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
30
Dec 06
I hate my upstairs neighbor
27
Dec 06
My journals, my life
Christmas was quiet (read: boring) at my parents’. The downtime gave me the chance to look through my old stuff, yearbooks, photo albums, and most of all, journals.
Somehow my parents and I started talking about the schools that my brother and I got into. I, for the life of me, couldn’t remember beyond three. So I looked back in my journal and found the forgotten college that had accepted me.
In those entries I also found that I obssessed a lot about the homework I should have been doing (nothing’s changed) and that I didn’t do so well in calculus. I got a 4 on the AP exam so I always remember doing well, but while I think I ended the year with a B, I got a lot of Cs and a few Ds beforehand.
I constantly worried about studying for AP bio, which I only sometimes did, and about getting praise from my writing teacher. I had a wicked crush on a guy named Ben (my real-life friends will know who that is), which dissipated and turned into a crush on a guy named Steve.
I read about the time SG and I had dinner at the Scanticon Hotel in Princeton. Escargots and filet mignon – fancy! Coincidentally ES was there too with a couple of other friends, and they kept stopping by to chat. They ended up going to a comedy show and hanging out with some college guy in his hotel room. I wonder if she rememebers that.
I forgot how much I wanted to go to the college I ended up going to. I mean, I loved it, but I didn’t remember how passionate I was, how I equated getting in with dreams coming true. “Who knows,” I wrote. “At this rate maybe I’ll win the Pulitzer before I’m 30.” Sorry to burst your bubble, young Anna May.
On Christmas Day, I had lunch with another high school friend. AY, who lives near the where we all grew up, is better friends with ES and someone I usually only see when ES is around. But when we all saw each other this past Thanksgiving, AY was very enthusiastic about hanging out again the next time I was home.
She knew only that I was divorced, not why or how. So over buttermilk pancakes and bacon – well, I had buttermilk pancakes and bacon, she had soup and salad – I filled her in. She was very sweet and sympathetic. I think a couple of her friends have gone through tough divorces/break-ups.
The last time we saw each other, before this past Thanksgiving, was Thankgiving weekend 2004. I can remember the day clearly – the cafe where ES and I met her for lunch, hanging out at her condo afterwards, much of it in her bathroom for some reason – but till later wasn’t clear on the year.
AY said that day she could tell something was up with me. She said, “Don’t get upset but I thought, Anna May looks old. I thought you looked about 40.”
The first thing I thought was, God, I hope that was after the affair and not before! And the first thing I did when I came back to New York? Check my journal: whew. That weekend was indeed November 2004, which was several months after the affair. Plus I was probably exhausted from Thanksgiving itself.
I said, “I don’t look 40 now, do I?”
“No, no!” she said. “You look happy. You look like yourself again.”
Since she was so blunt about my looking bad, I can only assume she’s being honest about how I look now.
I didn’t realize how much the ordeal showed on my face. People at work suspected, and obviously friends who hadn’t seen me in some time could tell. I don’t remember looking at myself much during that time, not like now when I wake up every morning and scrutinize every wrinkle and dark spot. Maybe I had some trouble looking at myself back then.
Thank goodness for my journals. They’re there when memory fails me and to remind me how life comes in waves, good, bad, mediocre, horrible, wonderful, and that right now I’m in pretty good shape.
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!)
20
Dec 06
The end of an era
YP’s time here is winding down. Friday is his last day, and he’s been transitioning his work and projects to the other admin.
It’ll be really boring here without him. Who will I talk to a hundred times a day? Who will I make sarcastic jokes with? I thought he was here just three years, but he reminded yesterday that in January, it would have been four. Wow. Four years of seeing a good friend almost every day; starting next week, nothing. :( There’s always IM and of course we’ll stay in touch outside of work – which could potentially be more fun – but it’s not the same.
I tend to get very attached to people. Loyalty is a big thing for me. At one of my old jobs, we took the Myers-Briggs assessment, and one of my traits was that I’m so loyal that I’d go as far as change jobs to stick to the people I like. At the time I thought that was a bit crazy, but now it doesn’t seem far-fetched at all.
I was right that this week was fairly quiet. Yesterday I had a contentious meeting with a contentious individual, but it wasn’t just me that I had issues with this person. The meeting did nothing to rectify the situation, but it was a chance for this person to demonstrate – in front of our group leader – the qualities that several of us have been complaining about for some time, eg, inconsistent direction, bulldozing conversations, not listening. So although it was stressful to have it out with this person in front of a group, it was good for our group leader to see her in action.
Tonight we have a team holiday dinner and tomorrow we admins and former admins are taking YP out to lunch.
Most of my holiday stuff is done. I just need to get some Jacques Torres AM Quickie chocolate bars for the “Breakfast Gift Bag” I’m putting together for my mom. I’m also including the Godiva Holiday Coffee Collection and some coffee filters that go with the new coffeemaker I’ll be giving.
For my dad, in addition to a 3-month wine-of-the-month membership, I’m assembling an Antioxidant Gift Bag, since he is all about the antioxidants these days. In the bag will be a couple of tins of Republic of Tea The People’s Green Tea, a bag of almonds, and a couple of bars of organic dark chocolate.
And I still have this package I need to ship to my cousin and her new baby. I’m being so pokey about it. It’s my albatross right now.
16
Dec 06
Working nine to – enh, let’s leave early and go to Sephora
My good friend YP is leaving the company. YP is the aspiring stand-up comic who started as a temp back in 2003, became permanent about a year later, then became *my* assistant earlier this year.
He is my best friend at work. We’ve similar senses of humor and the same attitude about our jobs (work hard but who cares), and the same taste in men (well sometimes). He was one of the first people I told about my ex’s affair. We always support each other in our artistic endeavors. He’s the gay, Greek, vegetarian, comedian brother I never had.
While I feel sad and will miss him, I understand his need to switch jobs. His rent is going up in February, and his new position, in a field he used to be in, is at a manager level and so pays nearly double what he makes now.
Plus one of our coworkers is a big fucking cunt, hereafter known as BFC. She’s the worst kind too, gooey-ly overly friendly on the one hand but then doing things like taking her stress out on other people, playing the blame game, and doling out orders over email like she’s the fucking team leader when she’s not.
The only one worse was our old boss, who thought she was above everything and told lies about people behind their backs. But then she was booted. Haha! (Marvin sing song voice and pointing.)
YP said, “We should get you a job over at my new company.” That would rock. It doesn’t matter to me where and what I do to make a buck. What matters most is the people, and with YP leaving and being stuck with the BFC, the people don’t seem so appealing right now.
Of course I can look for a new job on my own, and I have been, off and on. I’ve sent my resume out half a dozen times, but I feel like they just disappear into cyberspace. No responses, not even rejections. Going through YP would give me an in.
The thing is I have almost no professional experience in what his company does. Some of their positions involve writing and marketing, which I can bring to the table, but not the rest. Then again I had no experience in my present field either.
Makes me think the whole career game is bullshit. People just fall into these jobs, learn what they need to learn, and then the rest is personality. I guess if you’re super ambitious, that’s another story, but if you’re like me and you don’t give a crap, then it’s just a big joke.
In what I do I don’t think it takes real talent. It’s getting the work done, sure – though some get away for a REALLY long time not even doing that – but it’s mostly perception. How you come off to other people. Do you seem ambitious? Do you seem to have drive? That’s what gets you moved up, not real talent.
And so I cling to art with bloody fingernails. Of course success in that isn’t all about talent either. Sometimes it’s popularity; sometimes it’s being very lucky. But sometimes it is indeed about having talent, a gift, something real to say, or better, something real to say in a new way.