Me: Please tell me that isn't the Durst version? Coworker: You mean there's an original version? Me: [agast] Uh, yeah! The Who. Coworker: Really?This is why American Idol works, people. And from today, a random phone call:
Me: [picking up the ringing phone] Hello? Old Lady: Hello. Who's calling? Me: Um, you called me.It went on for another minute trying to explain that I was not whoever it was she was trying to reach. ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- -------- AUTHOR: My Something TITLE: Last night I dreamt that somebody raped me STATUS: Draft ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: 1 ALLOW PINGS: 0 PRIMARY CATEGORY: DATE: 1/23/2004 06:40:00 PM ----- BODY: "No hope but no harm. Just another false alarm." I've been pretty sick with a head cold the past few days. Last night I couldn't sleep but I remember it was about 2:45 am when I drifted off. It all felt so timeless and lingering. I was laying in bed and I was with a young man, skinny, blond with freckles. The feeling was giddiness, almost like it were my first date or first kiss. And he kissed me as if he had never kissed someone before and it was this horrible awful sucking kiss. And it continued and continued. I moved my hands to his face to slow him down but before I knew it he had my hands pinned to the sides near my head and he was on top of me. Then inside, pushing nearly through me. Instantaneously, I realized I was being raped and told myself to leave my body. I closed my eyes and everything went gray and I couldn't feel what was going on outside me. A few seconds later, I opened my eyes from my dream but could still feel it all over and wondered if I really had been attacked. Had someone entered my apartment? Was he still there? Was it still going on? I was pressed so deep into my bed, I struggled to sit up to see what was going on. The clock read 3:30 am and I knew I wasn't in enough of a deep sleep to have such a dream so it had to be real. But there was no one. ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- -------- AUTHOR: My Something TITLE: Today's Link STATUS: Draft ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: 1 ALLOW PINGS: 0 PRIMARY CATEGORY: DATE: 1/22/2004 07:57:00 AM ----- BODY: This isn't really the coolest thing but it is interesting. A Real-Life Debate on Free Expression in a Cyberspace City (free registration required) I don't know anything about Sims Online. I mean, I know what it is but I don't really know how it works or how you play. But the fact that 80,000 people are doing this boggles my mind. I'm sure for many of these people, Sims Online is the only interaction they get. Sometimes I get down on myself because I live my life internally (to avoid fear and rejection) but jesus, at least I'm not doing this. It's nice to know I haven't hit bottom. Yet. ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- -------- AUTHOR: My Something TITLE: New stuff soon. I swear. STATUS: Draft ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: 1 ALLOW PINGS: 0 PRIMARY CATEGORY: DATE: 1/21/2004 07:35:00 AM ----- BODY: So I'm doing this whole registering my own domain and getting a hosting provider and signing up with blogging software thing. And its going to take a little longer than I anticipated for me to learn how to do all the html stuff. Plus, I finally turned on the heat in my apartment last weekend and now I'm ridiculously sick, sicker than I've been in a long time. But I'll keep reading and experimenting and whatnot until I figure this blasted thing out. Soon you will have a vastly gorgeous and improved site to read, worship, stalk, whichever. Until then I promise to post what I like to call "The coolest thing I found on the internet today". And I will always give credit where credit is due since I rarely find things on my own. Today's coolest thing is Music Plasma and it comes to me via MetaFilter. Enjoy! ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- -------- AUTHOR: My Something TITLE: Heavy Sleeper STATUS: Draft ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: 1 ALLOW PINGS: 0 PRIMARY CATEGORY: DATE: 1/15/2004 11:29:00 PM ----- BODY: I am not a morning person. Waking up is the hardest thing for me. I have an alarm clock that has two alarms scheduled to go off at 6:15 am and then at 6:40 am. The clock is on my dresser so I have to get out of bed to turn it off. A few days ago, I turned the volume on the alarm up. Not sure why exactly. This morning at about 6:25 am I heard the alarm but it sounded different. As I got up to hit the snooze button, I realized the phone was also ringing. Within seconds it dawned on me how loud the alarm really was and that since I never give out my home number that phone call could only be from one person: my downstairs neighbor. The one whose apartment I flooded, the one who I gave my phone numbers to in case she needed to reach me. And I quite quickly turned the ringer off and my alarm down slightly. And returned to bed. ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- -------- AUTHOR: My Something TITLE: Comments are totally gone STATUS: Draft ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: 1 ALLOW PINGS: 0 PRIMARY CATEGORY: DATE: 1/13/2004 10:08:00 PM ----- BODY: Well, my commenting system is wiped out and who knows for how long. But the good thing is I registered my URL today and signed up with a hosting company. I feel oh so accomplished. But seriously, you know you have a problem when you have to restrict your computer use at home. I MADE myself not turn on the laptop until I had finally fixed the button and pocket on my winter coat. The button was a no-brainer, the pocket a little trickier. But I did the best job I could do and now I can use my right pocket and not worry about stuff falling into the lining. Woo! ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- -------- AUTHOR: My Something TITLE: Use Your Delusion I STATUS: Draft ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: 1 ALLOW PINGS: 0 PRIMARY CATEGORY: DATE: 1/12/2004 08:19:00 PM ----- BODY: One of the reasons I was in a funky funk last week was I found out someone got my office. I use "my" loosely. You know how you get these ideas in your head and after a while they start to actually seem like they might happen. Well, in that part of my brain (I think I use like 40% of my brain making up shit like this) where the imagination is rich and fruitful, I create the most elaborate scenarios in which I, of course, am the star. In this particular joint, the person above me was either promoted or left and I was offered her position. But I wouldn't want her office, I would want the empty office near the cube row to be closer to my group. In fact, I would demand it as part of my negotiations. And I would have all my demands met, by Job. But last week, She moved in. Someone new came in and took that office that was meant to be mine. Mine, I tells ya. And sister has a huge ass TV in there too. Today I noticed she had a really nice corkboard as well. Though a cruel jolt, probably the best thing for me. I have yet to meet Her but when I do, I will receive her with my icy darts of hatred look. ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- -------- AUTHOR: My Something TITLE: A Little Misunderstanding STATUS: Draft ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: 1 ALLOW PINGS: 0 PRIMARY CATEGORY: DATE: 1/11/2004 10:18:00 PM ----- BODY: Everyone has them from time to time. But its weird to have a misunderstanding with yourself. See, when I wrote below that I would "post on blog once a day" what I meant to write or what I thought I wrote was post on Monday, Wednesday and Saturday. Clearly, I have a problem even communicating with myself. But I will try very hard to stick to what I wrote regardless of what I meant. The good news is that I have completed two of the tasks on my list. I have completed the knitting on one stockinette square for the baby blanket. Not sure if I mentioned this before, but the blanket is for a former client who is having her first baby. She's due at the end of March so time is fleeting. Or at least it feels as if it is. And today, I organized my hall closet, the chest and threw out stuff I didn't need. There wasn't much to throw out but what there was was bulky so it freed up some room. Before next week's end, I'll try for another two items on the list. Yesterday was spent at the movies. Saw 21 Grams and Something's Gotta Give and enjoyed both. I have like 8 movies on the docket to review for the website but I don't think I will do it yet. Reviewing and updating those pages take so much time. I think these outstanding reviews will be the impetus to actually getting my own URL up and going. ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- -------- AUTHOR: My Something TITLE: Obligatory Wednesday Post STATUS: Draft ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: 1 ALLOW PINGS: 0 PRIMARY CATEGORY: DATE: 1/07/2004 10:55:00 PM ----- BODY: I'm all twisted up. Good stuff and bad stuff happened today and yet, I'm left feeling really shitty. Work was ok, then some weird stuff happened. So work was pretty much a wash. Then I have this personal thing going on which I won't discuss here. It was going really well or really well in the way I had built it up in my head. Insert wrench and now I'm all down about it, my personal thing. And to top things off, I'm involved in a relationship that is currently once again on the downside of the cycle. I'm just so sick of it and really I'm sure I'm at the point where I'm going to do something nuts which will probably, most definitely change it or end it. And what sickens me is I don't care; I just don't want things to continue to suck. OK, I said I would write on Wednesday and I did. So there. ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- -------- AUTHOR: My Something TITLE: P3: The Decline of the Bloggers STATUS: Draft ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: 1 ALLOW PINGS: 0 PRIMARY CATEGORY: DATE: 1/05/2004 08:04:00 PM ----- BODY: Procrastinator 3: I'll be back. Probably. Maybe. Perhaps if I feel okay, I might get to it later. Or never. Whatever. Today was the first day back in the office after being out for 10 days straight (I'm counting weekends). 10 days all to myself and the little projects that I have created to fill the emptiness in my simple life. And 10 days to fuck it all away and not do anything. Not one thing. Sure, I saw five movies and balanced my checkbook. But it all came secondary to eating, watching TV and sleeping at all kinds of ridiculous hours. I'm an adult and you wouldn't think I needed someone to keep after me. But clearly I do. So here's a list, a very detailed list, of what I need to do in the very near future.
January Blog was 6 days old. Tried to find voice. Posted about period, bathroom thoughts. Discoursed on the weird BO smell in the bank in office building. Started ordering groceries online from FreshDirect. Added pages for Notes To Self and Mojo; lame-o pages abandoned soon thereafter. Wrote about father. Broke down reality television; kept promise on shows-I'll-never-watch. Revealed Cartman's parentage. Indulged in too much romantic nostalgia.
February Hardcore knitting took control. Threw birthday weekend for a friend complete with family and friend visits. Saw Les Miserable before it closed. Started reading Television Without Pity; work becomes completely ignored at this point. Signed up for Amazon's "completely worthless" Affiliate program; felt like a whore. Bought an iPod; felt like a high-priced whore. Found out aunt had cancer; solicited for mojo. Wrote about brother. Woken up by the smell of building on fire. Used the phrase "big daps" correctly. Dreamt I was black and with LL Cool J breaking Martin Lawrence out of jail. Freaked out Borders employee by pretending to be kind of Federal agent; it was cool. Started the grudging task of tagging MP3s.
March Celebrated third anniversary of moving to NYC. Got stuck in snowstorm trying to get to NH; had amazing dinner and hotel stay in Boston instead. Seemed to lose mind. Declared love for Clay Aiken's voice; momentarily tasted vomit in mouth. Bought kickass slippers from EasySpirit. Mentioned James Earl Jones dancing in Verizon commercials; the mystified masses flock to site for answers, of which there are none. Don't Fuck With Me Friday born and then quickly smothered with the pillow of apathy. Totally dissed What Not To Wear, a program that's now regularly recorded. Broke the news of gay Goldfish crackers. Shared salad dressing dispenser invention with the group. Announced "War Sucks". Repressed raging loins with Spongebob Squarepants. Recapped the Academy Awards with alarming wit and detail. Attended knitting workshop in CT; exposed sorted underbelly of the knitting community.
April Become addicted to caramel macchiatos from Starbucks. Revealed love for factory tours and relived childhood country ham exhibit experience. Tendency to swallow large pieces of food is uncovered. Snowed and it's all the Cassadines' fault. Saw neighborhood crush for the second time and also the last time. Dubbed University of Buffalo "Land of the Fugly". Railed against MTV"s Sorority Life and Fraternity Life; not surprisingly, continued to watch. Went on hiatus but still posted. Mentioned American Idol one time too many; lose 21 grams. Invited kung fu masters to spare down on King Street; no RSVPs as of yet. Encouraged reader participation by posting "if" questions. Received a practically free vacation from friend; remembered there was good in the world.
May Recapped the best weekend have had in a long time. Lived through first bikini wax. Went on the above free vacation and had a good time but missed the city something awful. Had a panic attack at the Piggly Wiggly because it was so big. Admitted to doing work in underwear. Discovered Port Charles, a General Hospital spin-off about vampires; no, seriously, vampires. Lamented the end of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and blasted Joss Whedon. Wrote hypothetical commencement speech. Admitted the iPod was a waste of money; lived and learned. Had the worst 33 hours of life.
June Transcribed the big "Fuck You" quote from Spike Lee's 25th Hour. Reviewed upcoming summer reality shows that will undoubtedly be watched and cause disappointment. Bought first lottery ticket; described life post-jackpot win. Recounted numerous knee injuries. Had an erotic dream about Jake Gyllenhaal. Perplexed by the movie A Passage to India. Wrote penis reviews. Joined Enemyster, the most rad group rant site ever. Got computer virus, spread virus, then tried to spread the cure. Wrote an open letter to Dave Grohl regarding his upcoming wedding; site visits jump remarkably. Bounced back with a prince of a guy. Watched too many teen movies in one day and reviewed the cute actors in them.
July Coveted homemade guacamole. Welcomed the homosexual population to NYC. Created own superhero, Arena; reveal shocking script-writing dreams. Transcribed the Architect scene from The Matrix Reloaded; searched on the Internet and realized it had already been done like a hundred times. Declared that "I am a riddle inside a mystery wrapped in an enigma". Swept off feet by sexy new relationship . . . with a digital video recorder cable box; world changed forever. Named said DVR cable box "Earl" and created new verb "to earl"; Oxford still to be contacted.
August Weatherman Dave Price missing mystery solved and then quickly forgotten. Reviewed The Corrections; one word: overrated. Recounted guest DJ experience from college senior year; lamented never getting into radio. Realized more must be said about Jordyn Blum, Dave Grohl's wife; investigated and revealed the un-Foo ways of band's website. Saw American Splendor for free; considered sending them $10 anyway, it was that good. Experienced the blackout with fear, solitude, emptiness, sadness and food rationing. Freaked out at cousin-in-law's birthday party and made horrible, sly exit. Contemplated hypnotism. Revealed lust for teen sensation, Shia LaBeouf and extreme like for tween megastar, Hilary Duff. Exposed costly yet unnecessary pedestrian sign switch out occurring all over the city. Saw Amy Sedaris in the village; inner squeal unleashed.
September Found Prince William to be pornographically delicious. Discussed ladies room etiquette and personal toilet habits. Recounted September 11, 2001 on the two-year anniversary; what was, what is and what will be. Earned quasi-promotion; blogging frequency took a nosedive. Prayed in Ohio. Transcribed a favorite scene from Spongebob Squarepants; readership took a nosedive.
October Received wonderful praise from a new co-worker; felt amazing. Bought kickass Pumas in Philly. Went to see first live show in forever, The Strokes; momentarily felt "in". Used the word "shan't". Had another fabulous weekend in the city. Traveled a ridiculous amount for work. Went to Six Flags Over New England; went for the free rides, stayed for the fried dough. Felt so low needed to invite someone to spend the weekend; binge eating averted. Found out colleagues have told boss how awesome I am; pride beaming ensued. Made beef stew for the first time.
November Bought first rap CD ever, made statement of such fact and simultaneously, declared whiteness. Overflowed bathtub, flooded own apartment and damaged the two floors below; much fretting and hand wrenching also occurred. Attended close friend's 30th birthday party; was able to wait an hour before succumbing to anxiety attack. Recapped poignant episode of Joan of Arcadia; felt epiphany. Shared stew recipe for all to enjoy. Published Movies To See list; started saving money to see said list of movies. Finished reading Fast Food Nation; stopped eating hamburger meat entirely. Made own Thanksgiving dinner; luckily can't sue self for food poisoning.
December Decided to leave Blogger for more intermediate pastures; worked on that with a little help from a blog mentor. Started making a real dent in Movies To See list with 4 movies in one weekend; felt proud and pathetic all at the same time. Reread the past year's entries; realized writing is pretty good and best of all, entertaining. Reconsidered moving blogging higher up on the personal priority list. ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- -------- AUTHOR: My Something TITLE: Quandary STATUS: Draft ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: 1 ALLOW PINGS: 0 PRIMARY CATEGORY: DATE: 12/22/2003 07:47:00 PM ----- BODY: Here’s the situation: A new vice president started a couple of months ago. She’s in a department that has minimal interaction with mine as far as our work is concerned. However, her office is close to my department and we are always running into each other. For some bizarre reason, she was never brought around and introduced or came around on her own to introduce herself. So while I know who she is, we’ve never formally “met”. We always run into each other in the copy annex (you know, where the copiers, fax machines, coffee and water dispensers are) and we say hello, exchange formalities, whatnot. But technically, I shouldn’t “know” her and she shouldn’t “know” me. Then last week, she gave me a congratulations because my picture was in a trade magazine. That was weird because that means she knows my name yet we’ve never “met”. And at this point it would be really lame for one of us to say, “by the way, my name is . . .” This may sound completely bizarre to you non-corporate, non-office types but I really don’t know what I should do, if anything. I should probably just forget about it. But it still feels weird. ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- -------- AUTHOR: My Something TITLE: STATUS: Draft ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: 1 ALLOW PINGS: 0 PRIMARY CATEGORY: DATE: 12/19/2003 07:26:00 PM ----- BODY: Check out the rest here. ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- -------- AUTHOR: My Something TITLE: The Modern Drunk's Guide to Dating (Women) Part I STATUS: Draft ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: 1 ALLOW PINGS: 0 PRIMARY CATEGORY: DATE: 12/18/2003 10:25:00 PM ----- BODY: Too funny not to share. Check this out at Maccers. ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- -------- AUTHOR: My Something TITLE: Let's Go To the Movies! STATUS: Draft ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: 1 ALLOW PINGS: 0 PRIMARY CATEGORY: DATE: 12/14/2003 08:48:00 PM ----- BODY: Yesterday, I was forced into the masses of holiday shoppers because of the annual office ritual known as Secret Santa. I'm not being grinchy; I love to give and receive gifts. I just hate dealing with fucking tourists invading my city via the "day trip" filled with the promise of New York shopping and possibly a show. Don't these tards know not to shop here. New York is way more expensive that their suburban shops. And the way they crowd the street and stop in the middle of the sidewalk. OK, I've got to stop; I'm getting all riled up. Knowing my coworker like I do, I knew I had to hit a toy store for a little cartoon something for his cube. He loves the Simpsons so I thought I could get him a couple of small figurines. The only place to go was Toys 'R' Us and the one at Union Square. You couldn't get me to the one in Times Square if you paved Broadway with caramel and chocolate. I got up early enough to get there before all hell broke loose. But the thing is their Simpsons section is sparse. I found a talking Homer and it was $7 over the Secret Santa limit but I was at a loss. When I was walking toward the escalator, I noticed a full Lord of the Rings display. And that's when I found him. An 11" deluxe poseable figure of Aragorn complete with "highly detailed weapons". It was only $2 over the limit and I'm 95% sure that my co-worker likes LOTR. I suppose he can always exchange it. Then I went to Barnes & Noble to return and exchange some books. Let me tell you: their return policy has gotten a lot stricter since I worked there. Used to be you could return a book if you didn't like it. If it was still in sellable condition and you had your receipt you could get your money back. Now, if you don't have your receipt, they mail the store credit to you. I suppose a lot of people took advantage. Me being one of them but then again, I was just taking a nibble out of the B&N pie after they took a chunk out of me. I had to make my way through the Frozen Lake of the River Cocytus to escape that retail hell. Then it was on to the movies. The UA at Union Square is a pretty nice theatre. Plenty of screens, stadium seating and clean restrooms. First I saw Master and Commander. [On a side note, I've decided not to review movies unless I feel strongly about them one way or another.] It was alright, I suppose. There were so many characters and some of the battle/fight scenes were shot so tight that it was hard to tell exactly what was going on. I didn't feel invested in the characters and didn't feel there was anything extraordinary about the film. I took a small break and then saw The Matrix Revolutions, which I've reviewed here. Today I had to keep the movie going momentum going. So despite the miserable snow, I spent the day at Loew's Lincoln Square. I saw The Cooler and Love Actually, reviewed here and here. I know that may sound like a lot but I needed to make some headway on my Oscar Movie list. All in all, it was a pretty good weekend and I feel pretty accomplished. ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- -------- AUTHOR: My Something TITLE: STATUS: Draft ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: 1 ALLOW PINGS: 0 PRIMARY CATEGORY: DATE: 12/07/2003 11:15:00 PM ----- BODY: Schott's Original Miscellany I bought this book a while ago and I cannot recommend it enough. It's not a book I can review because it's a reference book of sorts. Basically, 150 pages of just random trivia: Euro note specifications, atmospheric layers, classical column types, a categorization of Shakespeare's plays, traditional alcohol measurements, etc. etc. Did I mention it was random? Anyway, I highly recommend this as a book to have lying about or to buy as a gift for someone who loves trivia shows or games. I hope Ben Schott does a new volume every few years. ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- -------- AUTHOR: My Something TITLE: Moving On STATUS: Draft ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: 1 ALLOW PINGS: 0 PRIMARY CATEGORY: DATE: 12/04/2003 10:49:00 PM ----- BODY: Well, it's about that time. Time to say goodbye to Blogger. I knew it would happen one day and luckily I have someone helping me. Stennie from Stennieville.com is helping me and holding my hand a bit as I start the transition from Blogger to my own site. There's so many things to do and know and I don't know where to start or even the entire process. And I'm lucky enough to have Stennie as my blog mentor. If you have yet to visit her site, please do now. ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- -------- AUTHOR: My Something TITLE: Turkey Blackout STATUS: Draft ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: 1 ALLOW PINGS: 0 PRIMARY CATEGORY: DATE: 11/29/2003 08:16:00 PM ----- BODY: As some of you may know, I’m pretty much a loner. I don’t do the usual holiday stuff or family crap. During the holidays/birthdays, I usually just bunker down with a bunch of movies and passively pity myself. So for this Thanksgiving, I’m not going to cook a turkey because hey, it’s just me here. But I was talking to Perrin about post-thanksgiving turkey sandwiches and the proper way to make them (whole wheat bread, mayo, turkey, stuffing and cranberry sauce) and decided I sure could go for one of those. So I ordered up a turkey breast from FreshDirect and scrambled around my neighborhood to get the right ingredients for my mother’s sausage and potato stuffing. Houston, we have a turkey. The only problem was that I didn’t have a meat thermometer and so I wasn’t 100% sure that I got the meat to 185 degrees, the temperature needed to kill the stuff that can give you food poisoning. But I cooked it longer than called for and I was pretty sure that did the trick. I carried my turkey- and carb-laden plate to the dining room (ie. the living room) and dug in. It came out really good and the stuffing tasted pretty close to my mom’s. I cleaned up the dishes and the kitchen, then returned to the couch to watch a movie. I would tell you what that movie was if I hadn’t immediately passed out for the next two hours. Surprisingly, I woke refreshed. I know about L-tryptophan and that it can make you sleepy. I also know that when you eat a lot the blood goes from your brain to your stomach, thus causing sleepiness. So my afternoon nap wasn’t strange. However, the next day, I had a turkey sandwich and immediately lost 3 hours of my day on the couch again. The turkey sandwich wasn’t even all that big. So now, I’m thinking maybe I didn’t cook the turkey enough or it was shot full of extra L-tryptophan. Because three hours gone for one sandwich, that ain’t right. I have a lot of leftovers for sandwiches but I’m afraid to bring one into work. One sandwich and I’ll be passed out on my desk. The last thing I need is be that obvious about not doing work. ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- -------- AUTHOR: My Something TITLE: STATUS: Draft ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: 1 ALLOW PINGS: 0 PRIMARY CATEGORY: DATE: 11/25/2003 10:52:00 PM ----- BODY: "There's shit in the meat." This is what happens when I decide to read. I find out things like there is fecal matter in ground beef. Things I don't want to know. Things that prevent me from ever eating another hamburger ever again. I guess it's good; I should eat less red meat. But burgers . . . c'mon why did it have to be that? Don't read Fast Food Nation if you would like to continue to eat hamburgers and live in blissful ignorance. ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- -------- AUTHOR: My Something TITLE: The Half Diet STATUS: Draft ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: 1 ALLOW PINGS: 0 PRIMARY CATEGORY: DATE: 11/23/2003 01:27:00 PM ----- BODY: Eat better and get some exercise. Sounds easy, doesn't it? Well, it ain't so all of you doctors out there can just fuck off. For christ sakes, that's the worst off-hand advice I've ever heard. You can't say that to a person after nearly 20 years of not eating right and not exercising. Do you think that after hearing that the person is going to say "Well, goddamn, I never thought of it that way. They sure taught you a thing or two at that fancy medical school of yours. I'm cured!!!" If losing weight were that easy, we wouldn't be the fattest nation in the world. Actually, I think we may be second after those bloated French fuckers but don't quote me on it. I got to thinking about what my problems are. 1) I don't exercise and a regime is surely not to follow. 2) I do eat right but I eat too much. I'm an emotional eater and that's what has been my downfall since I was 10. So since exercise is pretty much out of the question, I decided to embark on the Half Diet. It lasted about 4 meals but I hope to be on it soon. It basically works like this: whatever I am served or serve myself, I can only eat half. I must throw out the other half. Now if I want more later, that's ok. But I need this buffer zone to ask myself "Am I really still hungry enough to get up and get something else?" When I first tried it, I was traveling and eating room service and eating out. That first night, I ordered room service. And like all restaurants these days, portions are doubled. But what do I do? I eat nearly all of it because I hate to waste food and I was lonely. The next day I started with breakfast, eating only my bacon and toast. Then for lunch, I had half a sandwich. The next day, I had half my Chicken Cesar salad and for dinner, only half my chicken sandwich. I felt full but not disgustingly full. While it didn't last long, it wasn't because of the diet but me that I had to go back to my usual eating for 1 and a half. I got my period the next day and for the next week, I don't deny myself anything until the severe cramps and bloating goes away. After Thanksgiving, I'll try my Half Diet again. We'll see how it goes. ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- -------- AUTHOR: My Something TITLE: STATUS: Draft ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: 1 ALLOW PINGS: 0 PRIMARY CATEGORY: DATE: 11/21/2003 11:14:00 PM ----- BODY: Product Warning If you are even tempted to purchase the conditioner to the left, consider yourself warned. Sure it has a cool name, cool color and higher price tag leading one to believe that perhaps it could be a salon product. But one would be wrong. In fact, if your salon uses this product, you should run, not walk, screaming and flailing your arms. I am a hair product whore. So much so that I had to add to my "How to Save Money" list, "Do not purchase expensive hair products." Back to why Control Freak Conditioner sucks major amounts of ass. First off, it foams. What conditioner foams? Second, it doesn't work. I have really good, thick yet smooth hair and it does not condition it at all. When I comb it through the comb gets stuck. That is not supposed to happen. And third, the smell. It has the most sickeningly sweet scent of something like a strawberry kiwi mango amalgam. I smelled it in the drugstore and didn't think it would be an issue. But the sweetness is overwhelming. It's sweeter than kool-aid, not the kind with the sugar already in it but the kind from those cheap ass Wyler packets that you can add tons of sugar to. Yeah, it's that sweet. ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- -------- AUTHOR: My Something TITLE: Music to Snog By STATUS: Draft ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: 1 ALLOW PINGS: 0 PRIMARY CATEGORY: DATE: 11/13/2003 10:24:00 PM ----- BODY: You ever listen to a song and ¾ through you think to yourself, “Damn, I sure could make out with someone right now.” Throughout our lives there are songs that speak to us, remind us of what we were doing (I can still see my 11 year old self dancing around my yellow bedroom to Billy Ocean’s “Carribean Queen”), who we were with (my college roommate and her boyfriend when I first heard “Smells Like Teen Spirit”) or who we’d like to be with and what we’d like to be doing. In the past few weeks, two songs have invoked the need to make out with someone. Not any one person in particular; well, maybe Julian Casablancas or Jake. The Strokes’ “Under Control” and “La Cienega Just Smiled” by Ryan Adams have both made me wish that I were making out with someone. What are some of your favorite songs and what do they remind you of or make you want to do? ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- -------- AUTHOR: My Something TITLE: Movies To See List STATUS: Draft ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: 1 ALLOW PINGS: 0 PRIMARY CATEGORY: DATE: 11/12/2003 09:10:00 PM ----- BODY: Every year, I make a list of movies I need to see to prep myself for Oscar season. I base it on Entertainment Weekly's Holiday Movie Preview issue which also has an Oscar Watch feature. Below is my list, along with DVD, VOD and theatrical release information. After each title, I mark how many times EW mentions the movie as a potential nominee in the top 6 categories: Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actor, Best Actress, Best Supporting Actor and Best Supporting Actress. I try to see the films with at least 3 or more marks. Some of them have no marks like Elf but I really, really, really want to see them. The ones at the top are asterisked because I've already seen them. The ones without a date have no DVD release date yet and some that are out of theatres are more than likely ones that I won't get on DVD in time for the ceremony in late February. *American Splendor [//] *Kill Bill Volume 1 [//] *Lost in Translation [////] VOD 11/7 - A Mighty Wind [//] VOD 11/7 - Bend It Like Beckham [/] VOD 12/1 - Whale Rider [//] DVD Now - Finding Nemo [/] DVD December - Freaky Friday [/] DVD December - Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl [/] DVD December - Seabiscuit [//////] DVD January - Open Range [/] Thirteen [//] Swimming Pool [/] The Magdalene Sisters [/] (Out of Theatres) 9/12 - Matchstick Men [/] 9/20 - Under the Tuscan Sun [/] 9/24 - School of Rock [/] (Out of Theatres) 9/26 - My Life Without Me [/] 10/3 - Mystic River [///////] 10/3 - The Station Agent [//] 10/17 - Sylvia [//] (Out of Theatres) 10/17 - Veronica Guerin [/] 10/31 - The Human Stain [////] 10/31 - In the Cut [/] 10/31 - Shattered Glass [/] 11/5 - The Matrix Revolutions  11/7 - Elf  11/7 - Love Actually [////] 11/14 - Master and Commander [///] 11/19 - The Missing [////] 11/21 - 21 Grams [//////] 11/26 - The Cooler [///] 11/26 - In America [//] 11/26 - Timeline  12/5 - The Last Samurai [///] 12/10 - Big Fish [////] 12/12 - Girl with a Pearl Earring [/] 12/12 - Something's Gotta Give [////] 12/12 - The Statement [///] 12/17 - LOTR: The Return of the King [//////] 12/19 - Calendar Girls [///] 12/19 - Mona Lisa Smile [////] 12/25 - Cold Mountain [///////] 12/25 - Paycheck  12/26 - House of Sand and Fog [///] 12/26 - Monster [/] 12/31 - Japanese Story [/] ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- -------- AUTHOR: My Something TITLE: It’s Winter! Stew your brains out! STATUS: Draft ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: 1 ALLOW PINGS: 0 PRIMARY CATEGORY: DATE: 11/10/2003 07:48:00 PM ----- BODY: A week or so ago, I decided to make beef stew. I took two recipes from FoodNetwork.com and Epicurious.com and combined them along with my own culinary know-how. And I must say, it was some damn good stew. Below is my recipe; please feel free to use. Prep Time: 3 hours (It's worth it!) Yield: 10 Servings 4-5 pounds lean beef, cubed 4 tablespoons oil 2 cloves garlic, minced 2 medium onions, diced 4 cups hot water 2 cups full-bodied red wine (Cabernet Sauvignon or Shiraz) 1/2 teaspoon pepper 1/2 teaspoon dried basil leaves 2 bay leaves 1 teaspoon dried thyme leaves 1 bag baby carrots, sliced 1/4 inch thick 4 medium potatoes, diced into bite size pieces 1 16 ounce bag frozen peas 1 16 ounce bag frozen corn 3 heaping tablespoons all-purpose flour In skillet, brown meat well in oil. After the beef is cooked, remove and put into a deep pot. Add the garlic and onions and mix well. Add water, wine, and pepper. Mix well and simmer for 1 hour. Add basil, thyme and bay leaves; mix well and simmer for 1 more hour. Add more water if necessary. While it simmers, cut up carrots and potatoes; leave potatoes in cold water to prevent browning. Add carrots and potatoes, simmer until vegetables are tender. Add frozen peas and corn and cook until they are heated through. In separate bowl, mix flour with hot water and add to pot. Mix well immediately to thicken the gravy. Serve hot. This is a good hearty stew base. You can substitute or add other vegetables like mushrooms, green beans or broccoli. You can also change around the spices to your taste. If you try this recipe, let me know how it turns out. ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- -------- AUTHOR: My Something TITLE: The Birthday Bash STATUS: Draft ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: 1 ALLOW PINGS: 0 PRIMARY CATEGORY: DATE: 11/09/2003 04:30:00 PM ----- BODY: Michele’s party went really well. Her friend Nicole and I drove in from the city on Saturday afternoon and changed at Michele’s apartment. After some iron drama, we were ready to go. The restaurant, Pastis, was really nice and we had a private party area downstairs. It was good to see all of Michele’s friends that I had met two weeks ago and I also got to meet some of her coworkers. The martinis were very strong and the cake was elegant. Unfortunately for me, the party didn’t last long. I had one of my patented anxiety attacks and had to leave early. I explained it to Michele and I’m 99% sure she understood. I feel really bad and embarrassed; this shouldn’t be happening to me. It happened a few days ago at a luncheon and I’m starting to think that I have anxiety attacks during anything that involves cocktails and/or small talk. ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- -------- AUTHOR: My Something TITLE: Are You There God? It’s Me, EGTS. STATUS: Draft ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: 1 ALLOW PINGS: 0 PRIMARY CATEGORY: DATE: 11/07/2003 11:30:00 PM ----- BODY: So right after proclaiming my grinchiness, I may have to take it back. One of this season's new shows that I've been watching is Joan of Arcadia. Even though you would think its about religion and could potentially be preachy, it isn't. Amber Tamblyn stars as Joan, a typical teenager who happens to be visited by God. Every week God appears to her in different guises and tells her to do something, usually something strange or out of character for her. Well, she does it and lo and behold, in the end some positive thing comes about because of her actions. Unlike anvils-aplenty shows such as 7th Heaven and Touched by An Angel, the show's message doesn't knock you over. It's very organic (thats so LA, I know but it's the best word for this) and really endearing. This week, Joan is told to find someone to help. God (this time, a flight attendant at a job fair) tells her that she'll be in a position to help someone and Joan will find that person by paying attention and looking at behavior because not everyone knows how to ask for help. Next we see Joan taking the bus home with her friend, Adam, who is clearly depressed, saying he hates Novemeber. Otherwise occupied with God's message, Joan encounters a crying woman, a single mom who just lost her babysitter and needs a replacement so that she can continue night school. So Joan agrees to babysit. Then she meets the kid, Rocky, who has some weird obsession with death. But it's not so weird as Rocky has cystic fibrosis and knowing about death helps him cope with the reality and fear of it. When Rocky's babysitter returns and Joan must say goodbye, they take a visit to the cemetary, his favorite place. When leaving, Joan comes upon the headstone of Adam's mother who passed away three Novembers ago. Joan goes to Adam, apologizes for her negligence and gets him to talk about his mom. There's also the side story of Joan's mother and her meeting with a priest. Helen is very confused about religion and God and why things happen. See, Joan's brother, Kevin, was in a bad car accident a year ago and is now paralyzed from the waist down. While she's been putting on a happy face, she's still pretty messed up. The priest tells her that she hasn't grieved for her loss and goes on to explain that though Kevin is alive, the whole family "experienced a kind of death of the life [they] imagined for him. The philosopher, Kierkegaard, he said that the most painful state of being is remembering the future. Particularly one you can never have." This really touched me because I suppose that what makes me very sad about my brother. Though he lived, whatever he was to be died that summer and I don't think my family ever grieved for that loss. In the end, Joan is upset and meets up with God (this time a cute boy). She asks him why living has to be so hard.
Joan: I wish it didn't hurt so much. God: It hurts because you feel it, Joan. Because you're alive. You love people. That generates a lot of power, a lot of energy. The same kind of energy that binds atoms together. We've all see what happens when you try to pry them apart. Joan: So if I don't get attached to people then it won't hurt so much? God: No. It's in your nature to get attached to people. I put that in the recipe. It's when you guys try to ignore that, when you try to go it alone. That's when it gets ugly. It's Hell. Joan: It's Hell? Like the Hell? God: Oh, look. Your house. Go on, Joan. People are waiting for you.Ok, I know it's still a bit cheesy but it hit me where it counts. ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- -------- AUTHOR: My Something TITLE: Return of the Misanthrope STATUS: Draft ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: 1 ALLOW PINGS: 0 PRIMARY CATEGORY: DATE: 11/06/2003 11:07:00 PM ----- BODY: It’s that time of year again. The time of year when everything starts to suck. I hate the holidays. I suppose because they are deemed “family” events and I have no family. The holidays are a reminder of my failure as a daughter, sister, niece, person. In the past, this is the time of year when I shut myself off from everyone and this year will be no different. After this weekend’s trip to Hartford for Michele’s birthday party, I’m not going anywhere or doing anything. I just know how I am and don’t want to be around people if I don’t have to. I’ll preoccupy my time with knitting, DVDs and trips to the theatre. Before you know it, it will be January. ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- -------- AUTHOR: My Something TITLE: “21st Birthday Parties are so 9 years ago.” STATUS: Draft ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: 1 ALLOW PINGS: 0 PRIMARY CATEGORY: DATE: 11/05/2003 08:25:00 PM ----- BODY: Today is Michele’s 30th birthday and a very appropriate time to bring back “7 Things”
Minnow: Maybe we wouldn’t sound so bad if some people didn’t try to play with big, meaty claws. Mr. Krabs: What did you say, punk? Minnow: BIG, MEATY CLAWS! Mr. Krabs: Well, these claws ain’t for just attractin’ mates. Minnow: Bring it on, old man. BRING IT ON! Spongebob: No, people. Let’s be smart and bring it OFF.I have no idea why I find this hysterical, I just do. ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- -------- AUTHOR: My Something TITLE: AKA Private Dick STATUS: Draft ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: 1 ALLOW PINGS: 0 PRIMARY CATEGORY: DATE: 9/18/2003 10:23:00 PM ----- BODY: In an effort to access my Outlook via the internet (to no avail, damnit!), I did a little snooping around on the hotel computer and came up with this email:
Surprise!!!!!! Hi Lover: Glad to hear that you are going out to have a good time tonight. What did you have for dinner? Is Amy a good cook. I miss you and wish that you were here. I LOVE YOU.......Talk to you tomorrow. Your FOXY LADYMy favorite parts are, of course, the terms of endearments: Lover and FOXY LADY. I can't even begin to imagine who these people are. Any guesses? ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- -------- AUTHOR: My Something TITLE: The Ohio Song STATUS: Draft ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: 1 ALLOW PINGS: 0 PRIMARY CATEGORY: DATE: 9/18/2003 08:31:00 PM ----- BODY: So here I am stuck in Columbus, OH. I arrived here yesterday to spend two days meeting with new clients. I was sure my 4 pm flight out today would be early enough to miss Isabel. But, alas, it was not to be. While my meetings went well, I have to say that Ohio, well, it sucks. Driving between Columbus and Dayton was mind numbing. How in the world can they allow tractors on the highways? And why is there but a handful of music radio stations but dozens of talk and religious stations? I even found one that sounded like it was being broadcast by the elderly from their retirement home. As though having your own station was the new blogging. To top things off, I wasn't able to rent with Hertz and get NeverLost and was forced to resort to maps. What is this world coming to?!?!? Three hours it took me to find my hotel last night. Don't get me wrong. Bigger cities like Cincinnati, Dayton and Columbus are fine. And I'm sure once I visit Cleveland in a few weeks, I will agree that indeed it does rock. But the in-between places are a tad too bland for my taste. I'm sure all my negative Ohio talk helped get me stranded here in the first place. Karma . . . what can you do? But it's cool, I ordered in pizza and maybe I'll order a movie later. Wish me luck. I have a 6am into Laguardia. Forget luck. Pray. (See what Ohio does to you? It makes you pray.) ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- -------- AUTHOR: My Something TITLE: Yay Me!!! STATUS: Draft ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: 1 ALLOW PINGS: 0 PRIMARY CATEGORY: DATE: 9/15/2003 11:29:00 PM ----- BODY: So the reason why posting has been so thin lately is because I've been busy at work. See, I've gone and got myself a bit of a promotion to a larger, higher profile territory. But in the meanwhile, I'm also handling my old territory as well. So while I'm extremely happy about the opportunity, it's just been a bit tough lately. Working 12 hours a day, short lunches, working at home, on the weekends. It will only be for a few more weeks so please bear with me while I get through this time. But yay me! ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- -------- AUTHOR: My Something TITLE: Then and Now. Lost and Found STATUS: Draft ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: 1 ALLOW PINGS: 0 PRIMARY CATEGORY: DATE: 9/11/2003 04:19:00 AM ----- BODY: (The following is an account of the events of September 11, 2001, the days following and how I experienced it all. I am writing this for me, to document the timeline, my mental state at the time and my perspective as I look back over the past two years. This is a very difficult subject for me to write about and may be for you to read. I know that this has all been written before and I’m sure much more eloquently than the below so if you don’t care for a rehash, please visit me in a few days when I should have new material up. Due to the sensitive nature of this post, I respectfully ask that you not post negative, critical or political comments.) Then and Lost Tuesday, September 11, 2001 was a beautiful day in Manhattan. Sunny but not hot. There was a chill in the air as if it had rained the night before. I got up, checked the weather and dressed, wearing suit pants, a baby blue twin set and sneakers. It didn’t really match but I couldn’t walk very well in the sling backs that go with the outfit. Since I was in the office all day, I figured no one would care if I wore my casual footwear all day. It’s funny how I remember exactly what I was wearing. My morning route was the M67 crosstown going west to my stop at the 1/9 Downtown at 66th. I entered the train listening to my MP3 player and reading the current Entertainment Weekly. At Christopher, I noticed we stopped a little longer than usual but I was really engrossed in my magazine, I hardly noticed for how long. After a considerable time, I heard an announcement and removed my earphones to hear the announcer say that we were stopped due to smoke in the World Trade Center Station and would be continuing shortly. I shrugged a silent whatever and resumed reading. I was running early that day so a few extra minutes sitting and waiting was fine. We finally got going and I exited at the next stop, Houston. I left the station at the southwest corner and looked west toward my destination, Hudson Street. I immediately noticed there were an unusual number of people on the corner looking south toward downtown. At the corner I, too, looked southward to see the hole and smoke billowing out of the east side of the World Trade Center’s North Tower. The smoke concealed some of the damage so it was hard to tell exactly what had happened. I actually thought that a movie was being shot or something because it looked exactly like something you would see on television. Certainly it couldn’t be real. But I knew it was and my thoughts turned to a coworker whose husband worked across the street from the towers. I ran into my building and entered our top floor office. Everyone was standing around my work area because I sit facing the south. At this point I should write I really don’t know where I was when the second plane entered the South Tower. I’ve read so much about it, seen so much footage, that I can’t be certain if it happened while I was on the street or when I got upstairs. I would not of seen it anyway as the second plane entered from the south and I was north of the World Trade Center. I’m a pretty casual person and at first, I wasn’t really phased by the whole scene. I’m sure I made some joke about drunken air traffic controllers. The damage didn’t look all that bad. But that’s because the towers were so massive; those big planes looked like puddle jumpers. People turned on their televisions and when news came in that The Pentagon had been hit, it was then clear to me that this was planned. And as soon as it was announced that one of the planes was from Boston, I wasn’t surprised. I flew in and out of Logan 50 times in the previous year and knew about their lax security. All the while, we watched, standing at our windows, unable to comprehend exactly what was happening. My coworker got in touch with her husband and he, along with some of his friends was walking up to our building. I emailed Ellis, my roommate who worked on Wall Street, to see if she was ok. She was and wrote that she was told to stay in her building. Shortly thereafter Ellis emailed again to let me know she was leaving to walk home. I quickly emailed my clients, family and friends to let them know I was fine. We continued to watch the skyline, watching debris fall. I remember someone asking me what was falling and I replied I didn’t want to know. Because somewhere in me, I knew. I knew every horrible thing that had happened, was happening and would happen. Everything around me was in a swirl and I moved within it mechanically. Some people cried but I wasn’t there yet. Then the South Tower fell and I stood in silence and shock. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. But the yelps from the coworkers around me brought me back. I saw my boss, a very strong, fervent woman, break out in tears and yet, I still did not cry. We all speculated. Did they have time to get out? How many people do you think were still in there? According to the news, it could have been tens of thousands dead. The CEO came over and closed the shades, save the one near me for it was broken. He told us to go to the north side of the building where we all sat in conference rooms watching it on television. I sat with Michele, her first day back from a European vacation, and saw her face heavy with concern and fear. I couldn’t take watching the news so I snuck back to my desk. I tried to work, sent out more “I’m ok” emails but was drawn back to my window. As I walked over, the North Tower fell. I stood alone and watched it come down. It seemed to fall so slowly. I can still see the northeast corner girder standing puncturing the blue sky. In that instant I believed it wouldn’t all fall, just the top. But that girder was dragged down and disappeared in a cloud of gray brown dust that spread out rapidly like water from behind a broken dam. Still it did not register what had happened. In the background, I could hear the echoes of the screams and cries of coworkers who watched it on television. For all we knew, we’d just seen 20,000 people killed. People were packing up and getting ready to find a way home. Still we weren’t sure if we should leave. Who knew what else was going on in the city. The subways were shut down and walking was our only option. I was really thankful I had my sneakers on. Those 90+ blocks I had ahead of me would be tough. We were grouping up based on geography. I walked with Michele up until 14th Street on the West Side where we said goodbye and I crossed to the east. I don’t really remember whom I walked with from that point except for one woman. I didn’t know her very well but she lived about 20 blocks north of me. Mostly we didn’t talk, just needed company should anything happen. We didn’t see people getting out of control. People were even offering rides to others. It was sad to see the elderly waiting for busses that passed by already full and younger people running past them to get into vacant cars. But other than that, I didn’t see anything bad happen. The traffic was pretty much at a standstill on Third Avenue, everyone trying to get out of the city. I first saw a National Guardsman in the East 30s. He was blocking traffic so that police and military vehicles could get through. Walking was hard but I don’t remember feeling weary. Each step was light as though it was second nature to walk that distance. I’m sure I was preoccupied or just so focused on getting home and into bed. The last 10 blocks were the worst but coming down 70th Street was a great feeling. I don’t think I even minded the three flights of stairs I had left to go. It took over 3 hours to make my way home. I entered my apartment to find both roommates there, safe and sound. Ellis made it out of her building, found her boyfriend and they started walking home before the first tower fell. Courtney had not left for work when she saw the news. Although I didn’t consider them to be close friends, I sure was glad to see them. At once overcome with exhaustion and fear, I’m sure my face barely registered my happiness and kept slack. They were sitting there in the living room eating and watching it on television. I shouldn’t say “it” because really there wasn’t anything else to watch. I went to my room, undressed, put on my robe and went to take a shower. A nice, cool shower. I went back to my room, put on boxers and a t-shirt, turned on my A/C and wrapped myself up in my blankets. And then I cried. Silent, wrenching sobs. The kind that start in your stomach, collect in your chest, stick in your throat and fill your mouth until you gasp for air. I shook from head to toe, completely unable to comprehend the mishmash of emotions running through me. It was like every emotion you could possibly feel in your entire life in one single moment: Fear, wonder, sadness, anger, rage, panic, appreciation, bitterness, happiness, awe, fatigue, love, alienation, loneliness, threat, shame, worry, pity, envy, contempt, aggravation, anxiety, fury, regret, hatred, confusion, grief, unworthiness, apathy, helplessness, humility, shock, disgust, guilt, vulnerability, surprise, agony, tension, security, revulsion, paranoia, misery, hostility, fragility, emptiness, desperation. I was pretty sure I didn’t know anyone who was killed. But I cried for them, for their families and for myself. When you wake up on an average September Tuesday, you don’t think you’re going to see 2,792 people die. Hell, who thinks they would ever see that in their lifetime? I laid there for a while drifting in and out of sleep. I woke while it was still light and turned on the television. I didn’t want to watch but I rationalized that if I watched enough of it on television, I could convince myself I wasn’t there. I could replace the images already in my head with news footage and then in some way, it wouldn’t be real to me. I didn’t eat much the first two days and couldn’t go outside yet. I drugged myself up on Tylenol PM and slept through most of it. Only waking to eat, pee, watch a bit of television and take more pills. On Wednesday, I spoke to my mom and then my dad. He pulled his macho bullshit routine and said he would come get me all the way from Wilmington, North Carolina. It made me both cry and laugh. I was 28 and I didn’t need him rescuing me. Besides he couldn’t get into the city. He said it didn’t matter, he would find a way but I told him no. I apologized for crying but he understood that the emotions were so fast and frequent that it couldn’t be helped. He asked me to call every day but I only said I would try. I was going through a difficult time with my family and only a week earlier had composed a speech to break off my relationship with them. I would have read it then but wanted to wait until I was more composed. On Thursday, I left my building for the first time. I walked to the northwest corner of 70th and First hearing and feeling a silence I’d never experienced anywhere in the world, let alone in New York. The streets were empty of cars but there seemed to be many people milling about. People spoke but I couldn’t hear them. On the corner, I stopped and looked up at the high rise apartment building across the street. Instantly, I felt dizzy and gazed downward again while clutching a street sign to steady myself. After a minute, I looked up again and the same thing happened. I walked across the street to the bodega, testing my new vertigo. The site of any building over four stories made my head spin and my stomach drop. I quickly bought a few edibles and scurried back to my building. That night there was a bomb threat in the Empire State Building. My cousin and her husband lived in that area and called to see if they could stay with me. As I waited on my stoop for them, it was eerily quite until I heard my cousin calling to me from down the street. And with them, came the smell. It took two days for the smell of death and destruction to make its way to me. An odor of smoke, water, dust, and fire, it was acrid but warm, kind of like that from a fireplace fire. I can still taste it in the back of my mouth. Our office was open on Friday to those who wanted to come in. And due to an unrelated issue, there would be no direct deposit, so if we wanted to get paid, we would have to come in and pick up a check. I didn’t really want to go to work, but I did want to get paid and I couldn’t stay in my apartment anymore. While the subways were working again, the 1/9 only went to 14th so I had to walk the rest of the way. I made it past the Houston Street barricades and up into my office. There were about 40 people that made it in. But mostly, people came in, picked up their check and left. There was no work to be done. We gawked out the window to see what we could. To see if we could remember what was there and make out the void it left. It was and still is near mind-boggling to think of two structures that big. That the next-to-biggest building still standing was only a fourth the size of just one tower. I looked out and I could see them standing again. I could hold my hand upward pointing to the top to remind myself how big they really were in relation to my location. As quickly as I saw them standing in my mind’s eye, I could see them falling again in slow motion with that one girder staying high until the end. I left and went back home, back to bed, back to my television for more mental conditioning. Desperately trying not to be there. The next two days were pretty much like the three before. I called my father on Saturday to read my statement about ending our relationship. It was difficult but necessary and didn’t go as badly as I thought. My Time magazine supplement came in the mail; full of photographs of the attack and aftermath and diagrams and timelines. It made me ill and miserable. I closed it, filed it away and haven’t looked at it since. I went back to work on Monday and the subways were working a little past the Houston stop this time. However, there were barricades around the Federal building on King so we had to walk a block out of the way for the next several months. Most people gave blood but as it turned out they couldn’t use it. I had to try and do something since I felt especially useless and pathetic at this time. Upon hearing the story of Cantor Fitzgerald losing 70% of their employees and their commitment to continue to care for those employees’ families, I was moved to send a fax volunteering my services. I figured I could be a secretary or file clerk after work whatever they needed to get them up and running. Instead they asked me to work for their non-profit organization. They needed lots of help organizing all the money, letters and gifts that were pouring in. I dedicated myself to spending 3 to 4 hours after work 3 days a week. It was interesting and moving to process all these things coming from other desperate people who didn’t know what to do with themselves but they knew they had to do something. A spare $10, a case of books on grief, boxes of stuffed animals, collages, homemade CDs of meditation music. We got a lot of stuff and unfortunately most of it couldn’t be used. I remember a Florida woman sent an angel teddy bear specifically to be given to a little girl she saw on television. We had to figure out who that girl was and then I brought the stuffed animal into the office to send out to the girl along with a note saying we would send other toys for her brother and sister. I lasted about 4 weeks having to stop because I was burning the candle at both ends. I was emotionally and physically worn out. The last thing I did was decorate for a family event at Chelsea Piers and I haven’t heard from them since. I suppose I could go back and volunteer my time. I suppose. The landscape of the whole city changed. Tons of flags and all things red, white and blue. Everything read “I [heart] NY now more than ever,” “God Bless America,” “We Will Never Forget,” and “These Colors Don’t Run”. I suppose it was reassuring that we hadn’t completely lost our patriotism and somewhat comforting to have these slogans and symbols to lean against. By the end of November though, it got to be a bit much. Every week you saw less and less of the Stars and Stripes and I stopped watching the news and reading articles about the attacks. In February 2002, I went on a business trip to Portland, ME. It was funny for me to see all the patriotic regalia again. It seems that New York “got over it” pretty fast but the farther you moved outside of the city, the longer they kept it up. It felt weird, almost phony to me. In the late spring, I was at home watching the movie Spy Game. A pretty good movie. However, there’s a scene where a building explodes and it’s full of people. Although this in no way resembled the attack, this scene hit me hard. I broke out into tears and couldn’t stop crying for several minutes. Maybe because it just came out of the blue and snuck up on me. Maybe because I had worked intensely to push all of it down and keep it down. Maybe despite trying so hard not to be, I really was a victim. Now and Found I’m not a political person. I don’t follow the news. I don’t know what is going on on the other side of the globe. The truth is I don’t care. That may sound ignorant and apathetic. Truth be told, that’s exactly what it is. That is exactly what I am. The only excuse I have is that I consider myself to be so fucked up that it warrants all of my attention back onto myself. I figure how can I get involved with what’s going on out there if I don’t have shit straight in here. One day, I’ll get involved. I’ll be able to handle news. I’ll be able to understand why one person would raise up an army to inflict such a heinous crime upon humanity. I would like to understand why someone can hate a country so much but not be able to separate the country’s government from its civilians. No one should have to die for their country unless they have volunteered. Law enforcement and military personnel know the score. They have it within them to make that sacrifice. Not saying I don’t or couldn’t but I would want to choose. In my office, we have this totally cheesy plastic American Flag still on our receptionist’s desk. It makes me cringe. Maybe I’m just trying to forget and hate anything that reminds me. To this day when talking with a new client and them finding out that I’m in Manhattan, I get The Question. “Were you there on 9/11?” And what follows is the same stilted conversation with me saying “Yes” and the person silent but then remarking how horrible it must have been. Sometimes I don’t mind but most of the time I do. One day, I’ll stop the person that introduces me with the phrase “She was in New York on 9/11” added in for good measure. I’m more than just a person that saw this happen. I’m more than someone who walked away. I’m more than a victim. Whatever I was, I am moreover tenfold. I hope in writing this, I’ve been able to purge some of the evil from that time. I’m tired of tearing up or crying my guts out over the simplest things. I hate coming out of the subway at West 79th, looking up into the sky to see planes flying overhead and instantly thinking of that day. I still watch the skies but I’m getting used to it. The thought of “why not me?” lingered for weeks and months after. I felt I was too close and yet not close enough. Why couldn’t I have been one that died rather some mother or father, someone who matter? Looking back, it wasn’t luck that saved me. I wasn’t close enough to consider myself a survivor. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t feel hurt and then healed. I moved to the city in March 2000. At the time of the attack, I had lived here for one year, 6 months and 8 days. Even though I loved the city and so desperately wanted to be a New Yorker, I never felt I was. I felt like a visitor so aware of all the idiosyncrasies that make this city “The City”. I felt the air surrounding me and the concrete under my feet pushing up. The electricity that surged from the ground, this otherworldly force, guided my gait. I’ve never felt that way anywhere else. You feel that any moment something’s going to happen. It’s just got to. It’s both terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. On September 11th, I thought that electricity died. I walked on the street and nothing. I breathed in and nothing. It was gone. They took The City from me and I’ve mourned it ever since. Until now, I thought to myself “Sure, some of it’s back but it’s not the same and nothing can ever make it right again.” But in writing this, I realize that the electric current is still here but it’s transferred into me. It’s so ingrained in how I think, move and act that I don’t even feel it anymore. Two years later, I know what makes me a New Yorker. It’s not the MetroCard and the exorbitant rent. It’s these invisible roots and vines that bind me to subways, sewers, concrete, steel, buses, pigeons, crosswalks, bike messengers, taxis, hot dog stands, and glass. I am connected with everything and it will yield to me as I yield to it. And in that, I am a New Yorker. ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- -------- AUTHOR: My Something TITLE: Tales from The Ladies Room STATUS: Draft ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: 1 ALLOW PINGS: 0 PRIMARY CATEGORY: DATE: 9/03/2003 08:38:00 PM ----- BODY: About 3 years ago, I read this study about why woman take longer in the bathroom than men. No, it's not because we check our hair and clothes. Or because we have to sit whereas men can just stand. It's because we are trying to be polite. Yep, the reason women on average take longer than men in public restrooms is because we are trying to be discreet and not have anyone hear us if we have to fart or take a massive shit. Women will sit there and wait until someone flushes or leaves to make any kind of bowel noise. That's for the majority of women. Me being in the minority. If I have to go, I have to go. It's just a fact of life. It's not like I'm obscene but damnit, I'm not sitting in the loo all day trying to be prim and proper. And that leads me to what happened today. I ate a lot of cereal this weekend and it has apparently made me more regular. So for like the fifth time today, I had to use the bathroom. (Dare I use the phrase #2?) I tried for my usual middle stall but blast it all, someone was in there. So I entered the last stall, the handicap stall; not my favorite. And I went, nothing fancy. Then I go to retrieve a few squares for clean up and I've got nothing. Not even half a square. I scramble for the reserve roll; it's gone too. Dear lord, what a pickle! So I think to call out to the person in the middle to hand me some TP but it's kinda far since the handicap stall is really wide. And then I realize she's one of those polite types whose trying her hardest not poot in the presence of another. Why me?!?! I quickly assess through her multiple low-volume sphincteric puttering and unusually frequent flushing, that this chick is going to wait it out. And to disturb such a person during her private "shame" would not be good. First, I decide to wait for someone else to come in. 3 minutes later I realize I can't sit in here any longer. Next, I look for alternative wiping aids. I try to unroll the cardboard from the empty roll but soon decide it to be too time consuming and potentially dangerous. I don't need a cardboard cut back there. I have nothing in my pockets save my card holder. I contemplate using my MetroCard which could be both practical and socio-political commentary. But I realize I couldn't use it afterward knowing where it had been and I couldn't send it back to MTA for a refund with it potentially smelling like crap. I am left with no choice. I buttoned up, flushed and then shuffled to another stall where I wiped, did a panty check and buttoned back up. I quickly washed my hands and left. I did not want to meet the other go-er face to face. For fear that her shame would become mine. ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- -------- AUTHOR: My Something TITLE: Looking for Porn in All The Wrong Places STATUS: Draft ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: 1 ALLOW PINGS: 0 PRIMARY CATEGORY: DATE: 9/02/2003 07:11:00 PM ----- BODY: Two weeks ago, I opened my mailbox and got this. For regular readers, you know that I loves me some Prince William. So the September issue of Vanity Fair was like the Upper-East-Side-single-girl's Penthouse. I'm talking nearly a 20-page spread on Prince Will alone. Not to mention the other beautiful Royals. And the cool thing is I let my subscription run out but for some reason they sent it to me anyway. Free Porn!!! Not that I could use it as an accoutrement of self-pleasure. The damn thing weighs 12 pounds. The balancing would require much too much concentration needed elsewhere. Some friends of mine brought me the Prince William stamps from their trip to England. I casually remarked to another friend over IM "Is it wrong to masturbate to stamps?" I think she thought I was kidding. But in that moment, I could see myself in bed with stamps stuck to the back of my hand. But they are only headshots and I need a little more to work with. As if the Vanity Fair and stamps weren't enough, there was a television special on The Discovery Channel featuring the Wales (or is it Waleses?). I did not search this out, mind you. I was in a Boston hotel with crappy cable so my entertainment choices were limited. Prince Will was in fine form, equally gorgeous in the moving picture as in the still. Once again, I casually remarked, this time to myself, "Is it wrong to masturbate to The Discovery Channel?" While it may not be for some people (people who get off on forensics, animals mating and/or archeology, should those people exist), it is wrong for me. I have to draw the line somewhere. What's more funny about this is that I'm not a habitue of pornography. I don't think there's anything wrong with it. I just don't personally need it to complete the task. ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- -------- AUTHOR: My Something TITLE: Celebrity Sighting STATUS: Draft ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: 1 ALLOW PINGS: 0 PRIMARY CATEGORY: DATE: 8/29/2003 05:17:00 PM ----- BODY: Oh my lord, y'all!!!! I just saw Amy Sedaris on Christopher Street at 7th. She is so tiny and cute. I am such a fan. She's hilarious on Sex and The City and when she visits Letterman. ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- -------- AUTHOR: My Something TITLE: Survival of the Fittest STATUS: Draft ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: 1 ALLOW PINGS: 0 PRIMARY CATEGORY: DATE: 8/28/2003 09:01:00 PM ----- BODY: I am so freakin' cutting edge. This little post is an expose of sorts. For those of you not in New York, the sign over to the left is what we see when we are crossing the street. And to be clear, yes, we see them and no, we don't read them. Or obey them for that matter. So New York decides that it would be worth millions and millions (I can only assume) of dollars to replace all the street signals that have words with picture signs. [sarcasm]Because evidently New Yorkers are too stupid to read and walk at the same time.[/sarcasm] I'll admit I'm not good with drinking and walking sometimes but I can usually read while standing on a corner. (There's a hooker joke in there somewhere. I just can't find it. Leave it in comments if you like.) So now we have the street signs you see below. Cute, huh? Well, I say poppycock! That's right. Poppycock! Millions of dollars spent to send a message to millions "Hey, it's ok if you can't read English. We'll enable you so that you don't have to worry. See the little man. See the little hand. Don't worry, you'll get it one day." I mean, the old signs were just fine plus they were color coded. If anything, red means stop in every country. What if the hand means "Hi" to people? Or as in "talk to the hand"? Which could actually be interpreted as stop. And the little stick figure guy; sometimes he is drawn like he's squatting and walking like a duck. What if it's interpreted as "freeze with your arms and legs akimbo"? Because seriously that might happen. Really, if you think about it the old signs were an exercise in natural selection. Darwin would have been proud. People who can't cross the street safely by their own eyesight and judgment are better off, you know, not making it. Because life is hard and crossing the street is the least of it. At least we didn't get those assy countdown signals like they have in New Haven. [I got the pictures from this site. Beware of horrible popups.] ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- -------- AUTHOR: My Something TITLE: Acting My Shoe Size STATUS: Draft ALLOW COMMENTS: 1 CONVERT BREAKS: 1 ALLOW PINGS: 0 PRIMARY CATEGORY: DATE: 8/24/2003 10:25:00 PM ----- BODY: What is it with tween-centric stuff that sucks me in like a whirlpool? I am completely addicted to entertainment that is beyond my age demographic. The title is true; when it comes to television, movies and music, I am 8 years old. Sometimes, 7 1/2 depending on the heel. Let’s start with television. Take a look at Earl’s (my DVR, for you first-time readers) Series Manager. Right now, I have listed: Made, Making the Band II, Switched!, Recess, Even Stevens, Lizzie McGuire and The O.C. I absolutely love Made on MTV; I’ve even cried at two episodes: the high school graduate and the BMX girl. Switched! is a really cool show where two teenagers switch lives for 4 days. Recess is a Saturday morning cartoon about a group of six fourth graders. My favorite character is Spinelli; I’d like to be more like her. Even Stevens is a Disney original show. I watch it for one reason: Shia LaBeouf. Shia is the star of the show and he is the most adorable thing I’ve seen on TV in a long time. He’s just out-of-control funny and cute. And he’s on this season of Project Greenlight, playing the lead in its movie The Battle of Shaker Heights which I fully intend to see as soon as possible. The cool thing is you get to hear Shia curse which makes him all the more hot. No, seriously, I find this guy hot even though he’s only 17. He’s got fantastic hair; it’s the curly, messy style but not in the Una-bomber/Jack Osbourne way. Shia jokes that his name means “Where’s the beef?” in Yiddish and French. I guarantee you in 5 years, Shia will be the beef, as his generation’s sensi-stud (a la Tobey McGuire and Jake Gyllenhaal). Lizzie McGuire is . . . well, if you don’t know who she is than this whole post is of no use to you so move on. Lizzie McGuire = Hilary Duff. Or at least, she did. Earlier this summer, Hilary Duff severed ties with Disney. Disney says it was money and her controlling mommy. Hilary says she’s fulfilled her contract on the TV show and movie and wants to consider offers from other networks. Plus she is going to have a line of clothing and accessories called Stuff by Hilary Duff. Isn't that cute? In spite of her potential meglomania and impending Olsen-esque overexporsure, I totally love her. Not in a weird Olsen Twins way but in that sister way. I can really see me being her older sister and stuff. Well, she has an older sister but if she ever needs a replacement for shopping or premieres . . . Hilary, I’m totally free. As for movies, I recently got The Lizzie McGuire Movie and What a Girl Wants from Netflix. In fact, I got them just prior to the blackout and when I got home, the first thing I did was use what little battery power I had on my laptop to watch the beginning of The Lizzie McGuire Movie and distract myself. Both are really good movies (if you like that kind of thing) and eerily similar. See for yourself: Music is kind of objective since most of it is geared toward youth anyway. But I’ll admit to liking Hilary Duff's music and getting songs from the movies above. And I admit to “choosing” music based on what’s playing on MTV and the television shows I watch. I will also group Michelle Branch and Avril Lavigne in with these artists since they are significantly younger than I am and I like their music too. [This is just part of my musical taste; I'm not completely vacuous.] What it all comes down to is I don’t want to get old. Or I don’t want to accept that I’m old already. Or maybe I’m just immature. Or perhaps I overanalyze things. As long as I don't start dressing like a tween, I think I'm good. ----- EXTENDED BODY: ----- EXCERPT: ----- --------