body

A nice weekend in the city

On Friday, I was able to take advantage of summer half-day Fridays and leave at 2 to hit the Container Store for some sort of storage facility for my collection of shopping bags that I simply cannot part with.

Before, they were stashed in other bags under my table in the kitchen. Then earlier this week, a cockroach the size of Danny DeVito zoomed out of my bathroom, into the kitchen, and behind those bags!

The roach was so big it made rustling sounds as it passed behind the bags, and moved so slowly – relative to that type of vermin – that I was able to contemplate for a moment whether or not to take a picture of it before finally killing it with an old Time Out New York magazine (the cheap issue!). That’s a long of saying I felt I needed to remedy the shopping bag situation.

After much musing at the store, I finally settled on two folding mesh cubes, one large for big bags and one small for little ones. At first I wasn’t 100% sure about them, thinking I needed something with a cover, but after going through the bags and not finding a squirming, hairless nest of baby mice like I’d been imagining, I felt better about my purchases. It also helped to throw about 2/3 of the bags away.

What’s cool about the cubes is that I can fit one inside the other, and also when I’m not using them, they can be folded and stored away without taking up much space.

While I was organizing my kitchen, I thought I’d clean it too. Also did a load of laundry and read quite a bit of The Kite Runner, which by the way is AMAZING. I cry about every five pages.

Saturday my plan was to write a lot, but I didn’t get as much done as I wanted. I wrote a scene for my memoir and had also wanted to start revising a couple of pieces, but I didn’t get that far. Instead I cleaned my bathroom, then walked down to Home Depot for a shower curtain liner.

I also stopped in Sam Flax for some fabric paint and brushes to finish the T-shirts I started in DC last weekend. I found the fabric paint but not the brushes, so I inquired.

“Oh, those are new,” the salesgirl said dismissively. “You’ll only find those in a big store.”

The Sam Flax I went to was pretty darned big by Manhattan standards. “So a regular brush would be okay?” I said.

“It worked for Rembrandt,” she responded.

I wasn’t sure if she was being snide but my gut reaction was feeling wounded. I put back all the fabric paint and decided not to buy the laptop sleeve I was thinking about.

As I walked back uptown, I started to get more and more pissed off. Later that night I dashed off a complaint, saying that I’d probably never shop there again. To their credit, they wrote back pretty quickly, apologizing, wanting details (who, when, where), and giving me a $10 gift card. Sweet! Though I’d have to pick it up at that store. Eep.

Sometimes I don’t know if I’m being sensitive or if someone is really rude. Usually I think the latter, but there are times I doubt myself. I think customer service in NY is pretty sucky overall. When I go out to L.A., I’m amazed at how nice everyone is.

Anyway, I wanted to clear my yucky feeling so I walked up to the Met and took a quick look around. Being in a museum always restores a feeling of peace for me.

By the time I got home it was already 5. I was seeing a movie with YP later so I only had time to clean the bedroom before getting ready. (Cleaning takes such a long frigging time.) We saw Nancy Drew, which was cute and fun. It’s nice to see a girl as an action hero – and an action hero in penny loafers! Her outfits were so adorable. I want every single one.

Sunday I finally was able to get a lot of writing done. I find I get more work done if I’m sitting in a cafe rather than my place with all of its distractions. In the late afternoon I went for a run in the Park. Five miles around the Loop, yay!

This run was much better than my first one, when I pooped out after just a three miles, having not hydrated properly and starting out too fast. This time I made sure to drink a ton of water beforehand, and to begin very slowly. It helped that there was this guy in an ING Marathon shirt in front of me. He was going much faster than I was, but I was able to keep him in my sights. Little did he know he was my rabbit.

The weather couldn’t have been better. Cool and dry. Running in the Park is so much fun. I’m totally doing it again over the days we have off this week.

At home I finished cleaning my place – finally! Now let’s see how little work I can do this week. ;)

sleep / work / writing — 5 Comments
21
Jun 07

Nothing much to report

Except that I’m oh so very tired.

Monday night I took the red eye back to New York. Unlike the first leg of my trip, this one left early and got in early. Unfortunately, the bags took for-EV-er to arrive. I was at baggage claim at 6:15 AM, but didn’t get to leave till 7.

At home I crashed till about 12:30. That, in combination with my having become accustomed to Pacific time, meant I didn’t go to sleep that night till after 1. Then up at 7.

Not bad, but while last night I drifted off at 10:30, I woke up at 4, started thinking about work, then couldn’t sleep anymore. At least I got a lot of personal stuff done at home before I left – polishing my resume, working on a short story – as well as actual work stuff this morning.

I’ve been craving salty foods and have been totally going overboard. Between all the miso soup, crunchy Asian snacks, and sausage this morning, my mouth is a pickle.

I applied for a few positions here at my company. Wait and see. Also yesterday an agency person approached me about applying for a job. That’s appealing because we’ve done so much work with that agency, and I really like the person who approached me. But it’s in New Jersey so the commute might be a pain. Then again, a lot of their clients are in New York.

I’m back and forth about what I want to do. While I do think another corporate job wouldn’t be that different from my current one, at least the people would be different. That’s the real kicker.

For the long-term I’m exploring a variety of options. The freelance writing/travel thing, the library science thing (why, I’m not even sure). In August a school here is having an open house about their program so I can see if it’s even something I want to do.

Next week I’m meeting up with the daughter of my parents’ friends. I believe she’s a freelance journalist. She *was* an attorney, but then she got divorced, said screw it all, and pursued her real dream.

Her parents aren’t happy but who cares. It’s not like they’re supporting her financially. They’re just worried since freelancing is less “stable” than a corporate job. But what’s the worst that could happen? It’s not like she has kids to feed. And she could probably find another corporate job if need be.

I’m really looking forward to speaking with her. Makes me feel like I’m actually doing something about my writing, beyond just, well, writing.

I’ve been so occupied these past couple of weeks, I’ve hardly thought about H. He’s reactivated his online ad. I went in to find email messages from DK (fodder for an essay) and noticed. I was surprised that it didn’t bother me. I mean, why should it? I went on a dating site too (for a split second anyway).

Poor guy. He won’t find anyone else as cool as me. ;)

rant and/or rave / spa — 5 Comments
21
Apr 07

You say spa, I say torture chamber

Last night as part of my week-long self-imposed 35th birthday extravaganza – which began with yummy burgers and fries with SB on Wednesday, and continued with my leaving work “sick” at 11:30 on Thursday, going home to take a nap and gorge myself on a s’mores birthday cupcake – I treated myself to a massage and facial.

I love a good massage and don’t mind being touched by a stranger. As I’m lying there, I don’t really think I’m being rubbed up by Person A but by these disembodied hands. But last night was different. My masseuse – an Amazonian red head with the unlikely name of Miles – had to go and make conversation beforehand. She saw my book, Wicked, thus beginning a short and pleasant chat about Gregory Maguire’s books.

So when the massage began, I could no longer think “disembodied hands.” I thought “Miles” and felt rather weird. But soon I forgot about this. Maybe it was the dim lights, or the soothing music, or the faint smell of lavendar and eucalyptas. Or maybe it was that Miles started beating me senseless.

I could take the kneading of my shoulder muscles, and the bending back of my fingers, and even the hard rub down that nerve in my thigh, but when she started to attack the knots around my shoulder blades, I began to understand how Tom Skerritt felt in Opposing Force.

“Ow,” I said as she pressed down, thinking she’d let up. Most masseuses do. After all it’s a customer service industry. Miles didn’t.

“Take a deep breath,” she said.

Wrong answer! But I did, though my nose and out my mouth, and it actually helped.

Then she did it again – and again! “C’mon,” she said. “You can do it.”

Wait, wasn’t this supposed to be relaxing? But in a way, it did feel good, in combination with the deep breathing and the tears pouring from my eyes.

But she wasn’t done yet. Next she attacked the nerves in my ass cheeks, and bent my legs in half so hard I thought my quads would snap. (I couldn’t imagine her doing the same to one of the doughy ladies in the waiting room.) And yes, at the end I gave her a tip. A good one too.

Next up was the facial. Have you ever noticed how during these treatments you regress to an infant? You lie there unmoving, helpless, naked. Your body parts get moved around, you get swaddled up in towels and blankets.

Usually I’m into it, at least for a little while, but perhaps the facial went too far. After applying a mask, the woman covered my entire face with gauze, except for tiny air holes for my nose and mouth. I was already covered with a sheet and towel, which she pulled up to my ears. Then she left the room.

Although I had no problem breathing, I felt like I was having trouble so I quickly yanked an arm out of my mummy wrap and widened my nose air hole . I imagined Michael Jackson with his face all wrapped up except for a tiny sliver of a non-existent nose.

I lay there and lay there. I tried to relax. I listened to the relaxing music which suddenly seemed creepy, like the soundtrack of a David Lynch movie. I touched my nose again. Air hole still intact. I opened my eyes and tried to see through the gauze. Too warm suddenly, I moved my limbs around trying to escape the seemingly endless sheet.

I began to panic. Was she ever coming back? Could I take the gauze off my face? Would I get in trouble if I did? Were those footsteps? Was it her? Would I be here forever?

Finally, she returned. She seemed to have been gone for an inordinate amount of time but it was probably only about 15 minutes. As she removed the gauze and loosened the blankets, I felt utter relief, as though I were being born again, but with clear skin and (temporarily) clean blackheads. Now if only I could learn to go on the potty.

awareness / relationships / running / weekends / writing — 3 Comments
15
Apr 07

Another one bites the dust

Weekend that is.

Today was a hermit day. It’s been raining and raining, and I haven’t wanted to go outside. I definitely didn’t want to take mass transit, and I didn’t want to walk in the rain just to get soaked. Plus I may have a tiny cold.

The vibe in my writing class is very good. Maybe because the teacher is a good combination of mellow and assertive – and he knows what he’s talking about – and everyone gets along so well. Well, almost everyone. But it’s not like she’s mean, just annoying. And she wasn’t in class on Thursday. Woohoo!

This week’s nugget: literary voice is biological. Some French philosopher said it. Don’t fight your strenghts but play them up. My literary voice is spare and clean. I’ve wished it were richer, like Michael Chabon’s, but I just can’t do it. So I don’t try anymore. I go with what I know.

Friday I took the day off to hit the Small Press Center’s fourth annual New York writers’ conference. I went to almost all nonfiction panels, except during the agent one I left because the focus seemed to be on commercial nonfiction rather than memoir, which is more like a novel. So I popped into the fiction agents panel.

Nuggets from the conference:

An author on writers’ group feedback: “If one person says it, grain of salt. But if two people say it, it’s something to consider.”
A great title is important. Duh, right? Examples of great titles: The Year of Magical Thinking, Angela’s Ashes, The Lucifer Effect.
Something important to agents is to show that you’re really a writer, not someone for whom writing is a hobby or a whim. Show that you’ve tried to get published in the right places, even if you haven’t actually gotten published.

Yesterday was a quiet yet productive day. Spent the morning updating my checkbook and organizing my files. Hung out with SB and Ellie for a few hours in the afternoon. Ellie insisted on walking most of the way to the farmer’s market so that took a year and a half.

She also insisted I come inside afterwards to play. What’s hilarious is that one of her stuffed toys, a hedgehog, somehow got named after one of my friends, Aki, who visited a couple of weeks ago. So all afternoon we’re calling this stuffed hedgehog Aki. “Where’s Aki, Ellie? Go get Aki!”

When it was time for Ellie’s nap (although of course she insisted it wasn’t), I booked, hitting a few stores for provisions. Late in the afternoon I actually felt inspired enough to run. Four miles, woohoo! though my left leg is sore today, from my hamstring through the arch of my foot, which always seems to happen when I run hills outside. I probably overextend.

Today, like I said, was extremely lazy. I’m not dreading work this week, for a change. Last week I finally tackled some stuff I’d been putting off for a long time. I bought this book on how to stop worrying, and I’m beginning to understand my procrastination and worry go hand in hand, that they’re like this vicious cycle that I can break out of by assigning to each “worry” simple steps that have immediate action.

That’s productive worry. Then there’s the unproductive kind, like that I’ll never remarry. But there’s only so much control I have over that and also I should look at the reasons behind this worry. Right now? I just came out of something that seemed promising so I’m bummed and lonely. Am I afraid of being alone? No. Do I feel like I have nothing else in my life? No.

An uncertain future doesn’t necessarily equal a bad future.

Usually I peruse the marriage announcements in the Times to see if there’s anyone I know, but today I looked for people my age or older. There were quite a few actually.

Today I was struck with the idea of saving up to a buy a little house by the water. By what water, who knows. I got a tax refund this year for a change so I feel encouraged in the financial area. I’ve been resistant to looking for something to buy, maybe because I thought I had to live in the city, but I like the idea of a little spinster house, all my own. That would be my dream, to write in my little house and come to the city for long visits, and other friends’ cities for visits, and travel everywhere.

body — 3 Comments
29
Mar 07

Get Gorgeous skin update

So it’s been about six months since I started ingesting lots of Get Gorgeous tea, at least three, sometimes four cups almost every day.

And you know what? I can’t remember the last time I had a pimple.

The main ingredient of Get Gorgeous is the rooibos herb, which has lots of antioxidants and boosts the immune system.

Also, I’ve been using Philosophy’s Pigment of Your Imagination SPF 18, which contains kojic acid, a natual pigment inhibitor with antibacterial properties.

But who knows? Maybe my hormones are changing gears once again as I approach the big 3-5. Yikes!

food / relationships / sleep — 6 Comments
21
Mar 07

Tired today

Had one of those mornings when I woke up at 5 and couldn’t sleep anymore. And I went to bed kinda late too, after 11.

Tried catching up on Heroes online last night. In the middle of the latest episode, the website froze for some reason. So annoying.

Had dinner with H. on Monday. We ate at this place I like in Chinatown. Pork and crab xiao long bao, shredded pork in garlic sauce, and baby bok choy with mushrooms. Yum!

My favorite dish at that restaurant is the lion’s head. I guess you could say it’s the red variety which they serve with bok choy. I wasn’t sure if H. would like it so I refrained from ordering it, but afterwards when I described it to him, he said it sounded good. They also almost always have chou dofu, which I have yet to be brave enough to try.

For some reason I’m in the mood for shopping. Maybe cuz spring is in the air though there’s still some snow on the ground. I may hit some stores after work. I’d really like some nice high heeled brown leather boots, which you’d think would be easy to find but so far are not. Either they reach practically up the thigh, or they have 5 inch stiletto heels, or they’re too chunky. Will have to continue my search.

rant and/or rave / running — 6 Comments
31
Jan 07

Why I Love Running

Because it feels good
Because even when it doesn’t feel good, it feels better afterwards
Because I always feel better afterwards and never worse
Because no other exercise is its equal
Because it makes me feel superior
Because it makes me feel like an alien being who does this crazy thing and barely gets out of breath
Because I can climb stairs and barely get out of breath
Because my red blood cells love it
Because my lungs love it
Because of the sweat
Because of the hot shower afterwards
Because of the peace afterwards
Because I can pig out afterwards
Because it makes me crave healthy food
Because it helps me sleep well
Because it keeps colds away
Because of runner’s thighs, butt, and calves
Becuase of skinny ankles
Because it gives me good posture
Because it makes me nimble
Because it’s free
Because it’s freeing
Because it clears my mind
Because it’s one of the few times my mind and body meld
Because I’m not such a great dancer but running to dance music makes me feel like I am
Because of the high
Because it saved me when I was at my lowest low
Because I love speeding past people on the sidewalk
Becuase I was always one of the fastest kids
Becuase it’s the closest I get to childhood
Because I can do it
Because if I were ever on a Lord of the Rings-type journey, I could keep up with Legolas, or at least Aragorn
Because of the sprint
Because of resisting the sprint
Because it’s the closest I get to flying

friends / running / sleep / spa / weekends — 1 Comment
30
Dec 06

I hate my upstairs neighbor

I know I’m a total old lady for wanting to go to sleep at 10:30 on a Saturday, but I was up at 7:30, ran 5 miles, had lunch with SB and played with Ellie for two hours, walked 25 blocks to my facial, made the mistake of trying to battle through holiday crowds down 5th Avenue to get to Koreatown, started to walk home, tried to take the subway at 59th Street only to find out the trains were screwy, and walked the 18 blocks home.

So I’m tired and don’t appreciate John Cougar Mellencamp – yes, that’s right, John frigging Cougar Mellancamp (yes, I thought the ’80s were over too) – being blasted, followed by much pacing back and forth in what can only be cement-filled shoes. Of course it’s quiet now that I’m thoroughly awake.

Well, the good thing is I did indeed have a lovely day. The 5 miles this morning came surprisingly easily, especially considering I ran 4 miles yesterday. I could have done 6 today but my achilles tendon felt sore.

I came home to find a voicemail from SB. I thought she, her hubby, and Ellie had gone to DC for the week, but unfortunately she and her husband caught some stomach flu over Christmas. I went over to her place for lunch. (They’re better now, by the way.)

Ellie was her usual hilarious self. Her new thing is pointing at me and saying, “Who dis?” when she knows perfectly well who I am, but gets bent out of shape when I say, “I’m Ellie.”

“No!” she cries. “I Ellie!”

If you’re gonna dish it out, kid, you gotta take it.

I told SB how I’ve decided a very long break from dating. She seemed surprised, which surprised me since everyone else I’ve told has been supportive. I know she thinks I want to have a kid and that I’d better hurry it up and meet someone quick. No thanks.

Although individuals in passing have appealed to me, I have no desire to actively seek dates right now. The idea of on-line or speed dating gives me a headache. I guess I still want to have kids someday, but, and this may sound silly, but I want it to happen serendipitiously. If I happen to meet the right someone, or if the right circumstances come about, or if the universe knocks me unconscious with a sign.

Maybe it’s passive, and I suppose if I really, really wanted a baby, I’d be more active about it, but I’m not interested in having that as my mission at this time.

Anyway, around 3 Ellie needed to go down for her nap so I took that opportunity to head to midtown for my facial, a special treat for myself. I enjoyed it but I didn’t appreciate the woman telling me my face looked like I never exfoliated it when I use that damned exfoliating mask at least twice a week, and then telling me I had oily skin when just a few a weeks ago my forehead was flaking off. I’m surprised she couldn’t tell that some parts are oily and some very dry. It’s hard to trust any of these people. The best facial I had was at Oasis Spa. I may have to go back next time.

If you’re ever in New York around the holidays, definitely STAY AWAY FROM 5TH AVENUE. Good God! There were an unbelievable number of people. The corners are especially bad, where folks just mill about like cattle.

The police have already started blockading the sidewalks in preparation for New Year’s Eve. A couple of us slipped through and took to walking in the middle of the street to avoid the crowd. A female police officer told one man rather calmly that he couldn’t. Then she saw me and barked, “Get in there!” indicating the barricade. Just what I need. To get into an argument with a cop. Things were calmer the moment I got away from 5th Avenue.

Tomorrow I planned on taking the bus from Port Authority up to Woodbury Commons to do some shopping, but now I’m thinking coming back to the Times Square area in the late afternoon/early evening on New Year’s Eve is probably not such a good idea. Instead I think I’ll stay in my area and hit a bunch of museums.

Another problem with being up late: I’m hungry all over again.

friends / holidays / new york / running / weekends / work — Comments Off
24
Dec 06

Off for the holidays

I realized I won’t be able to post again till I return from my parents’, who still have dial-up which is about as slow as watching plants grow, so I thought I’d do a quick entry before taking off.

Friday was YP’s last day. It felt weird to me though I think he was distracted by having to get all his stuff packed up and by being sick. Although the office was empty well before noon, I stuck around with him. I wanted to see him off and as well staying gave me the chance to do some grunt work that I’d otherwise would have put off for another year. We left around 2:30.

I keep thinking this is goodbye forever and I have to remind myself that it’s not like he’s moving to Zimbabwe.

Yesterday I finally got up early and saw all the store windows like I’ve been meaning to. Since I’m sort of rushing, I won’t post any pictures just yet. Is it just me or does Blogger get all screwy when you post pictures? Like a million spaces will be inserted after I do. Anyway.

So yesterday I got up at 6:30, left the house by about 7:30, and finished seeing all the windows by 11. Along the way I stopped for a breakfast sandwich and some lovely coffee, which was weirdly the best part of the morning. Then I went down to Jacques Torres, got the last part of my mom’s gift, and was back home by before 12.

Spent the rest of the day lazing around. Played with my pictures, read, packed. I hurt my toe somehow. Just the skin but in the wrong shoes it KILLS. I don’t know what happened. I ran more than usual last week – 4 miles on Monday, 1 on Tuesday, 5 on Wednesday, 4 on Thursday, and 5 on Friday – but I don’t know if that’s it. I won’t run again till tomorrow.

In the evening I watched part of the Sound of Music, still one of my favorite movies.

I gotta get outta here soon. I really want to avoid the crowds and I can’t believe how much stuff I have. Gifts mostly.

Happy holidays, everybody! (Happy holidays, Dr. Nick!)

body — 5 Comments
16
Nov 06

Cosmetics are my crack

A few weeks ago, I received some free samples of Cellcosmet cosmetics from Saks Fifth Avenue. Now I’m addicted.

What I got were the Anti-Stress Mask, the Concentrated Night cream, and the Preventive Day cream, and I loved them all. Cellcosmet is an anti-aging line from Switzerland, and indeed after using the products, my face seemed smoother and less wrinkly.

I wrote earlier that I went to Sak’s to check out the products – and prices – in person. Everything was very expensive. $115 for the mask, $255 for the night cream, and $195 for the day, and yet I was still considering buying, if not all, then at least one of the items.

“It’s like drugs,” I told the salespeople. “You get some free samples, and then you’re addicted.”

They weren’t amused. “It’s your skin,” one said. “It’s important.”

Oh, lighten up.

Although I didn’t buy anything, I walked away with more free samples, including the Activator Gel, which does something or another to your face so that your other products work better. And you know what? I think it works.

It certainly feels damned good, all cool and tingly, and I noticed after the couple of times I used it that my skin looked smoother, tighter, and more even.

It seems more economical to me to pay $95 for something that will make my other, cheaper products work better than to plop down up to $300 for one alternative product.

Angela Tung Oversharing on the internet since 2005.