Battered

Holy hell am I tired.

It seems that, lately, the universe has been conspiring to make me a bad blogger. First, there was the whole hospital thing. Now, there is The Job That Ate My Life... to say nothing of my feet, knees, and hips. Ow.

Everything hurts. I've tried three different pairs of shoes, but after walking around on a hard tile floor for 14 hours straight, shoes don't make a lick of difference. My new Earth Shoes left my feet feelings lightly less battered, but the strap happens to rub directly across the spot where I cut my foot open on the bar refrigerator, so until that heals, they are temporarily shelved.

Today I am off, and while mentally I really want to go downtown to meet a friend and her husband at the Big Apple BBQ street fair and gorge myself on assorted sauce-drenched meats, physically I just want to glue myself to the couch, order take-out, pay someone else to do my laundry, and watch CSI: Miami until I go cross-eyed. So which do I appease, body or soul? Considering that the BBQ will involve lots of walking around, not to mention standing in lines, it seems that the desires of the two are mutually exclusive.

I'm off tomorrow as well, but I have to get up mildly early to go do my hours at the Rep Co, which I shifted to an earlier time slot so I can go join my friend at the Ballet in the afternoon. This also means that anything productive (laundry, washing my cat-hair-laden bedding) should probably happen today.

Something's gotta give, and soon. Granted, this job is only temporary until camp--and if I come back to them afterward it will most definitely be on a part-time basis--but can I really stick it out through July 22nd with this brutal four-double-shifts-per-week schedule? If the restaurant keeps getting busier and we start pulling in $300+ per day, I'll be able to convince myself that the financial aspect makes it worth it... but right now, when I'm making more or less the same amount of money as I was getting from unemployment? It makes me want to kick puppies.

If, you know, I could lift my leg.

Little Lessons

I haven't officially begun training for Avon (psssst! Have you donated yet? You totally should! All the cool kids are doing it! Here, check it out!), but since the weather has been fine, and my fat ass* needs to lose some weight, I went on a 2 hour walk both yesterday and today. Yesterday I tackled Fort Tryon Park (even more beautiful now that everything is green!) and Inwood Hill Park (only natural forest left in Manhattan!), and today I walked from 52nd St & Lex to 125th & St. Nicholas via a very circuitous route through Central Park.

Here are a few things I learned along the way.

1. There is NO easy way up the hill into Fort Tryon Park.

2. Even if there was, it would NOT be the stairs.

3. Inwood Hill Park is very aptly named.

4. Black Squirrels! Who knew?

5. Central Park is, in fact, even bigger than it looks on the map.

6. That being said, walking from South-East to North-West corner, it takes about an hour and a half to get across, but you could easily spend a day there and not see everything.

7. If you're walking on the gravel paths in CP, the gravel WILL get into your shoes.

8. The Rambles are paved. Boo.

9. Groundhogs! In Manhattan! Who knew?

10. Googling "fragrant purple flowers" will not help you figure out what those amazing flowers in the Heather Garden are.**

11. It is possible to be out and about in Manhattan and not see another human being for over an hour.

12. If you get deep enough into Inwood Hill Park, you can't hear the cars anymore.

13. When 10 and 11 happen simultaneously, you may or may not start imagining Axe Murderers lurking in the underbrush. I blame over-exposure to Law and Order.


________________
* Before you all go postal on me, yes, yes, I am aware that my definition of "fat ass" probably varies greatly from some of your definitions... which doesn't change the fact that I've eaten nothing but crap for the last month and my waistline has suffered accordingly. So nyeh.

** I'll give a dollar, or maybe just a cool web badge, to anyone who can re-write that sentence without the dangling preposition and NOT sound like a pompous ass. I tried. It's not easy.

Back from the Abyss

Well, it's my 400th post, and I'm here to say... Sorry for disappearing on y'all like that, really I am. The past 6 weeks have been exhausting. The days more or less blurred together after awhile, and I figured that simply falling off the grid for a bit was better than filling your readers with a bunch of semi-comatose "Today at the hospital we..." posts.

But as of Tuesday my friend was released, and as I type this she is winging her way towards Idaho with her mother, where she'll spend the next few months rehabbing and getting her strength back. (Baby, if you're well enough to be reading this, you know I love you! Keep up the hard work!!).

And here I am, trying to get my life back to some semblance of normalcy--or whatever it is that passes for normal in these parts. Which means lots of cooking, so one of my trademark Food Porn posts is imminent.

In the mean time, I had an interview for a job I really wanted that I thought went well, but I didn't get the job. I took a job as a waitress that I don't really want but thought it might be nice to get off unemployment... so long as this place takes off. If I end up making LESS than I am on unemployment, well, I'm gonna be pissed. Either way, training starts next week. In about an hour I have to leave for an audition for a show that I'm not entirely sure I want to do after having read the sides the director sent for the audition, but I already signed up so I'd might as well go. I'm hoping the UPS man gets here before I leave because I really want the shoes he's delivering (some kick-ass old school Vans that I got for a ridiculously low price, fingers crossed that they fit!). I'm halfway to my fundraising goal for Avon, so if you haven't donated yet, go do it now!!! Every little bit helps, and a donation of $10 or more enters you into my raffle with sweet, handmade prizes! Come on, who doesn't like prizes? Oh, and Chemistry.com tried to hook me up with a 26 year old World of Warcraft fan who lives with his parents, which pretty much sums up how well *that* little venture is going...

And I think that's pretty much it. My apartment is still not remotely unpacked and completely filthy. The other day I spotted a roach in my dishwasher, which left me less than pleased, and yes, I ran the entire load again.

Bottom line: I am exhausted. I slept late today (miraculously, my cat allowed me to do so!) and still I feel wiped out. I feel like I need to sleep for a week, but unfortunately, I don't think that's in the cards just yet.

So here I am. I am back. In spirit if not in energy. Thanks for waiting :)

Slacker.

My Google Reader count is up over 200 again. I am a blog slacker.

My friend is still in the hospital. That won't be changing any time soon, but it sort of gives me an excuse for being a blog slacker.

I still don't have a job. Not for lack of effort, but the economy is being a total slacker.

I've had hot water in my shower exactly ONCE since I moved in. I am now a shower slacker (good thing I've nobody to impress).

I really want to leave to go to the hospital but I'm waiting on a phone call and I just know they're going to call as soon as I get on the subway. Damn you, caller, for being such a slacker.

My cat has spent the better part of the day sleeping, and the rest of it whining. Total slacker.

I have no logical or witty end to this post. Which makes total sense, really... because I'm a slacker.

The Final Countdown

(I'm totally going to have that song stuck in my head now.)

Two days till the big move and SO much to do!

I've been trying to be good, I really have. Setting little daily goals for myself... and thoroughly failing to meet them. But now I've only got two days left and my apartment still sort of looks like someone lives here, so the situation must be rectified, pronto.

Today's goals: Drop off donation clothes at Salvation Army, Do Laundry, Pack up all clothes except those needed in next few days, Pack up all bric-a-brac (aka trinkets, souvenirs, artwork, and other miscellany--I have a lot of miscellany), Pack linens, Finish cleaning out and packing bedroom closet, Take end tables, corner shelf, old TV, old VHS tapes, and sundry other items down to the curb to be appropriated by the locals.

Yikes.

Tomorrow's goals: Clean and pack kitchen, Take down the wall that must be removed in order to get the couch out of the house, Complete all of today's goals that I don't get finished.

Eep.

I can't wait for this nightmare to be over. I may be incommunicado for awhile after Monday, unless I can scam free wifi from someone in my new building, since this whole My-Apartment-Doesn't-Officially-Exist thing might keep me from having internet for, oh, THREE WEEKS OR SO...

I am still livid over this one. Seriously, seriously livid.

Anyhow, that's all I've got. Some ole' crap, I know.

I woke up early today (after getting home late, having elected beers with friends over packing) to give an ancient laptop to a guy from Freecycle--it's going to an NGO in Kenya--and now I kinda want to go back to bed for an hour or so, since it's not like I'll be productive before noon anyway.

Also, right before I woke up I was having a weird dream about a clogged toilet and a spider covered in chewing gum weaving a web above my pillow. Somehow that hardly seems like the right note on which to start the day.

Randomosity

Russell Brand's teeth are far too nice for an Englishman. Also, I would do lots and lots of exceptionally dirty things to him if given the chance.

You hear that Russell? Call me.

So I found an apartment. I'm signing the lease on Tuesday and (hopefully) moving on Friday. I filled out the "online quote" form for my moving company Friday night so I'm hoping they call me first thing Monday morning and hopinghopinghoping they are available to do the move on Friday, at a time other than the crack of dawn's ass. My dad is driving up to give me a hand with some things like re-hanging my shelves in the new place, and transporting a yowling cat who hates being in her carrier, and since it's a three hour drive to NYC from Hometown, he won't be able to get here until around 10am.

I wonder how much extra the movers are going to charge, considering the new place is a 5th floor walk-up.

It's also in a completely different neighborhood than where I've lived in NYC so far (Ashley will be excited to learn that it is in Manhattan, but just about as far north as you can possibly go without falling into the Harlem River), so it will be interesting to see how I feel about it once I'm settled in.

Tomorrow will begin the Great Pack-Fest of 2009. I reallyreallyreallyreallyREALLY fucking HATE packing. With a passion. Particularly because the new place is much smaller than my current place, and thus I need to do some *major* downsizing. I should probably get drunk first. That always makes getting rid of things easier.

I'm sorry that I have nothing particularly exciting to say. New neighbors are moving in downstairs today and I think they smoke, as I smelled it in my livingroom this afternoon. That makes it a good time for me to move, as I don't like the smell of smoke in my house.

I mailed in my egg donor application last week. I need to call them tomorrow and ask how long it will be until I hear from them as to whether or not I've been accepted to go to Round 2 of screening. I hope so. I need the money.

We've got one potential contender in the land of Chemistry.com. I'm still skeptical, but we'll give it a shot. If I survive the move.

Still need a job. Trying not to think about it.

That about sums it up really. I'm baking bread right now, trying out a new recipe for a simple white loaf. I made 1 loaf and 6 hot dog buns which look totally tasty. I broke my no-factory-made-bread rule last week to buy some buns and couldn't believe how god-awful they were. Ick! So this is the first attempt at homemade. They look a little wonky, but I doubt the hot dog will mind.

Right. I'll stop now. I promise I'll try to be a better blogger once this whole moving thing blows over.

Kisses!

f*ck

There was another topic I was going to blog about today. I was all prepared to write an insightful post about how people's perspective seems to skew when they have kids.

Then I found out that I didn't get approved for the apartment in Harlem because I'm unemployed--even though it's cheap enough that I could *easily* pay the rent living on unemployment alone, and even though I created a detailed description of likely scenarios for my freelance income.

In other words--I am totally, 100%, utterly, fucked.

I need to find a cheaper apartment, because I'm unemployed.

Nobody wants to give me an apartment, because I'm unemployed.

If I can't even get approved for a fucking low-income apartment, how the hell will I get approved for a normal apartment???

And even though my mother insisted on bringing up the subject right before bed every night that I was home this weekend, I am NOT moving back in with my parents. That would be tantamount to giving up my entire life and everything I've worked (and gone into debt) for, and I just can't do it.

And to top it all off, as I sit here in a spiraling state of panic and despair even worse than the one that sent me scampering off to buy cigarettes last week... I have an audition in 5 hours, and I'm so consumed with being a basket-case over my looming homelessness that I can't even think about it.

f*ck

f*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck

F*CK

That is how I feel today.

I wasted my apartment-karma living in rent control for four years while the economy was healthy, pissing away my money on all those things we piss our money away on in our early 20s. Now that I really need that karma, it's nowhere to be found.

Sorry that the blog has turned into a circus of self-pity lately, but being that that's pretty much all that's going on in my life these days, it's all I've got.

motherfucker.

Snippet

Okay boys, I gotta ask...

Would you make this the entire body of your online dating profile?

"I would love to be with a girl who is comfortable in jeans, cute and down-to-earth, likes hanging out with me and my friends, and would enjoy going to events that I end up going to. Just please don't be full of yourself or a snob about others and we will get along great!"

Nothing about yourself, just a directive to any woman who might have self-esteem low enough to find this appealing?

Chemistry needs to add a "He seems like a douche-bag," or a "He's totally full of himself" option when they ask why you're not interested in one of the matches they provide. "Not a good fit" just doesn't seem to cover it.

His-Royal-Douchiness aside, I'm playing the Keep an Open Mind game and I've got, like, 6 guys saved to my Active Matches (a few that I might have added while half asleep at 1am and may need to re-evaluate soon). I'm not particularly excited about any of them, but I want to see how this process plays out.

Also, I have a lot of free time.

We are now progressing through sending "Relationship Essentials" (Position the slider to show how important the following qualities are to you!) and "Short Answer Questions" (What made you smile today? Desert Island top five! What are you most grateful for?!)

Eventually, I think we actually get to email each other.

I am immensely skeptical and have a sneaking suspicion that if/when I actually get around to meeting any of these guys, I will probably enjoy myself and have good conversations, but don't anticipate immediately wanting to jump any of their bones.

Time, as they say, will tell.

Crabby

I'm feeling very crabby today.

While I technically have enough money to stay in my current apartment until roughly June 15th, logic dictates that it makes much more sense to move before I run out of money, and, as my father said on the phone yesterday, "putting it off won't make it suck any less." Thus, I have started apartment hunting.

For the record, the economic downturn does not appear to be affecting the housing market in NYC, which means that finding a cheaper apartment will most certainly result in either a drastic reduction in size of living space, or (the horror!) a roommate.

Or, you know, New Jersey. But really, we don't want to think like that.

And then there's my continuing unemployment. The bottom line is: I really need a job. Really. And it's biting me in the ass because the entire reason that I went to grad school in the first place is so that I wouldn't have to take another unfulfilling and mindless job just for the sake of having a job, and now it looks like that's exactly what I'm going to have to do.

Fuck.

So. Yes. The realities of life have got me feeling pretty pissy today, so here's a few pictures of things that make me happy.

The cake from Valentine's Day. It was every bit as awesome as it looks.

I would eat pizza every day if it wouldn't make me a total fat ass. However, when you make it yourself, it's actually not that bad for you, and thus I am on a seemingly never-ending mission to find the perfect NY style pizza crust recipe. This is last night's attempt, which was pretty damned good (and exactly what my hangover required).

I've started knitting my first ever pair of socks, and since I'm incapable of doing things the easy way, they are split-toed ninja socks! As in, I'm going to try to create a chart so I can knit a little ninja on the side. They're going to be awesome.


There. I feel marginally better. Time to eat leftover pizza and scour Craigslist for a decent apartment that's not a scam from someone claiming to live in Europe who needs me to pay $200 for her to send me the keys.

Joy.

In Defense of "Juno" [Spoilers!!]

WARNING: If you haven't seen the movie and you intend to, you might want to skip this one.

So, during one of my many hangovers last week (just another perk of my temporary "Social Butterfly" status) I was looking for something amuse me while I lay on the couch in a stupor, and I stumbled across Juno on HBO On Demand.

Now, everyone I know who has seen the movie had had one of two reactions: Absolute Adoration, or Complete and Utter Loathing... with Loathing holding a commanding lead. Never being one to form an opinion without personal experience, I decided that it was high time I checked it out for myself.

So I watched it.

And...

I liked it.

Liked.

Not Loved Beyond All Limit of What Else in the World*; but also not Hated With the Fire of a Thousand Suns**.

The soundtrack was painfully and pretentiously Indie, but being that it fit in with the overall feel of the movie, I was willing to let it slide (even if my teeth did grind a bit every time a new song began).

I watched with an open mind, trying not to mentally catalog "Things That Annoy Me" (other than the soundtrack), which is what I felt most of the Loathers had done. When it ended, I was left undecided, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that, for the most part, I had really enjoyed it.

And then I started thinking about the complaints that I'd heard from the Loathing camp, and there are a few that I would like to address.

First, and potentially most absurd, was the idea that the character of Sue Chin was racist. Yes, racist.

Please...

Sterotypical, okay, yes. Not all Asian Americans speak poor English... but some do; and from what I know of Diablo Cody, she hardly strikes me as a racist. I'm guessing that this particular character and incident were based on some sort of personal experience, or a person she's known in the real world. Whatever the source, she clearly had a reason for writing the character as she did; and the director kept the character as written, and I highly doubt that "make Asian people look stupid" was either of their modus operandi.

And honestly, that scene? Going to get an abortion and having one lone protestor outside the clinic? And having it be someone you know? AMAZING! For both of them... because, in that situation... what do you do?

The second complaint I've heard is that the movie is pretentious. At first, I thought so too, but the more I watched, the more I realized that it's not the film itself, per se, but the characters in the film. Follow me?

Juno is a perfect example of a "cooler than thou" hipster youth. Jason Bateman's character is a classic "I'm too cool for this life" adult with a Peter Pan complex. Michael Cera is... okay, Michael Cera. Seriously, that kid is so sweet and sincere it gives me a toothache. Is he capable of playing any other type of character? Could he please try?

Sorry, I got sidetracked. The bottom line on this one is that, at the heart of this movie are several characters who need to grow up... if there was no room for character growth, why the hell would we watch?

And finally, the complaint I find most ludicrous, is that the movie makes teen pregnancy look like a good thing, or that it's not enough of a cautionary tale.

Um, hi. Not meant to be a cautionary tale! (Though the line about kids at school calling her "The Cautionary Whale" was easily the best one-liner in the entire script). Juno is not a "message movie," nor is it an After School Special, or a Lifetime Movie of the Week. It does not exist to preach the morality (or immorality) of teen pregnancy, or make a statement about what one should or should not do in such a situation.

It is a story. It is fiction. It exists, in its entirety, to tell that story in an engaging and entertaining manner. Making choices and forming opinions are the job of the audience, not the storyteller. The film does not exist to tell us what to do.

Keeping all of that in mind, what I liked best about this film is that at its core, it felt honest and genuine.

Not every girl's parents will throw a fit and/or kick her out of the house if she gets knocked up. (We've already got "Quinceanera" for that, which, btw, is a kick-ass movie). I liked that this movie showed supportive parents doing their best to help their kid through a rough situation. And the moment when Allison Janney chews out the sonogram technician? AH-mazing!

Sure, Juno seems awfully blase about being pregnant, but she's a freaking teenager! Of course she's acting like she's got it all under control! That's what we do! And she thinks she's found the perfect solution: give the kid away to a seemingly "perfect," family. Young, wealthy, attractive... what could go wrong?

But when it does go wrong? That's when she makes the most mature decision of the entire film. She sees that her "perfect" plan was perhaps not so perfect after all; that, in effect, nothing is ever as perfect as we want it to be... and, stripped of her fairy tale, she makes a real decision... and it is not easy.

I feel like the course of this movie is less about Juno being pregnant, and more about her learning how to "get over herself," so to speak. And how some of us (Jason Bateman), never do.


I have no idea if I made my point here, nor do I know why I felt driven to defend this movie so vehemently. I guess that, in my eyes, the haters just sort of missed the point.

I'm sure there are many out there who could rebut every point I've made here, and may feel free to do so if that's what makes them happy. I just feel like Juno got a bad rap that I don't feel it deserved.

That's just my $.02.

_________
* Catch that Shakespeare reference?
** Look! Another one!

Social Butterflies Prone to Illness. News at 11.

I'm feeling very "blah" today, and I can't tell if I'm coming down with a cold or if I'm just feeling run down because of all my crazy social engagements this week. I'm not accustomed to having my presence so in-demand... and my bank account is likewise in shock.

Tuesday was the Lovely A's birthday--resulting in a drunken 2am blog post and a hungover Wednesday. Last night was a going-away happy hour (that lasted until nearly midnight) for a pair of friends who are moving to LA.

Tonight I have two birthday parties to attend. My friend K, and The Contender. There's about an hour of travel time between the two, so I'll be hitting The Contender's party second and crashing at his place, rather than making the 1 hour trek back up to my neck of the woods. He called me this afternoon to warn me that an ex girlfriend of his might be there--apparently she's going through a rough time right now--which I thought was sweet. I'm really not the kind of girl to get freaked out about that sort of thing, especially considering that whatever it is that's going on between he and I is completely undefined, but it was still nice of him to give me a heads up.

Tomorrow I will be recovering from the festivities of today, and then Sunday is the SUPERBOWL!! Therefore I am absolutely not allowed to be sick, because my boys are playing in the Superbowl and I have every intention of being in a bar in Chelsea in a private room with several other rabid fans, one of whom is loaning me her extra Terrible Towel. Excellent!

So needless to say, with so much on my calendar, I'm feeling a bit run down today, and as much as I've been enjoying seeing all of my friends, both I and my bank balance are looking forward to going back to my normal hermit-like ways after Sunday.

On a completely unrelated note, the boy from the First Kiss story? Totally Facebook-friended me the day after I posted it. I laughed for a few minutes, then spent a few worrying that he had somehow found my blog and hoped he didn't feel bad about being called "unremarkable," then realized I was being silly and accepted his friend request. Therefore, those of you who are my Facebook buddies can totally go stalk him if you like.

Not that I condone that sort of behavior, or think you're all that rabidly interested in a guy I "dated" for a few weeks in the seventh grade. I just know it's what I would do. Because I have way too much free time on my hands.

There is no logical way to conclude this post. I think I'll go bake something.

Playing Catch-Up

I just logged into Blogger to learn that I've lost a follower. Boo! Am I really that boring? I'm sorry, I'll try to step it up.

Then again, I thought the story about the woman who threatened to kick my ass in the Western Beef parking lot was fairly entertaining, but it seems nobody else did. Maybe I'm losing my touch.

Anyway, it's time for me to play catch up in a number of ways. Time is slipping through my fingers at an alarming rate, and there's just so much to do! Granted, I spent most of last week cleaning and preparing my apartment for a birthday party which, thanks to the lovely NYC winter weather, ended up being much smaller than expected--hence I am still swimming in crab dip and wondering if it would freeze well as I am on Day 1 of a 7 Day detox and I'm fairly certain that crab swimming in cream cheese and sour cream does not fall into the eating plan.

The party, despite the diminished numbers, was still fun. My parents were in town and my mother and the Lovely A proceeded to not-so-surreptitiously talk about my pitiable lack of a love life for a good chunk of the evening. I'll forgive the Lovely A because it was her anniversary, and my mother, well, she just can't help herself.

Oh, and then there's the little matter of A outing me as a blogger to my mother. Ahem. Yes. My mother claims that she knew, but unless I told her one night when I was exceptionally hammered, I don't see how that's possible. Either way, she is never getting the web address. EVER. (Yes, A, I am talking to you. N-E-V-E-R!) My mother does not need to hear about some of the stuff I talk about on here. It was bad enough when she found my vibrator in college. I don't think she needs to know that I've posted photos of it on the internet.

Incidentally, that little friend totally bit the dust last week. Less than a year and it's gone and taken the big dirt nap. Well, landfill nap, if you want to get technical. *sigh* That's just about the longest relationship I've had since I was 19. See kids? No matter what, it all ends in tears...

Christ I'm all over the place this afternoon. I'm blaming the fact that Fresh Direct failed me and had no delivery times available today, so I had to go into the city to get the ingredients for my detox soup... hence I couldn't start cooking it until 2:00ish so all I've eaten today is some fruit and right now it is simmering on my stove smelling absolutely DIVINE and there's not a damned thing I can do about it.

See? Isn't it pretty?

That was when everything was fresh and crispy. It's looking a little more wilty now, but still damned edible. I just hope it tastes as good as it smells! And I hope it cooks quickly because hunger does weird things to my brain. The director of the show I'm working on says that if it affects my comic timing he is force-feeding me a cheeseburger... wish me luck!

Speaking of the show, it goes up in two weeks! It's just a two day run as a fundraiser for the Rep company I'm working with, and most of the cast has performed it over 25 times... there's just a few of us who are "fill-in" actors, learning the whole thing in a very short period of time. Fun, but stressful!

Then, there's the $700 student loan payment bill that showed up yesterday and nearly gave me a heart attack. Thank goodness for unemployment deferment.

Like I said, all over the place.

I should probably quit while I'm ahead, yeah?

Yeah.

Crossover

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.

Ugh.

It was several.

I am not hungover in the traditional sense (yet. It could be one of those sneaky late-breaking hangovers, we'll see), but I am very tired and my voice is shot to hell.

While I had a great time waxing philosophical with the Lovely A about how we don't really smoke anymore--over half a pack of American Spirits--I am now in no way prepared to face my day, and all the lunacy that it holds in store.

I'm hoping a trip to McDonald's before rehearsal will fix that.

T.G.I... What day is it again?

Good grief, this month is slipping away from me faster than I thought possible! Which on one hand is a good thing, as my life will feel far less lunatic once November is over... on the other hand, the reason my life is so lunatic is that I've got a million things to do before the month is up and the days just keep disappearing!

Like, just for example, the paper that I realized only moments ago is due TOMORROW. Granted, it's a 2 page response to a storytelling performance I attended--a pittance in the world of academic writing. But I attended it last week. Let's hope my memory and the notes I took hold up until I get a chance to write that paper tomorrow morning.

Because right now? Tonight? I am going for a drink. Or several. Probably several, considering I am meeting the Lovely A, and it has long since been proven that "just one" is not in our vocabulary. Case in point, the last time she and I met up for a casual drink on a Friday ended up with me pouring her into a taxi at 4am, after speaking to her boyfriend on the phone to assure him that yes, she would be getting home okay. Why was I the one to determine this? I'm not sure, as I was certainly in no state to be making judgment calls... but I digress.

That being said, before Tuesday the 25th I need to:

1. Write 2 response papers.

2. Find time to see a play, written in the last 25 years, about which to write the second response paper.

3. Survive Hell Week for the play with the kiddos. (6 days with no less than 4 hours of rehearsal on each given day, oh my lord).

4. Come up with a 15 minute lesson covering some aspect of Shakespeare's plays as, hello! I have an audition for the one company in NYC that I would kill to work with!!. And I have a week to plan for it.

5. Nail that job audition.

Then, after the 25th, there's...

- Thanksgiving

- NaNoWriMo (I past the 25k mark! Halfway there!)

- Oh, right, THESIS!!

- And a play. That I have to write. For a grade.


Needless to say, this little frog is feelin' da pressure. Hence the drinking.

Happy Weekend!

Bits 'n' Bobs

Wow, food porn sure brings the lurkers out the woodwork! Welcome, new friends, make yourselves comfortable :)

I will absolutely honor the requests for recipes and the like, but not today, as I have a wedding to attend and lots of stuff to get done before I leave--like writing 1700 words for NaNoWriMo (current wordcount: 13,133... over 1/4 of the way there!), since lord knows I'll be too drunk to do it when I get home.

So, on to the randomness:

I think John Stewart has a bit of a man-crush on Paul Rudd (who could blame him?), but that's okay, as I think I've got a bit of a girl-crush on Rachel Maddow.

Grilled salami & pepper jack on homemade Italian bread = possibly the awesomest sandwich ever. I recommend you go make one right now! Provided, of course, that you know how to bake bread...

I wrote to Cute Conference Guy last night, and got a response this morning. While the response was prompt and friendly, it didn't quite seem like an "oh, I remember thinking you were hot and hope this is an entryway into further communication" type email, so.... I don't know. I will write back and see what comes of it, but I'm not holding my breath.

The wedding I'm attending tonight is one that I've been looking forward to all year. I've known this couple since I first moved to NYC, and they might just be my favourite couple ever. Also, they manage to throw fabulous parties in tiny Brooklyn apartments, so I have high hopes for this evening. Let's just hope my phantom, here-one-minute-gone-the-next cold stays away for the evening.

And the new shoes I got to wear? Beyond fabulous! The red is a little darker than the picture, but paired with my vintage 1950s royal blue velvet party dress? They're going to look killer. (And if they don't, I've got plenty of plain black pumps to fall back on.)

Also wedding-related, I am currently attempting to recreate this look, which I have managed twice before with minimal difficulty... but right now my hopes are not high. Fingers crossed that it works, or I will be doing an emergency wash-under-the-faucet-and-flat-iron before leaving the house.

In case you couldn't tell, I like getting dressed up for other people's weddings. Perhaps because it's doubtful I'll ever have one of my own (nor do I want one, for that matter), but mostly because it's an excellent excuse to get all decked out and remind myself (and everyone else) just how nicely I clean up when I put my mind to it.

I hope the weather holds out. It's fairly grim and grey right now, but I think it's supposed to brighten up later.

Hmmm... it appears that most of this randomness was wedding-related. Guess I had a theme after all!

Right, off to be productive.

Happy Friday!

More Reasons Men Should Be Lining Up At My Door...

As we all muddle our way through the day, dealing with post-election depression (it's sort of like post-partum depression, only without being responsible for an infant), I thought I would provide you all with a little fluff to brighten your day (and whet your appetite).

Behold!  Further evidence that my continuing singleness is absolutely criminal.

Exhibit A
Homemade Kaiser Rolls.



Not bad considering they were my first attempt.

Exhibit B
Homemade Bagels


Proof that I actually did it myself.



Um, hello?  Who wouldn't want to wake up to fresh bagels on a Sunday without having to leave the house?

Exhibit C
Homemade Pizza



I've been making pizza at least once a week, sometimes more, as I continue my search for the ultimate crust recipe.

Exhibit D
Herbed Chicken with Roasted Savory Sweet Potatoes

 

A.) Sweet potatoes are a million times better when made with herbs and spices vs. sugar and marshmallows; and

B.) It's moderately depressing eating a rockin' meal like this alone while watching Bones on your DVR.

Exhibit E
Pumpkin Ravioli... FROM SCRATCH!!

Seriously. From.  SCRATCH.

Does this one even require further justification as an illustration of my awesomeness?  No?  Good.

Exhibit F
Behold... My Halloween costume:



Okay, okay, so it's not food... but only, like, 3 people actually got to see my costume on Halloween, so I felt the need to share. Especially considering that if I keep eating all of this fabulous food by myself, I'll never fit into that costume again!

I'm the smiley face :)

And so here I sit, basking in the smell of the two ginormous loaves of Italian bread currently baking in my oven, and contemplating what I will do with the leftovers after cooking an entire chicken just for myself.

Expect another installment in this series before the week is out.

P.S. - What Have I Gotten Myself Into?

50,000 : The word count goal for midnight on November 30th.

1,930 : Words so far.

30 : Minutes spent trying to log onto massively overloaded website to update my word count.

1 : Rooms cleaned before writing commenced (because my apartment has reached such a disaster level as requires cleaning rooms one at a time)

2 : Other massive writing projects to be completed (or nearly completed) during the month of November (a play, and, oh yeah! A freaking THESIS which is going to have to be completely re-planned due to fuckery of the University's review board.)

3 : Days since cold symptoms first appeared, which seem to be neither increasing nor diminishing

240 : milligrams of sudafed consumed in the last 24 hours.

11ish : Number of times I stood up and immediately got a headache/felt dizzy/both.

0 : Number of directions I can move my neck without feeling stiffness and/or pain.

2 : Stores visited in search of candy corn, all for naught!

4 : Episodes of first season of the original Beverly Hills 90210 watched.

6 : Times wondered in which season David Silver's annoying little friend accidentally shoots himself.

2 : Incorrect actress identifications (Hot Math Teacher's Wife ≠ Erica Hahn on Greys, and Cindy Walsh ≠ the mother from "Son in Law," I blame the sudafed).

3 : Times I've almost ended this post, the come up with something else to add to the list.

29 : Minutes since I should have gone to bed. 36 after edits.

I Think the Universe is Trying to Tell Me Something...

...or else my body is just falling apart.

Last week I made it through Week 1 of Operation: Get Froggy Jogging with my legs (and soul) intact.  Granted, I was slightly worried that I was going to puke by the end of the last day's cardio... but I didn't.  So all was well.  Even my aching muscles were far less achy by the end of the week.

I took Monday off, and yesterday I did some simple strength training at home.  Today I hauled my ass out of bed with the idea of getting to the gym and back before the Fresh Direct guy was scheduled to arrive.  As I hustled my yawning self into the city to go to the gym and attack the first cardio session of Week 2, I noticed that my right hamstring felt a little tight.  Nothing major, just a little muscle tension.  I figured that my warm-up would work that tension right out and I'd be good to go.

Well I made it through 5 minutes of moderate walking with no trouble, and the first 2 minute power-walk was also problem free.  But the minute my right leg hit the ground after bumping the treadmill up to jogging pace, I felt a sharp pain in my hamstring.

Not oh-my-god-I'm-going-to-die-I-can't-walk-watch-me-crumple-and-get-dragged-under-the-treadmill pain, mind you... but still not pleasant.  I continued for about 5 more seconds, waiting to see if the stabbing sensation would subside, and it did not. So a mere 7 minutes into my workout I had to call it quits and head over to the mats to give a light stretch to my aching leg before changing back into my street clothes and exiting the premises no more than 20 minutes after I had entered.

The positive end of this incident is that I now had time to run the few errands I wanted to run in the city and still make it home in time to greet my Fresh Direct delivery.

The bad news is... well... my fucking leg hurts!  And until this situation rectifies itself--which could be a few days, or a few weeks--my workout plan has been put on hold.  And since this is an incremental plan, if I take too much time off, I'll have to start all the way back at the beginning!

So is the Universe telling me that training to jog is simply a bad idea?  Or is this just an extension of my body's latent desire to completely fail me?

I've been running on empty for weeks now.  I have a hard time getting out of bed in the mornings and I spend most of the day in a daze--I only manage to really rouse myself when I go to my internship and the gym, otherwise I am mentally and physically wiped out.  Yet at the same time, my insomnia is worse than ever and I find it increasingly difficult to fall asleep.

I went to the doctor on Monday, and his initial diagnosis was... ready?  "A sleeping problem."  No shit Sherlock, tell me something I don't know!  They're running some blood tests to see if it's anemia (my guess) or thyroid (my mom had it) or some other treatable issue that's leaving me so drained.

Until I know more, the score currently stand at: Body - 2, Froggy - 0.
 

The Hardest Part

The first half of my day was disarmingly quiet.

I pulled my lazy ass out of bed before 10am, which is a vast improvement over recent days, especially considering that I was sleeping with Prince Ambien to help curb the relentless insomnia that's been plaguing me as of late. Spent some time on the phone with my phone company, figuring out my ridiculous bill, only to discover that I was being charged $15/month for the past 3 months for a service I never asked for--with the resultant refund dropping my current cell phone bill to 68-cents. I should have asked for a framed copy, it will never be that low again.

Spent some time tackling the massive task that is catching up on all of your blogs--some of you will notice an enormous slew of comments as I read everything from September. Sadly most of the Summer will have to rest in the archives, waiting for a rainy day--I simply don't have enough time! To those who have not yet received the comment influx, don't feel bad... it's coming! And my selection of which blogs to read is entirely arbitrary and has nothing to do with... well... anything. I'll get to everyone in due course.

Something that I've seen several of you mention, however, is some sort of Bloggy Bridal Shower for the lovely Jess, which my out-of-the-loop self knew nothing about... so Congratulations Jess!! My shower gift will be to make your blog next on my to-read list. I know it's not much, but I do it with love :)

The day picked up this afternoon, which marked my first venture into my new internship... and I looooved it! Working with high school kids on Shakespeare is already proving to be a fabulous experience and I can't wait to continue. I do have to laugh because the girl who is playing the role I played in this show in high school was annoying me at times... and then I realized that what was annoying me was absolutely something I would have done at her age. So I had to suck it up and face my own demons, so to speak.

Which isn't to say that I didn't tell her to knock it off... but I said it much more nicely than I might have otherwise :)

I returned home this evening and putzed about, trying not to freak myself out before the Skype interview I was having (had) at 10:00... with Japan.

I've been in the process of applying for a job teaching in Japan, using Drama to improve the English language skills of elementary school children. Or so I thought. What became clear during the interview was that my perception of what this position entailed was not correct. I had thought it would be in a day school setting, working in conjunction with an English teacher and teaching Drama classes to enhance what was being learned in the English class. That is, apparently, not the case.

The school is actually an afternoon/evening school that is just for English. And I would be the only teacher. Head Teacher, if you will.

This, in effect, terrifies me. Which is not to say that I've been offered the job. I haven't. But I am now seriously questioning whether or not I am actually qualified for it. The school seems to think I am, obviously, or they wouldn't have interviewed me. But I still worry.

There is also the whole idea of moving--for a year--to a country where I do not speak the language. The woman interviewing me even told me that they've had teachers in the past--particularly the women--who got intensely lonely and/or homesick and left after 3 months. I understand she's just covering her bases by telling me this but it's not exactly comforting.

All of my friends whom I've spoken to about it are so wonderful and encouraging. They all say "if anyone can do it, it's you!" Sometimes, however, I find it difficult to maintain the faith in myself that others find so easily. It's amusing, in a way, that others carry such conviction about an aspect of myself I often doubt--namely, my independence.

I shouldn't get myself so worked up over a job I haven't even been offered. I suppose I'll just have to wait and see. But as Tom Petty says... The waiting is the hardest part.