The Not-So-Secret Diary of a Bad Luck Girl

Happy Halloween everyone! I was going to go to the parade in the Village tonight, but after schlepping out to New Jersey and back for a meeting this morning – didn’t get back till 2 – I’m pooped.

Last night The Exorcist was on, and though that movie scares the bejeezus out of me, I can never resist watching it. I did have to step away during Father Karras’ nightmare about his mother. I can’t stand seeing the flash of that demon face. Yikes!

From the introduction, by Susan Orlean:

What moves me most is an essay in which the writer turns something over and over in his or her head, and in examining it finds a bit of truth about human nature and life and the experience of inhabiting the planet. For a reader to follow along as a writer examines the nature of long-term love through the experience of removing a boil on his back, or comes to understand her sexuality by questioning the history of her mother’s cooking. . .is to read a wonderful essay and to appreciate the elasticity of the form.

From “The Sea of Information,” by Andrea Barrett:

And sometimes I also had glimmers of another thing I’d once known: how effectively information can be used to wall off emotion. How the gathering of information can take the place of actual understanding.

From “Joyas Voladoras,” by Brian Doyle:

Every creature on earth has approximately two billion heartbeats to spend in a lifetime. You can spend them slowly, like a tortoise, and live to be two hundred years old, or you can spend them fast like a hummingbird, and live to be two years old. . . .

When young we think there will come one person who will savor and sustain us always; when we are older we know this is the dream of a child, that all hearts finally are bruised and scarred, scored and torn, repaired by time and will, patched by force of character, yet fragile and rickety forevermore, no matter how ferocious the defense and how many bricks you bring to the wall.

From “Small Silences,” by Edward Hoagland:

Act purposefully but minimally and keep your reasons under wraps, was a lesson he taught me. Not the whole formula for life, but quite a beginning, because love and openness to what you love are fragile and yet will flower if cupped and sunlit: as will a freelance toughness and survivability, when you need that.

Friday was lazy. I took advantage of my company’s last half-day Friday and went home and sat on my butt. At least I picked up my laundry, put it away, and read a lot of I Know This Much Is True.

Saturday I had plans to go to the Halloween dog parade in Tompkins Square Park as well as some scare-a-licious events in Grand Central. But 1) the dog parade was rained out – although by early afternoon the weather had turned beautiful – and postponed to Sunday, and 2) the Grand Central stuff was on Sunday too. Instead on Saturday was “Tokyo Fiesta.” Been there, done that.

The day wasn’t a total loss. I picked up some Get Gorgeous tea, which is chock-full of antioxidants that will supposedly slow the aging process. The instructions say 3 to 4 cups a day. If I ingest that much, at least the sun won’t age me because I’ll be inside all day going to the bathroom.

Also got some Bumble & Bumble Creme de Coco conditioner. They had only the small 8 oz size and the gigantour 1 liter pump.

I went for the 1 liter since I like the stuff.

Sunday I was off to NJ for my dad’s birthday. I totally forgot about daylight savings time ending and woke up wondering why my cable box was an hour early and how I could fix it. My ‘rents and I did the usual, the mall and then dinner at Penang.

The leaves have pretty much all changed. I had wanted to take a walk and take some pictures, but it was extremely windy and cold. Too bad.

NaNoWriMo starts on Wednesday. Yay! I figured out which novel I want to tackle, one I’ve been thinking about for YEARS. Sunday, appropriately enough, is the NYC marathon. I’m sad I’m not running in it but looking forward to cheering other people on and getting some cool pix.

I was so psyched about not having to present at the meeting in Florida last week, then ended up having to present yesterday locally.

Although it turned out fine, I was still pretty stressed out beforehand, to the point that I took a Unisom the night before, not to help me fall asleep, but so that in the morning my nerves would be distracted by feeling tired and slightly spacey.

I’m starting to think I need to take a public speaking class. With my job it’s becoming more apparent that I can’t get away with not presenting. I hate that extremely nervous feeling I always get before I do it.

It doesn’t just go for presenting. I have this problem in meetings, in class (though less so), and sometimes in social situations in which I don’t know a lot of people or feel uncomfortable. It comes and goes. Perhaps I need to learn some techniques to make it happen less often.

People who aren’t shy don’t understand this, just as I don’t understand how one can be perfectly calm before going on stage. S. says he never feels nervous before a performance, just pumped and maybe worried that he’ll forget something, but not nervous like me. My fear is blanking or stumbling, and then getting those embarrassed looks from the audience.

I have to remind myself that I may be projecting, and even if they *are* embarrassed for me, it’s not because I blanked for a moment or stumbled, but because I probably look like I’m starting to freak out.

I thought about taking a stand up comedy class. S. has enjoyed his, and Mario Vasquez, this news reporter on CBS, suggested it in order to conquer fear of public speaking as well as to build skills for being an effective speech maker. He was an excellent speaker. Very natural and funny.

I’ve had this problem since I was kid. Throughout school we had to give oral reports and speeches, and I always did okay. Yes, I was very nervous beforehand but always did well, sometimes made people laugh. I don’t feel as successful with these work-related presentations. Maybe if I had something under my belt, like making people laugh from stage, then I’d feel more confident overall.

I was okay with teaching. In the beginning it was extremely nerve racking, but after a few weeks, I got the hang of it and it felt almost natural. Maybe because all I needed was a loose lesson plan, and then I was just talking off the top of my head. And people always had questions. I do better with just answering people’s questions than just lecturing.

The idea of a stand-up comedy class scares the bejeezus out of me. But some people are SO horrible. Cringingly bad. I can’t be worse than them.

On another note, my obsession with Flickr grows. I finally went “pro” and now have what seems like an unlimited capacity for uploading pix. Also, one of my photos got into Explore last week – yippee!

I joined a group, Mirror Views from a Street Mentality. I love taking pictures of reflections, which I often spot when I’m wandering around the city. So far I’ve sent two pix to them. Hopefully I’ll have more.

It’s come to this: I want a better camera. Mine is perfect for traveling since it’s so small, but because it’s so small, my pictures are not as sharp as they could be. And I have less control in terms of what I want to focus on. I’ll have to do some research on a fancier schmanicer camera.

The train ride on Friday felt fast. I read my book and listened to my iPod, which unfortunately ran out of juice just a couple of hours into the trip.

People actually abided by the quiet car rules, though a few snickered and said they felt like they were in grade school when the announcement came on about no cell phone use or extended conversations. Then go to another car, beeyotch. You have the whole rest of the train to choose from.

~ ~ ~

“Sometimes I like to brag, sometimes I’m soft-spoken / When I’m in Holland I eat the pannenkoeken.” The Beastie Boys, Super Disco Breakin’

I got to South Station around 4 and walked over to ES’s workplace. Hung out for a bit since she still had some work to finish. Then we were off to get groceries for the pannenkoeken, or Dutch pancakes, that her roommate M, who is from the Netherlands, was sweet enough to offer to make for us.

But it was M’s last day at work – she is moving to Spain in a week – and so of course the poor girl was caught up with stuff till late. ES and her other roommate M2 were fine with waiting. I, on the other hand, snacked for a good three hours before M came home.

The pannenkoeken were delish: I had one with bacon and apples, and half of one with edam cheese. The first time I had Dutch panckes was during my and ES’s trip to Amsterdam many moons ago. So between the pancake dinner, the rain, and the company, I kind of felt like I was back in Holland.

~ ~ ~

“I’ve learned there are three things you don’t discuss with people: religion, politics and the Great Pumpkin.” Linus, It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown

The next day we had a leisurely morning before heading out to go to the

Life Is Good pumpkin festival. Lots of people, lots of pumpkins. I didn’t realize this but pumpkin guts stink. Or at least I think it was the pumpkin guts. Either that or wet dog.

For some reason ES and I kept losing each other. We’d each get caught up in taking pictures and then look up and the other one would have vanished into the crowd. Luckily we had our cell phones, though my battery was quickly running out at the end.

Later in the evening we met up with IS, who is back from Prague. Yay! It’s been a couple of years since I last saw her, but it was like no time had passed.

After another run through the now-lit jack o’ lanterns, we grabbed a late Greek dinner on Newbury Street, then headed back to ES’s place and spent the rest of the night entertaining ourselves with ES’s iPhotoBooth. We are easily amused.

Sunday was the Head of the Charles, my first time there, despite my three-year stint in Beanton in the mid-’90s. Lots of people, lots of boats.

The weather was gorgeous but it was hot/cold/hot/cold, depending on if we were in the sun and if there was wind. Besides the racing there were booths with giveaways – btw, Kashi bars are DISGUSTING – and junk food. (Hot dogs and fries – yay!)

Then it was time for me to go home. The train ride back felt much longer although I slept for a good part of it. I felt a little sad going from being surrounded by friends to being by myself again, but I was happy to be back in NYC, seeing that familiar skyline, and in my own place.

One quick post before I’m off to Boston for the weekend.

A quiet week overall. Lots of TV, I’m afraid, but there’s something good on every night! Caught up with Project Runway yesterday. Won’t give anything away to anyone who hasn’t seen it yet. Can’t believe Jaeda made it through another round on Model. Almost cried during Pam and Jim’s conversation on The Office. Just attack each other already!

Did a morning workout every day this week – yippee! Skin’s looking a little better. Perhaps hormonal, perhaps these free samples of expensive gook.

Starting to read I Know This Much Is True. Not bad so far, but the voice is like watered down Stephen King. I have the hard cover for some reason and it weighs about a million pounds. But a 3+ hour train ride is the perfect opportunity to read a lot and write a little.

Have a good weekend everyone.

Dessa. . .started talking about Angela – saying that sometimes now she could remember little things about her without feeling like she’d just been kicked in the stomach. She said she could still smell her sometimes – smell the memory of baby powder and milky breath as distinctly as if Angela were still alive. Still feel the warm, small heft of her body – the relaxation of her muscles as she drifted off to sleep.

. . .These returning memories comforted her. She said she felt they were gifts from God: He had taken Angela away from us, and now, in small ways, He had begun to give her back. It was something, she said, she could accept now. Something she could live with. We had made her; she had existed. She’d been more than just her death.

This book sat on my shelf for about 7 years before I finally picked it up. I don’t know why I waited so long. Maybe because it’s thick, nearly 900 pages, or maybe because it’s an Oprah book and I thought it might be trashy. It’s not.

I don’t know if it’s literature but it definitely drew me in and kept reading for all almost-900 pages. It seems most appropriate that I’m reading it now as opposed to 7 years ago. The events that were timely then – a war in Iraq, a president named Bush – are timely again.

Also, now with hindsight, I see how some of the characters are like certain people from my past. They have issues with rage, depression, and having a Job-complex, ie, thinking why God or some outside force has bombarded them with a multitude of unfortunate events.

I’ve never thought this way. If bad things happen to me, I don’t sit around wondering, Why me? Why am I being punished? I find it incredibly arrogant when people think they have been singled out by God or whomever to be punished.

Shit happens. What makes you so special that the forces that be have gone out of their way to single you, Joe schmoe, out of everyone in the world to test and punish? I always think, Unfortunate things happen, and although I may never have thought they’d happen to me, them’s the breaks.

It’s like standing with a crowd being pelted by eggs. You may or may not get hit. Several people have gotten hit already. If you get hit, you haven’t been singled out. It was going to happen or not going to happen, and it happened. Now deal with it.

Either you’ll wipe the egg off best you can and move on. Or you’ll stare at it for a little – or long – while, before moving on, or never moving on, just staring. Or you’ll go on about why you were singled out and hit while in the meantime others in the crowd are dripping with yolk and broken shells too.

I’m addicted to that new show Heroes. I love that the characters are just learning about their superpowers, not quite sure what they’re capable of, as well as the mystery around why they suddenly have these abilities, who the bad guy is, and the coming of the apacolypse.

Another small thing I enjoy is that when Hiro (yes, not too original but I still buy it) and his friend speak Japanese, the subtitles are more like comic book speech bubbles rather than traditional subtitles. Love it!

I’m so bummed that I missed this week’s episode, though apparently you can watch it online. Should I close my door and pretend I have a meeting or conference call, and instead watch TV? So tempting. . .

S. likes the show too, and he told me that Peter’s power is actually not flight but the ability to mimic others’ powers. That got me thinking: from the glimpses we’ve seen of the bad guy, he seems to have all the abilities of the collective heroes. In last week’s episode, he somehow knew where that little girl was (like the psychic cop), he survived getting shot (like the cheerleader), and he seemed to fly away (like Peter’s brother).

Perhaps Peter will turn evil and is actually the bad guy who has traveled back in time, like Hiro? “I didn’t recognize you without your scar,” he told Peter on the frozen subway. Hmm. . .

S. and I were joking that it was amazing that Hiro had spent enough time in the future to 1) learn English perfectly, 2) get a makeover, and 3) become a ninja, and yet not age a bit.

I missed the show because I was at a PEN American Center literary reading honoring the winners of the Beyond Marigns awards, which goes to outstanding writers of color. It was pretty good, though one guy gave answers that absolutely no sense. Another, Andrew Lam, gave pithy, well-thought out responses. I’m interested now in reading his memoir, Perfume Dreams: Reflections on the Vietnamese Diaspora. Another book to the every-growing list.

I’ve been very good this week about getting up early and hitting the gym before work. (Four miles on Monday, 4 on Tuesday, elliptical today.) I’ve also signed up for two RoadRunners races to qualify for next year’s marathon, the Race to Deliver, 4 miles, on 11/19, and a holiday 4 miler on 12/2. But I forgot that I have to meet my mom at Penn Station at some point during the day. I hope it’s in the afternoon.

When will my complexion settle down? I have a pimple on my chin and mad wrinkles on my forehead. Are you a teenager or a 34-year old? Make up your mind, face!

Besides dealing with skin issues, I had a fine little lowkey weekend. My massage Friday night was very nice. The oil my masseuse used smelled excellent, sage and eucaplytus, I believe, though I could have picked two mintier ones, a grapefruity one, or one that was rosy (while I like roses in person, rose-scented items make me think of little old ladies).

She could totally tell where my problem areas were: behind my right shoulderblade – all that mousing – and between my neck and shoulder on my left side, ie, where I carry my bag. When she kneaded that area by my right shoulderblade, it KILLED, though in a good way, but on my left it just felt good. Guess it’s really tight over there on the right.

I swear I think she pushed all my cold toxins to the surface because the bug that’s been brewing all week has finally come to a head. Coughing, sneezing, runny nose, though I feel better overall.

How I look on the other hand. I went to Sak’s to ask about these samples I received. The actual items are mucho dinero – like $200 for a little pot of night cream. No thanks! I did manage to wrangle some more free samples out of them, and for some reason she gave me a boatload for dark undereye circles. I’m sick! I wanted to shout. I don’t always look like this!

Saturday morning I was up early to help my friend snap some photos for promo materials for his next comedy gig. Took a lot – let’s hope some are usable.

I practiced using the “continuous” mode for the first time. Oh my God, so much fun. I tried it several times with him riding down the sidewalk on his skateboard. Flipping through the pictures quickly was like watching a little movie. I’ll have to find another excuse to use it again.

Did my beauty product run that afternoon. Besides Sak’s I hit Barney’s, and then I walked home. A beautiful but chilly day. I rested at my place for a bit before heading back out that evening to attend a concert one of my coworkers was performing in and had organized.

The performance was up near my alma mater so you’d think I’d know how to get there. But somehow I got on the wrong train and ended up in Harlem. Same street number, different avenue. I looked up from my book very confused and actually thought they had changed the name of the stop.

In the end I got to where I needed to go, and realized after that instead of a bus and a train, I could have taken one bus pretty much directly. Duh.

It was COLD that night. I had on a turtleneck, a track jacket, and a regular jacket. With my train mishap, I was a few minutes late and missed my coworker’s performance, but I’ve heard her sing before, and she was the only one I missed.

It was nice to get out and do something different. I don’t make it a habit of listening to classical music or opera, so it was good to expose myself to that. Plus I’m proud of myself for going even though I had no one to go with. I could have easily made an excuse about feeling sick and not wanting to go by myself, and just have stayed home and watched some stupid TV. But in going, I got out of the house, got some culture, and showed support to my friend and the arts. Woohoo!

Today was chore/errand day:

• balanced my checkbook
• switched my summer and fall/winter clothes
• got some Chinese medicine from Chinatown (licorice tablets for my itchy throat, the only thing that’s ever worked for me; had to hit four herbal shops to find it)
• picked up Asian groceries
• checked out Kiehl’s (didn’t buy, must show some resistance)
• bought some regular groceries
• cooked this beef/vegetable/curry concoction that looks gross but tastes good and will last me another two or three days

I am also tearing through this latest issue of Granta. I think I was out of practice with reading. Now that I’ve fallen back in the habit, I feel like I’m reading faster. Or maybe now I’m just used to doing it in spare moments throughout the day – waiting for the train, on the train, a few minutes here and there at work – as well as large chunks in the early morning and evening. Now I just need to fall back into the habit of writing again too.

I realized only recently that I’m learning to live alone again. Not on my own, of course I know how to do that. I thought the only thing I had to relearn was dating, but what’s more important is knowing how to live alone well and fully, not waiting for the next Big Love to come along, or waiting for the next Big Anything.

You spend all your time waiting for the next Big Whatever, you miss all the Smaller but Still Important Whatevers that are right in front of your face.

Your pimply, wrinkly face.

This morning I bit the bullet and got on the scale. My suspicions were right: I’ve gained some weight.

Yesterday my suit pants, which were practically falling off me in May, fit much better. That gave me a clue as to my extra poundage. (You’d think the brownies and chips and gelato would be enough.) Plus a feeling of general fatness.

This summer I was very lax with my workouts. I went from a strict five times a week to a lazy maybe three. Plus I had changed my schedule, going to the gym in the afternoons, which allowed me to rationalize having a sandwich at 5 before my workout, and then dinner at home around 7:30 or 8.

An extra meal a day + junky indulgences + fewer workouts = excess baggage

It’s just a few pounds so I’m not panicking. I know I just need to cut out desserts for a while as well as those extra meals. Plus exercising in the mornings will be better for me because:

1) I’ll get it overwith and won’t have the chance to miss a workout because of a late day at the office
2) I’ll feel calmer and more centered for the rest of the day
3) It’ll rev up my metabolism for several waking hours
4) I won’t feel the need for the extra meal in the late afternoon
5) I’m more energized in the morning and usually have better runs than in the 5 to 7 PM time period

On another only slightly related note, I hate it when people make sex noises when they work out. Am I at the gym or on a porn set?

Sheesh.