weekends

A too much drinking kind of weekend

At least for someone who normally doesn’t drink a lot.

One Fish, Two Fish – Maybe No Fish
Friday I had a lovely day off. There’s something about not being at work while the rest of the world is. I kept my Blackberry on but that wasn’t too bad, just half a dozen emails or so. Lots more writing and drinking of caffeinated beverages, this time at a Starbuck’s near me – hate the coffee, love the breakfast sandwiches – and then downtown at a boba tea place, mine without boba.

I also stopped in the Strand, like I’ve been meaning to for ages. Got The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle by Haruki Murakami, and Everything Is Illuminated by Jonathan Safran Foer.

Hung out with SB and Ellie. Ellie had on yet another hilarious outfit: a kitty cat shirt, no pants (diaper only), and a bright orange swimming cap halfway off her head. She kept trying to get me to read to her. I lasted one book, One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish, before getting bored. “Once upon a time,” I kept saying. “The end!” which she thought was hilarious.

Next we walked down to the Japanese grocery store. Apparently I’m now allergic to seafood. Tuesday night I broke out in hives. I didn’t know what it was from. Peanuts? The chocolate and pecan candy I had? Well, I broke out again on Friday shortly after ingesting a salmon and roe rice cake. I didn’t know how bad it was going to be, so just in case I popped a Benadryl.

Bad idea. My brother and his girlfriend, in from L.A., came into the city around 5. I was a space cadet for a good part of the night, though I had a nice time with them. First we went downtown to see an art show that my brother’s friend’s gallery was having. Then we all went out to dinner at this Meditarranean place, and afterwards went, of all things, bar hopping.

Despite the Benadryl, I did have some drinks. A few sips of champagne at the art show, a tiny bit of wine at dinner, and then two vodka tonics. By the time I hit the vodka tonics, the Benadryl was was wearing off, or else I’d have been on the floor.

“I shouldn’t have had the Seven and Seven.”
The next morning my brother was very hungover. His girlfriend, E., and I were feeling it a little, but not like D. , who had us beat with drink quantities (9 to our far-less-than-9). He puked, then slept it off while E. and I got some breakfast across the street.

We did eventually make it out of the house. What was up with the weather this weekend? The whole time we were fuh-REE-zing, when earlier in the week it was like summer.

We took the bus to the Central Park Conservatory Garden, which I didn’t even know existed. It was absolutely lovely.

E. graduated from the same college I did, so she wanted to check it out, having not seen it for some time. We walked across the Park, and first hit the Hungarian Pastry Shop, which I haven’t been to in years.

It seemed newer and nicer than when I used to hang out there. I distinctly remember the tables being marked up, and even being encouraged to write on them. But maybe I’m thinking of someplace else.

Then we stopped in St. John’s the Divine. Beautiful and peaceful. At one point I was alone, no footsteps or voices in earshot, and it was so utterly still. Is that God? The energy of the universe encapsulated? That inexplicable, intangible Something?

Anyway. After that we walked around both campuses. They had just had commencement so the tents were still set up. It brought back a flood of memories for E. I’ve been back to campus reguarly since 2004 so it wasn’t that big of a deal for me, though three years ago, I was like, “Oh my God! I used to have lunch there! That’s where my Chinese class was! I can’t believe they have an Asian market now!”

We stopped in the campus store, where I got two books for super cheap, hardcovers of The Lovely Bones for $6, and A Room of One’s Own, which I somehow have never read, for $7.

“Dad, are we there yet? Dad, are we there yet? Dad, are we there yet?”
We were pretty tired as we headed back. On the bus there were two annoying kids with their parents. I think you can definitely tell when parents haven’t spent a lot of time with their children. They’re overly indulgent and impractical, like dads who work all the time, or favorite aunts and uncles.

The little girl was so incredibly whiny – “Mom, can we move over there? Mom, can we move over there? Mom, can we move over there?” – and at one point was crouching down in front of her seat. She asked her mother if she could sit like that the rest of the ride and the mother said sure.

Yes, that’s safe for when the bus comes to sudden stops or lurches around traffic. When they finally got off the bus, they just let the kids run off ahead of them out of a different exit, right out into the street. The whole time they were on, E. and I were silent, but the moment they got off, we were like, “Oh my God! Can you believe they, etc., etc.”

Is that a rabbit in your pocket, or are just happy to see me?
We sat around my apartment watching more of The Heroes marathon on the SciFi channel before heading out to Brooklyn to meet a couple of E.’s friends from college. On the subway ride down, there was a little boy who was crying sort of weakly. Maybe because he was tired or sick. The mom was calm and practical, getting them settled while also comforting him.

The woman next to me, who had dyed purple hair, had an open bag. The guy next to her kept looking down in it, which made me think she had a dog or cat in there, but then – voila! – it was a bunny.

A big brown rabbit. The little boy saw at the same time, and the random guy beckoned at him and helped him across the train so that he could pet it a little. He did, very seriously, and then went back to his mom.

When those kinds of things happen, it makes me never want to leave this city.

It was cool to see a different part of New York, though I doubt if I’d ever move out to Brooklyn. It seems so far away. We had dinner at this great Italian place and then went to this bar. E.’s friends were very nice. The husband of one was hilarious. Still, I started to poop out around 11:30. I had had a glass of wine at dinner, and part of a gin and tonic, which I spilled.

Spilling drinks was the theme this weekend, first E. knocked over a bottle of water at my apartment, which was almost impossible NOT to do, since my place is so tiny, then D.’s Diet Coke at lunch, and then I knocked over my gin and tonic. Oh yeah! And Thursday morning I spilled coffee all over my living room rug. Maybe it’s something in the stars.

I was sad to sa
y goodbye to D. and E., but then remembered we’ll all see each other again next month when I’m in L.A. and we drive out to Vegas for the weekend. (Vegas, baby!)

Today I was a complete bum. I wrote a smidgen this morning, then indulged myself with the Sunday Times and a couple of episodes of the Gilmore Girls on DVD. Because I was in touch with work via email on Friday, I don’t feel too much dread about tomorrow. Plus my annoying new boss will be out on Monday and Tuesday, woohoo!

Now the pretentious writerly part
I’ve decided to go to the BookExpo. I’m so psyched! I think I’ve let go of the idea that I don’t like networking and am bad at it. What I like is listening to people’s ideas and hearing what they’ve done with their work and careers, and chatting with people who have similar interests.

I guess that’s a kind of like networking without being overly aggressive or salesy. It’s just something I enjoy and am getting more comfortable with the more of these kind of events I go to.

This morning it occurred to me that writing is like my child. I have to nurture it, educate it, give it attention. I also have to make sacrifices for its good, like having a job I don’t love but that pays the bills.

Of course I’m looking for something better, but I don’t think I could take a pay cut, not if I want to keep living where I’m living, going to writing conferences and events and taking classes. Not to mention traveling and gaining experiences that way. Having some money definitely makes things easier. And it’s not like I work more than 5 days a week, only occasionally past 5 or 6. It’s more the personalities in play that I don’t enjoy.

As Virginia Woolf says, “A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction.”

Having a day job isn’t just feeding the writing habit but helping it grow. It nurtures something that while at times makes me frustrated, also brings me a lot of joy and satisfaction. I’m not in it for the big bucks, that’s for sure.

weekends / work — 3 Comments
15
May 07

Blah about dating

So I’ve been in correspondence with this one guy. He seems decent though so far there’s no wow factor. I know it’s hard to tell from a profile and a few emails, but I’m already bored.

Either a) he’s just not doing it for me, or b) I’m not as ready as I thought. Either way probably means a no go with this guy.

Work has been a challenge lately. There was restructuring and so I have a new boss who has, let’s say, a very different style than my old boss, who I really liked. Let’s just say now there are no simple answers; everything requires further investigation and at least 2 meetings. Blech.

I’m looking for other positions in the company and so far none fitting me have come up. Guess I’ll have to stick it out for a while longer.

Surprisingly though I don’t feel depressed. Maybe a bit stressed about work but that comes and goes. And also keeps me too busy to feel lonely. Or maybe I’ve started to get over my loneliness over H.

I’m in dire need of a haircut but my hairdresser got a job working a movie and won’t be back till June 5. I made an appointment with someone else for today, but am thinking about canceling. I’m very particular about my hair.

rant and/or rave / weekends / writing — 4 Comments
14
May 07

A few weekend highlights

Getting Out
Saturday morning, instead of staying in and writing, I camped out with coffee and a bagel at an outdoor table at a deli nearby. Later while I ran errands, I took my notebook with me, stopping and writing whenever I took a break or grabbed another coffee.

Also hit Central Park where I wrote near the Alice in Wonderland sculpture, and the Frick museum, writing in the beautiful covered garden. A nice change from being cooped up all day.

Happy Mother’s Day – Not!
Okay, so it was Mother’s Day weekend. But Mother’s Day is not like the New Year; it’s not applicable to everyone and so you shouldn’t go around saying, “Have a happy Mother’s Day!” to every female of child-bearing age. You don’t know anything about that person.

Maybe she 1) doesn’t have kids by choice; 2) wants to have kids and has been trying for years and just can’t; 3) is barren; 4) had a miscarriage; or 5) like yours truly, is so far from possible motherhood that she might as well be a 12-year old boy. Think, people, think!

An Especially Weird Fetishy Encounter
So I was standing on the subway platform Sunday morning, minding my own business. Suddenly this white guy, maybe in his 50s or 60s, tiny with crazy gray hair and chewing on a toothpick, came up out nowhere.

“June-ko?” he said to me, making me jump 10 feet.

Assuming he was talking in some made-up Asian language, I ignored him.

“June-ko?” he said again, coming closer. “June-ko? June-ko? June-ko?”

What the fuck, motherfucker? I moved away.

“Oh, sorry,” he said. “You’re not June-ko.”

Gee, ya think? After saying it five times and my not responding? And I’m sorry but “June-ko” doesn’t sound like a real Asian name to me.

The Weather
It’s been gorgeous out! I prefer it on the cool side. Now if only it’d stay this way for the whole summer.

weekends / writing — 3 Comments
29
Apr 07

An artsy kind of weekend

It started Friday night when I went with YP to his friend’s open house at Pratt, which is a pretty cool campus with modern sculptures everywhere. His friend wasn’t there so we waited for a little while – we were both STARVING – then left a note.

YP was nice enough to take me out for a belated birthday dinner at Red Bamboo. I had the sizzling tofu, which was literally sizzling when the waiter brought it out, like a fajita.

The artsy weekend continued with a couple of literary events that were part of the PEN World Voices New York literary festival, which was all this week.

Last night was the Believer Nighttime Event, which was hosted by Eric Bogosian and totally free, which rocks in a kind of unbelievable way. And Eric Bogosian is rather sexy, in an Anthony Bourdain kind of way.

The first part was a mock auction – a mock-tion, if you will – using donated objects from the audience: a half-used roll of Ricolas, a copy of an August Wilson play, an expired AARP card (donated by 50+ year old who looked about 35). It was amusing at times but went on too long.

Next Bogosian read from his new novel. Angry and funny. Hot.

There was supposed to be short film but they couldn’t show it due to “technical difficulties,” which was okay by me because the next bit was the main reason I, and I think a lot of other people, were there.

John Hodgman is perhaps best known as the PC in those Apple commercials, but before that he was already an established writer and humorist, making appearances on The Daily Show. He’s also quite funny.

By chance I recently listened to an old This American Life, Nice Work If You Can Get It, on which he talked about how his life has changed so much and so weirdly since becoming famous from the Apple commercials. If I hadn’t listened to that This American Life, I wouldn’t have recognized his name in the program I got in the mail.

Hodgman hosted a writers’ “speed dating” event, which was basically a timed exchange between pairs of writers. It was pretty fun. The writers, who didn’t know each other, either asked each other their own questions, or the ones that Hodgman had come up with, like, “What did you do this morning? Answer yes or no.”

Having a cast of international writers was pretty fucking cool. The Dutch woman was paired with an Italian man who needed an interpretor (it was also cool hearing the different languages, even if I didn’t udnerstand), while this very young Nigerian American man was paired with an older man from Algeria who spoke French.

The Nigerian American man is an already very accomplished novelist, and yet he’s still going to medical school because that’s what his parents want. Talk about filial piety.

The “prizes” were madeleines from Boule Bakery. How literary. Love it.

Today I went to What Makes a Home? I ended up arriving at the same time as one of the panelists, Alain de Botton, who looks way different from his photo in real life. He’s kinda sexy too, in a supersmart, British-y kind of way, for which I am now apparently a cheap whore.

Lee Stringer was also on the panel. I haven’t read his books yet, but this is the second time I’ve heard him speak and yet again I really liked him.

I have to admit during both panels I thought a lot about H. and that he’d have appreciated the talks and thought they were fun and interesting. I, for one, wish that I’d gone to more events. Next year.

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.

food / friends / rant and/or rave / weekends / work / writing — 2 Comments
08
Apr 07

Early weekend recap

This has nothing to do with the weekend, but things have been very strange at work. Our team – which at its peak had 30 people and is now down to less than half – is being restructured. Rumor has it that other teams will be combined with ours but we don’t know how it will look or who will be doing what.

Apparently the structure was approved last week but we still have yet to hear. We’ve a feeling that another department with whom we work closely – and who in a way we suppport – already knows. A co-worker and I had meetings with some of the senior management on something else, and they were all like, “The Big Boss praised both of you by name. Hang in there, it’ll be okay, just hang in there.”

Hunh? I for one am usually invisible to senior leadership. I’m a worker bee that has a lot of contact with middle management but my work is rarely recognized by those above. So it was very very weird.

Anyway, aside from that, had a nice active weekend. Friday was our first half-day Friday of the spring/summer. I worked till about 3 – so not really a half day but a short one at least – then hit the gym. Didn’t run that much this week. Nothing on Monday, elliptical on Tuesday, three miles on Wednesday, ellipitcal again on Thursday, and finally 4 miles on Friday.

I was meeting PL downtown at 7 so I didn’t have quite enough time to run errands AND go home. So I just went home and chilled for an hour before heading back out.

This time I actually made it in time for the literary reading. I’ve missed all but one, arriving just 10 or 15 minutes late. This was a good one. Sometimes the (annoying) personality of the writer overwhlems the reading, but not this time.

Afterwards as usual PL and I had dinner at Paladar, “pan-Latin.” This time I had chicken empanadas and sopes, “corn tarts with black beans, avocado salsa & cotija cheese.” Delish!

PL and I had a really good talk. I forget how nice it is just to jibber jabber about the details of my life, like I did in college. I’ve been so reticent for so long, thinking that was the way I had to be. It’s really helpful to get someone else’s point of view.

Saturday morning I wrote and then met SB for lunch and shopping. Got some “delicates” at the Gap as well as finally found some black khakis I like from the Loft. They were full price but I’ve been on a search for some time.

I thought I’d go straight downtown and finish running errands before meeting up with YP, but I was pooped! Went home and chilled for a couple of hours. Even did some housekeeping.

Met up with YP for a quick bite to eat before going to see the stupidest movie perhaps that ever was, Premonition. I had heard some negative reviews but went to see it thinking that maybe it’d be a little stupid but at least entertaining. No: just stupid. STUPID STUPID STUPID STUPID.

WARNING: Spoilers to follow if you are so stupidly inclined to see this movie.

I totally bought into it at first, expecting a weird time traveling-twisted reality thing, a la Memento or something like that. No. No explanation for why she experienced her days out of order. I mean, was she psychic? Was there a rift in the time-space continuum? Was she insane?

The first thing that set me off was the funeral. She doesn’t believe her husband’s body is in the casket and so wants to see it. Okay, I buy that. The guys struggle with casket as the funeral director is warning her that in the accident there was a “severe cut,” and then THE GUYS DROP THE CASKET! Oops! And guess what? Her husband’s head comes rolling out.

I couldn’t stop laughing after that.

And later when you finally see the accident, yes, it’s apparent he gets decapitated, but there’s also like the biggest explosion and fireball ever. How did he have any uncharred body parts left?

I could go on and on, but I won’t.

HEREBE END OF SPOILER WARNINGS

Yesterday I also picked up issues one and two of Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Season 8. I felt like such a nerd walking around with a Forbidden Planet bag, but I’m a total sucker for Buffy.

Today I need to write more, return a shirt to the Loft, buy some Brita filters, and go to the bookstore. Also need to clean the bathroom and kitchen. Maybe I’ll get a bulletin board from the Container Store. ES gave me an awesome Angry Little Girls calendar and I want to put it up by my desk.

food / friends / weekends / writing — Comments Off
03
Apr 07

Weekend update, a day late

So what happens the moment I do a “gorgeous” skin update? I get a pimple. That’s right: a big fat one above my lip. Sexy.

ES came in late Friday night and as usual we stayed up talking. The next day we had a hard time getting out of the house, not leaving till about 1 to meet AY downtown. We had a late lunch at Ruby Foo’s – pad thai, yum! – and then were hoping to get theatre tickets, but the line was ridiculously long. So instead we walked around.

At one point AY was dying for coffee. I tried taking us to Fauchon but forgot where it was and took us the wrong way. So we ended up at David Burke’s in Bloomingdale’s. I thought it’d be overpriced, but it was actually a good deal.

I was the only one starving so I got a bowl of chili for $14. Expensive but whatever. It was GINORMOUS. I asked for 2 small bowls and we each had a hefty serving. So three chilis for $5 a piece. Not bad. Oh, and we got free popovers as well. Everything tasted really good.

After that we headed back uptown and hung out with SB, her hubby, and little Ellie, who was ecstatic to have “Mommy’s friends” around.

The next day ES, SB, and I went to see the Orchid Show at the New York Botanical Garden.

The show of course was lovely and gave me the oppourtunity to pick up my recently little-used camera.

This might be my fave although there aren’t any flowers:

On our way back, we unfortunately just missed a train, and had to wait around for an hour for the next one. Luckily ES had some extra bagel and lobster salad from lunch. For dinner we hung out at SB’s place, ordering burgers and fries.

ES left Monday morning. Boohoo! But little does she know I’ll be visiting her later this month or next. :)

~ ~ ~

Writing class last week was good. I had my second piece – the second part of a longer work – workshopped. Again, everyone liked it and had constructive criticism.

Before class I went into a cafe to get something to eat and the teacher was there. He said, “It’s good,” and I was like, “Oh, the food’s good?” He meant my piece. Looking forward to class again this week. It’s nice to talk about literature and writing and art.

Next Friday, 4/13, I’m going to the Third Annual New York Round Table Writers’ Conference. Last year I only went on Saturday but, like last year, the better discussions are on Friday so I’m taking the day off.

I LOVE this event. I love getting a coffee early that morning and sitting there listening and getting jazzed from the caffeine and the inspiring things other writers have to say. Of course there are the idiots in the audience with their idiotic questions, but whaddya gonna do.

family / weekends — Comments Off
26
Mar 07

Sometimes weekends just don’t feel long enough

NJ was the usual. Had lunch at home, then went shopping in the afternoon. I actually felt in the mood and bought a few shirts (one of which I’ll probably return), a Coldplay CD for $8, and some camisoles.

I wanted to take my parents out to dinner, but I think they’re still feeling guilty from what they think are the big bucks I spent at Christmas and would only let me treat them to Wendy’s and Sabarro’s at the food court.

“You guys are cheap dates,” I told them.

That night they watched some bizarre Korean television. First off this variety show with a smorgasborg of entertainers, from an apparently half black-half Korean woman who belted a song an English, to a Korean woman who attempted to sing the same song in English but which didn’t really sound like English, just an approximation of sounds, to an opera singer, to an ‘N Sync like boy band, to a, I have to admit, kinda rockin’ guitar band.

I had a bunch of late nights last week so I went to bed ridiculously early on Saturday, and got a big honkin’ 12 hours of sleep. Sunday morning I worked on the piece I’m handing in to class, and which I’m still working on now. I didn’t expect to have so much trouble with the structure. The beginning especially is very clunky.

friends / relationships / weekends — Comments Off
19
Mar 07

Long weekend recap

Only the recap is long, not the weekend unfortunately.

With the ice storm on Friday, the office closed at 2:30. But since it’s not a big deal for me to get home, I stayed till 4, finishing up a few things I’ve been putting off.

Just as I walked in the door, my cell phone rang, a number I didn’t recognize. Turned out to be a childhood friend I’ve been out of touch with for some time. Our parents have known each other since Taiwan, and W. and I have known each other since we were 3 and 4. We grew up together basically, our folks getting together on the weekends to play mah-jongg.

We’re quite different, W. and I. She was always part of that more traditional crowd in which everyone is a young Chinese professional while the people I’ve hung out with has been more mixed.

The last time I saw W. was at her dad’s funeral in February 2005. Of course we couldn’t talk then. I’ve known her dad since I was little and so my parents and I were a MESS, just like everyone else, especially when W.’s brother, who is 7 years younger, got up there and talked about how he was sorry his dad couldn’t see him get married. Oh my God, I just want to cry right now.

Anyway, so I was glad that she called. Normally she lives in Europe with her European husband, but on Friday she was in the city not far from me for a wedding at which she didn’t really know anybody. The reception wasn’t till 7 so we thought that would be a good time to grab a cup of coffee.

Luckily she was in my area because it was really slippery out. We chatted and chatted at a Starbuck’s. I updated her on my whole story, and she was shocked. Her expressions were priceless. She was also very supportive and glad to see that I was okay now.

I held off for so long telling W. because we’ve been out of touch and also because my mother wasn’t ready for her friends to know. Before I went to meet W., I called my mother to warn her that I’d be telling W., but that I’d ask her not to say anything to her mother. But then later I found out my mother told W.’s mother anyway. Her mom is apparently a clam so no one else will know till my mom’s ready.

And what was one of the first things W.’s mom said? “Maybe W. knows someone we can set Anna May up with.”

Great.

Anyway, no catch-up would be complete without some gossip. It’s so funny: W., who went to school upstate, is now friends with a bunch of my former friends from my college. I was very good friends with one guy, who I had the biggest crush on for the longest time. We stopped being friends basically cuz he’s a dick, but by then W. was good friends with one of his friends and so she’s stayed in touch with them over the years.

The last time I saw this guy was at W.’s wedding, during which he said hello with an expression like, “How come you didn’t come up to say hi to me?” Um, because you totally dissed me after I was out of the country for six months. I was totally snotty to him the rest of the time.

Anyway, so W. told me that he’s really cocky now. I don’t remember him being that way before, but that could have been an act for my sake. He was basically a liar, so much so that he couldn’t even keep track of his own lies. I believe I wasn’t a true friend to him but someone he kept around to boost his ego.

W. is not judgemental like I am. She generally gives people the benefit of the doubt. But there she was saying that this dude is now such a big talker, constantly bragging about his job, and how annoying that was.

I found that SO satisfying.

Saw Zodiac, which was really good. It was quite long but I wanted it to go on and on. It was a scary movie, but there is one thing that makes me laugh. There was a very suspenseful scene involving squirrels, and one of the squirrels jumps suddenly onto a screen door. And this girl behind me was so startled, she made the most ridiculous noise: “Ohhh!”

It’s not coming across in text. If only I had recorded it. I couldn’t stop laughing after that, also because she herself and her friends were all laughing. It still cracks me up now.

Sunday I got home in the afternoon and was a bum. I did a little more writing, finished Angela’s Ashes, and watched some of season 4 of the Gilmore Girls.

This week at work should be quiet. Almost everyone is away at a sales conference.

boston / friends / weekends — 4 Comments
12
Mar 07

I so don’t have time for a post right now

But I don’t care!

Boston was fun. My train ride Friday morning was lovely. I enjoyed much coffee, read, wrote, and daydreamed with my iPod.

I got in around 12:30, and met ES for lunch. It was restaurant week so there were lots of specials. Unfortunately the place we ate at was disappointing. It wasn’t bad but not great. My sirloin cut was average.

Afterwards she had to go back to work so I went to the ICA, taking the Silver Line, which sounds fancier than it actually is. Dude, the ICA is in the mofo middle of nowhere. I got out and had to schlep past these empty lots and warehouses. Apparently though the whole waterfront area is being built up.

The museum was good. Thank goodness there was an audio tour because that helped me understood some of the crazier shit.

For dinner ES picked a great noodle shop near where the play was, Wok and Noodle, I think. I inhaled my entire bowl of peanut noodles with chicken. Yum! IS met us at the restaurant, and then we walked over to the theatre.

The play was so frigging boring. I’m not naming names but damn! Too many charcters, too much going on. We weren’t the only ones dropping off either. Seating was arranged on either side of the stage so that I could see people with their eyes closed and their chins on their chests.

Saw my old professor signing books but I was too chickenshit to say hello. I thought he probably wouldn’t remember me and I’m so bad at schmoozing.

The next morning was leisurely. I was up sort of early so I made myself some coffee (I’m definitely at home at ES’s) and a small breakfast, and read and wrote. Her roommate was awake too so we ended up chatting. Then ES and her other roommate came into the picture and we were all yakking it up.

ES and I spent the afternoon at the fashion exhibit at the MFA. Some of the clothes were stunning and some were just plain weird. Afterwards we took a tour of where I used to live, including the actual house. There used to be a great Turkish cafe near my old street, but we were disappointed to see that it was gone.

Instead we hit a cafe in Brookline, then Russian food. ES was not impressed with her borscht but I enjoyed my meaty-tomaty soup.

Originally we were supposed to go out dancing but I pooped out. IS still came by and we talked our heads off till 1 in the morning, 2 with daylight savings. Then the next morning we had to get up sort of early to meet some of ES’s other friends for dim sum, which was excellent, better than the dim sum ES, her mom, and I had in New York last year. Afterwards we just hung around Harvard Square till it was time for me to go.

The train ride back was shorter than the one coming up, but it felt longer. It was crowded and I was tired and antsy to get home.

Angela Tung Oversharing on the internet since 2005.