hourly goofy emails for the better part of the afternoon.

Now I haven't heard from him in 5 hours and I'm totally convinced that my last email somehow put him off.

Not that, you know, he actually has a life and just hasn't been around a computer.

Because that would be logical.

And when it comes to dating? This frog throws logic right out the proverbial window.

I just hope it doesn't hit a pedestrian. I'd kinda like to get it back.

Wednesday, December 3, 2008

Must Everything In Life Be a Challenge?

Filtering through my google reader while trying to figure out how to structure my day (do I devote it entirely to school work? run some errands first? bake more bread? do laundry? what should I have for dinner? why the hell can't I make a decision lately??), I noticed a recurring theme among several blogs.

Namely, dating, and the difficulty thereof.

What? A single gal reading the blogs of other Singletons?

Shocking. Truly.

As I look back on the past decade of my life--for it has been 10 years since I uttered the words "I love you," and even then I was inwardly cringing and wondering how long it was going to take me to screw up the courage to finally end a tortured and unhealthy relationship--and I have to ask: Why does it have to be so difficult?

Of the many men I've dated since then end of that particular fiasco, there were a few that I could have fallen in love with, but some wrench would be thrown into the works to bring the whole thing crashing down. We'd be separated by an ocean, say... or his ex-girlfriend. You know, little stuff.

There were plenty that I dated simply because they were there--or perhaps because I drank too much in my early 20s, and my judgment was therefore not entirely sound. They all had some redeeming qualities: a wicked sense of humor, fabulous looks, a sizeable... intellect. But they all also had qualities that wound up being deal breakders: hitting on my best friend, creating drama wherever they went, the inability to place me anywhere on their priority list, let alone in the Top 10. And then there were some who just vanished, faded away into the ether without explanation... which would annoy me for a few weeks, and then I'd get over it and move on to the next eventually-unsuitable-suitor.

So my question is, and has been for some time, why, in a city of millions, is it so difficult to connect with another person on more than a superficial level?

Other than the fact that I have serious trust issues, and fear opening up to anyone lest they a.) find a way to hurt me, or b.) become so emotionally dependent on me (like the afore-mentioned tortured and unhealthy relationship) that I feel like I'm suffocating in a sea of over-zealous and needy affection.

I've never really had a relationship (okay, "relationship") that didn't fall into one of those two categories.

I can't say that I'd even know what to do with one should it come along.

But damnit, that doesn't mean I wouldn't like the opportunity to try.

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

Argh... Part 5,683

I saw Slater last night.

It was weird.

We're both charter members of the same theatre company, and last night we had an organizational meeting. I had a feeling he'd be there, but hadn't adequately prepared myself for the weirdness of pretending nothing was wrong when clearly EVERYTHING was wrong.

So, so wrong.

And weird.

So weird and wrong that I came home and started baking bread and drinking rum (I never drink rum!) at 9:00pm.

The thing bugging me the most is: NOW what do I do about the Peru gifts? I was all set to just mail them to him, but now that I have an established place and time where I'll see him, doing so feels awkward.

By the same token, so does showing up to a meeting to hand your former-best-friend-who's-taken-to-ignoring-you a scarf and a piece of frikkin' Macchu Pichu.


It feels like I've been saying that a lot lately...