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

With my new job – well, not really new anymore – I don’t travel as much as I used to.  In my previous position, I traveled four or five times a year to places like Orlando, Chicago, and Las Vegas.  Now the extent of my journeys are to New Jersey or Connecticut.

Wednesday I went up to CT for training, and lemme tell ya, at first it was the trip that the universe did not want me to take.  First off, the rain.  If you’re in the tri-state area, you know what I mean.  Rain by monsoon proportions, to the point that a bunch of NJ Transit trains were canceled, and many were late.

Including mine.  You know when the board at Penn Station says “5 mins late,” it could actually mean up to an hour.  Plus the station was super hot and crowded, and you know how I get about crowds and heat.  I was actually hoping my train would be canceled altogether so that I could just go home.

The good news: the train was only about 15 minutes late, and I got a window seat.  The bad?  It was fuh-REE-zing and I was sitting right near these jabbery law students who just took the bar.  The good news?  They shut up right quick.

There were lots of cabs waiting at the station, unlike the time I went to NJ for work and it was totally deserted till I flagged a policeman down (by mistake) thinking he was a cab.  Got to the hotel, the Mystic Marriott, lickety split, and I relished walking into the luxiuriously A/C’d lobby and up to check-in, brandishing my corporate card, only to be told:

“We’re so sorry, but we’ve had some flooding and we’ll have to walk you to another hotel.”

You’re kidding me.  All these people hanging out in the restaurant have rooms, but there’s not a single one for me? Plus I was tired and hungry, and now would have to walk in the muggy misty weather with my luggage to another hotel.

“Well no, we’ll get you a taxi.”

Okay, that’s different. 

“And the room is on us.  Free of charge.”

Sweet!  Not that I really cared since my company was picking up the bill.

As I was waiting for the taxi, I called MB to bitch and moan.  Then as I was standing there, who walks in but Howie Mandel.  Random and weird!  He was rocking the shaved head, earrings, and soul patch, and dressed in what looked like motorcycle attire although he had arrived in a minivan with assistant in tow.  I interrupted MB to say, too loudly, “Howie Mandel just walked in!”  I don’t know if Howie heard me.  He just sort of looked around like he was thinking of buying the place.  Then I pointed at him and shouted, “NO DEAL!”  And all my family members shook their heads.

He was probably performing at Foxwoods or something.

I ended up running into someone else from my company in the same situation, so we shared the cab to the other hotel.  This guy was not a happy camper.  I told him about my Howie Mandel sighting, and in response he said, “I am pissed off about this hotel situation.”  But what bout Howie?

I personally didn’t care.  Just as long as I had a decent hotel room I could kick back in and order room service.

The room was pretty nice.  It’s a brand new Hilton and my room still had that new carpet smell.  The bedding and bathroom were spotless.  But then I started to notice little things, like that the bathroom door wouldn’t stay open.  Then when I tried to call room service, there was no answer.  So I called the front desk and they couldn’t hear me.

Them: “Hello?”

Me: “Hello?”

Them: “Hello?”

Me: “Hello?”

Luckily the other phone worked, but room service was closed!  At 10 PM!  What the fuck’s the point of room service if you can’t have it till at least 11?

“Dominoe’s delivers,” the guy said, and I hurled a little in my mouth.

I went downstairs and asked if there was anything within walking distance, and was told there was a diner right up the street.  It wasn’t far but it’s always weird to walk someplace that’s not made for walking, especially at night and foggy, misty weather.  From the road I could see the restaurant was dark, though there was a giant OPEN sign in the doorway.  I got closer and saw yes it was indeed closed.  A diner closed by 10:30.  We’re not on the Lower East Side anymore, Toto.

I schlepped back and mentioned to the guy, not unkindly, “It was closed,” and resigned myself to a frozen dinner (at least the hotel had those). I went to pay and the guy said, “It’s on the house.  I made you walk all the way out there and it was closed.”

At least they did that much.

I haven’t had a frozen dinner in I don’t know how many years, and I rememberd why.  It was pretty gross.  The meatloaf *might* have been meat at some point, and the potatoes smelled and tasted like potatoes, but it felt like I was eating air.  Plus it was so freaking hot, I totally burned the roof of my mouth, but then it got lukewarm really fast.

The good news?  I was able to catch a Ghost Hunters International (shut up) that I hadn’t seen, the hotel was extremely quiet, and the bed was nice and firm.  I slept like a baby for those five hours.

The next morning I was up early to take another cab out to my company site.  The guy was one of those chatty, joking types, which I wasn’t in the mood for at 7:30 in the morning on little sleep and not enough coffee.  He said, “You’re from New York, aren’t you?”  When I affirmed as such, he said, “I knew it! It’s written there right across your forehead.”  Then he said it again a few minutes later.

He mentioned apropos of nothing about having been in the army for 30 years.  I said, “Oh my boyfriend was in the army for four years – ”

“Boyfriend?” the cabby said. “You’ve been cheating on me?”

Heheh.  Okay creepy old guy.

He turned normal though when I just started babbling about all my travel and hotel troubles.  Not that I’d ever want to hang out with him again.

The training was fine, neither exciting nor painful.  The site in CT is much nicer than in New York – the view for one.  They have these floor to ceiling windows, and the building is right on the water so I kept getting distracted looking out at the boats and dipping seagulls.

The trip back home was much less eventful.  The weather yesterday was sunny and fairly dry, and the train much less freezing.  And I had no annoying seatmate.

Next up: the ‘rents’ this weekend, and Boston and San Francisco next month. Hopefully the universe will be on my side.

I’ve been regularly perusing the SF job listings.  This one caught my eye at first, but then upon closer inspection, it seemed horrible:

About you
* Lives to write; writes to live. You know who you are. Pencils down.

Okay, yes, that’s me.

* Has a fire in the belly. Walks through walls. Takes no prisoners. In a word: driven. Even when no one is watching. Especially then.

These sentences sum up someone I would really really hate.

* Social connector. You are the hub of your social world. You know everyone. Everyone knows you. You are the Mayor. The fun one. Diplomatic, too.

As YP put it, am I the Mayor of Fun Town? More like the Treasurer of Cynical-ville, of Leave-Me-Alone-burg, of People-Are-So-Annoying-Capital-City.

* Have more than a few years of post-graduate professional experience (existing managers have 5 to 15 years).

YES! Yay!

Other fun requirements:
* 4-year college degree
* Currently residing or open to relocating to the North Bay
* Experience with social networking, guerilla marketing tactics, and event planning

What makes these “fun” requirements? Fun requirements would be has big clown feet, or can juggle, or does a really good Fat Albert imitation. You know they put down “requirements” and thought, Oh no, the cool kids and hipsters will think we’re the man! Better stick “fun” in front of it.

Needless to say, I won’t apply. That’s what I get for looking in the marketing section.

In this weekend’s New York Times magazine, there was an article about two dimensional love in Japan.

Now I don’t mean teenaged girl love for that Corey Haim Tiger Beat poster, or even adolescent boy love for the Hustler centerfold. I mean thirty-something men “in love” with body pillows decaled with images of pre-pubescent, female anime characters.

There’s one 37-year old dude who carries around his “girlfriend” (his words) wherever he goes – restaurants, driving, the karaoke bar. There’s another guy who espouses the joys of non-monogramy with his variety of cushiony companions. Finally, there’s someone who is actually, um, intimate with his literal love objects.

I’m not sure what I find more disturbing: the fact that these are synthetic sweethearts, or that they are embossed with images of very young girls.

I think that second thing.

Are these men who get off on images of 10-year olds just a few steps away from moving onto the real thing?

Recently I had a conversation with a friend about whether just looking at child pornography was wrong. Well, of course it is, you’d think. Although maybe technically that person isn’t hurting anyone, they are still participating and supporting the hurting of whomever is in whatever they are looking at. But I think we also all assume that they are thisclose to actually going out and molesting a kid themselves.

On the other hand, what about people who are into other violent kinks? Are they necessarily going to go out there and enact that kink against someone unwilling?

And what if the image of the 10 to 12-year old is a cartoon? In that case, no one is really being exploited.

THEN AGAIN, that cartoon image is a representation, albeit incorrect, of real preteens, just like cartoon women with ginormous breasts and no body fat may exploit real women, at least to those who don’t know the different between a picture and reality, or racist cartoons exploit whomever they are targeting.

Hmm.

Either way, I feel kinda bad for that Nisan guy. He looks incredibly sad and pathetic in the picture accompanying the article. MB had another take: in Japan there’s not much therapy. It’s not like the US when people, myself included, go on and on about their problems. In Japanese culture you’re pretty much left alone to get through whatever troubles you might be having. So the body pillow is a way for this guy to get through his troubles (ie, a girlfriend recently dumping him), and people just let it go.

The guy does say of course most men into this 2D stuff would prefer real women, but that they feel like no women want them.  Or they’re too scared to find out.

Is this really so different from a teenager kissing her poster of John Taylor (not that I ever did that, cough), or a little kid who is inseparable from his favorite stuffed toy?  I guess the difference is the teenager and little kid grow out of it.

So that movie Julie & Julia comes out pretty soon.

Whenever I see a poster (or giant billboard) for it, I think back to when I heard Julie Powell and other bloggers speak.  If you don’t already know, Julie Powell had a blog about how she cooked all the recipes in a Julia Child cookbook.  From her innocent little blog, she got a great big book deal, and from the book, she now has a gigantic movie starring Meryl Streep and Amy Adams, and directed by Nora Ephron.

Not that I’m jealous.

What I also remember was how annoying Julie Powell was on the panel.  While everyone else calmly told their stories, she repeatedly called her experience “lame” and “stupid,” to the point that I had to leave early.  I mean, I understand she might have been embarrassed and surprised to have such success, but at some point you just have to suck it up and be gracious.  But that was a few years ago.  She’s probably an old pro at it by now.

Of course I would love that same kind of success off my blog, but I don’t really see it.  What made Powell’s blog so appealing was that it was a clever, succint idea – Julie’s life while cooking Julia Child’s recipes.  Genius!  I’m serious.  My blog, like a lot of people’s, is sort of all over the place.  I mean, it’s me.  It’s relationships, dating, it’s what I had for lunch.  But I guess it was also my memoir in rough draft.

It’s funny to read that blog post from three years ago.  I was working on my memoir even then!  Who knew it’d take so damned long.  I’m a lot more hopeful than I was back then.  It’s freeing to not worry about trying to get my book published but to know I have the power to put it out there.  Just as long as people are reading it, that’s all I care about.

Here’s my review, if you’re interested.

It’s been a while since I’ve done a blabbery update.

This weekend, which feels ages ago, was pretty quiet.  MB has been working hard on his various projects, and I finally started working on my very last library science paper, which meant researching then printing all the billion articles.  I’ve only read a handful so far.

Monday I got home pretty early, and it was so nice out we decided to take a walk and find a place to sit and read.  Originally we wanted to go to this Italian gelato/pastry shop we like, but for some reason it was closed.  So we ended up in Washington Square Park.

It’s nice that park has finally opened back up.  The area around the arch was closed for a long time for repairs. 

We somehow ended up near a weird mix of people – an Italian family, a ragtag bunch of homeless people having a picnic, two other possibly homeless guys who REEKED of alcohol, some 20-something white kids, and a couple of guys on guitars singing “Hey Jude.”  At one point they got the crowd to sing along with them, which was pretty cool.  Needless to say it was hard for me to concentrate, while MB totally zeroed in on his reading with no problem.

Yesterday at work was pretty busy.  I didn’t get to go to the gym till the end of the day – but at least I went! – and didn’t get home till almost 8.  MB made pasta with tomato basil sauce and grilled chicken.  Yum!

We’ve started watching True Blood via Netflix.  It’s really good!  I feel like I’ve been bombarded by vampires lately, between that show and recently finishing up the Twilight series.  The last book, Breaking Dawn, was really good!  It was probably the best one in the series.

I haven’t applied to any other jobs yet.  Nothing has popped up on Craig’s List or the ALA job list that have appealed to me.  MB said that I didn’t have to work if I didn’t want to, that he’d be happy to support me if I wanted to take some time off and just write.  That sounds really nice, and if everything works out, I might just take him up on his offer, at least for a few months.

How quickly I’ve gone from “I must keep my job!” to “Maybe I won’t work at all.”  Of course the only way that would happen is if MB got a really good gig, which is basically the deciding factor as to whether we move to SF at all.  Right now we feel like it would be dumb to go with BOTH of us unemployed.

I kind of love the idea of not having to go to an office and deal with politics and worry about stuff.  The drawback may be that I’d have too much time on my hands, though I could make a conscious effort to put tons of energy into my writing – working on a new project, publicizing myself and my memoir, trying to network, entering contests, contacting agents.

I was remembering back when I was secretary and how productive I was in terms of my writing.  In those three or four years, I wrote two novels and several short stories.  I busted my ass trying to get an agent, and came close a couple of times.  Two of my short stories were published.  In recent years, while I have been working steadily on my memoir, my energy had been channeled elsewhere – library school and getting a new job. With library school (almost) finished and with a future of possibly not having to work, I’ll have the chance, and no excuse, to have that kind of intensity about my writing again.

I’d be a total housewife.  A Real Housewife of San Francisco.

I applied for my first job in San Francisco.  It’s for a medical association and involves editing, website work, and event planning.  Seems right up my alley though it pays much less than my current job (like less than half).  But a) at this point I’ll take anything, b) it has good benefits plus 401K, and c) with the stress of a move and living in a new city, an easy job would be ideal.

I don’t know how open they’ll be to possibly interviewing me when I’m there next month, and if they believe I will actually move in early September.  But it may take a couple of weeks for them to even get to my resume, and who knows how long the whole process would take, if they’re even interested that is.

I’m pretty much over the disappointment of not being able to work remotely.  Now I’m in the bitter phase.  I can’t help but think of the rejection of my application as, well, a rejection, and that if they truly valued me, they’d keep me on.  Then a certain individual totally pissed me off.  She has this habit of not addressing me directly in email; rather she asks the other person if I know something or need something instead of asking me directly.  She refers to me in the third person to tell people they can contact me for something.

And yesterday, I sent her an email asking her for something specific, cc’ing my boss.  She came back with a question, and no, she didn’t ask me.  She asked my boss, and completely ignored me.  Even if she thought I didn’t have the answer, she could have at least addressed me, or left me out of the email chain altogether.

And someone else who annoyed me was this pissant little intern we have here for the summer.  I had at first pegged her as one of those overly ambitious types, setting up unnecessary meetings to “network,” and blowing her little projects out of proportion.  We had lunch, and I temporarily changed my mind, thinking she was pretty nice.  I showed her how to set up something in Sharepoint – well, I set it up for her, made from a template I had created long ago – and told her she could customize it.

From our conversation, I knew she didn’t know shit about Sharepoint or HTML, but the next day, she was showing the site to her boss, whose office incidentally is right next to mine, and her boss said, “Wow, you set this up! This looks great!” and the pissant little intern did not correct her but took the credit.

My immediate reaction was, “What the fuck?”  Then I checked the site to see if she had changed it: a big fat no.

Wow, people, I guess you don’t want my help with things.

I have to say I’ve only experienced this with female co-workers: the back biting, the passive aggressive attitude, the stealing and competitiveness.  In the decade I’ve worked at this company, it’s been women women women who have given me grief.  And it’s so retarded because I’m not even ambitious.  I just want credit for the work I’ve done.

I’m starting to not feel so bad about possibly leaving.

Ah well.

I met with my boss this morning, and my interpretation is that my reason for mobile working isn’t “real” enough.   If I had a disabled or sick relative, or problems with child care, then sure.  And, I suspect, if I had said, “My husband got a job transfer,” as opposed to, “My boyfriend and I would like to move out to San Francisco,” things might have gone differently.  But I think it’s better to be honest.

I was okay with it as my boss was telling me.  Then I got very disappointed very fast.  Before getting my answer, I was quite gung ho about moving out there “no matter what.”  But faced with the reality of not having a job while doing a big move, I felt nervous.  More than nervous: really scared.

There are so many people who have been laid off, and here I am willing to just quit a well-paying (easy) job.  What if I can’t find a job?  What if we run out of money?  What if God forbid something happens and we don’t have health insurance?

Then I talked to MB and of course I felt better.

I think we will be okay.

Safety net: next month when we go, if MB feels like he has absolutely no prospects, we’ll can the idea.  “I’m not dumb,” he said.  Till then he is busting his ass working on his projects, marketing them, networking, etc., etc.

I had told him how my mother freaked out, and said, “Listen to mommy,” about taking the safe route, and he felt bad imagining my mother crying.

“Your mom is so nice,” he said.  “I don’t want her to cry.”

He’s the one who’s nice!  I was basically like, “What’s wrong with you?” to my mother, and told her she was freaking over nothing.

So.  I will start keeping my eye out for jobs in SF, with the understanding that I probably won’t have much of a chance till I actually get out there.  I’ll try not to spend a lot of money, and will look forward to our little sojourn next month.

I know horoscopes are malarkey but mine for July still made me feel better:

A new family of eclipses is always headline news for every sign, and it’s particularly so for you, dear Aries. . . .Your lifestyle may change dramatically now or in time, and the changes may be ones you’ve initiated yourself or ones that you didn’t plan but that you need to conform to. Don’t worry, however – both eclipses coming by this month will be friendly and will see to it that any news will eventually work to your favor. Aries more than most signs are very flexible and adventurous. See what is coming as a new and exciting twist to the movie about your life, starring you!

. . . .At the same time, all eclipses have a little kick in them that will add a little twist that you had not anticipated. That will keep things interesting, so don’t worry about that – you are ready for what is coming. While many people would be content to go on as they have so far, it’s easy to get stagnant, so this eclipse will stir things up a bit and ask you to respond.

In the end, things will go your way. Of course, you must be organized and focused on finding something better. If your job should change not in July but later, it may be on or near January 15, when the next solar eclipse in Capricorn will arrive in this same part of your chart.

Kinda weird!

I made my case, and he said that while he has no doubt that I’d be able to do the work from California, his concern is about my career growth, which is something MB had mentioned, that working off-site might make my job very task-oriented – which to tell the truth, it kind of already is.  My boss said he’s going to talk to a few people, and I should have an answer by the end of the week.

We also finally booked our hotel.  I had gotten to a point that I was doing so much research that I was paralyzed.  MB helped me last night, and ended up picking the one I had originally picked in the first place.  But he’d have been happy with whatever I chose.  “If I relinquish responsibility,” he said, “I have to be fine with whatever your decision is.”

This is just how a I feel – with freedom of responsibility comes acceptance of whatever the other person decides.  But other people don’t feel this way.  I’ve been burdened with the responsibility of handling something, then being criticized for my choice afterwards.  I’d even go to this individual for feedback during the decision process, only to be met with annoyance.

Anyway, our hotel is in Japantown and is reasonable at $101 a night for a “renovated king” with free wireless.  Other nicer hotels were $150 and above, and there were some B&Bs for $80-$120 but I am not sure I’m a B&B person.  Also, there was one super cheap place – about $60 a night – that was highly rated on TripAdvisor.  Why is it so cheap?  Shared bathroom!  I had to dig through the reviews to find that tidbit.

I read reviews that the rooms at our choice are small, but what do we care.  As long as they’re clean.  Plus I can use my Amex points there, which ends up paying for more than half.  That means around $200 for four nights, or around $50 a night.  Woohoo!  My cheap Chinese blood is happy.

After we (hopefully) move, I want to go down to L.A. and see my grandmother.  According to my brother and mother, she has really changed in the last few years.  When before she was fat and vivacious, with perfectly coifed jet black (dyed) hair, make up, and jewelery, now she’s a bag of bones who doesn’t speak.  She’s had a series of strokes over the years, which before just slurred her speech, but now she can’t talk at all.  Plus she has let her hair go white.  That for some reason makes me saddest of all.

Rats.  Lots and lots of rats.  Like in what is supposed to be the secure garbage “cage” in front of the building next door, squealing and squeaking and jumping all over each other as I walk by.

No, I will not miss that about New York.

And do not tell me San Francisco has rats too.