writing

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.

rant and/or rave / writing — 5 Comments
23
Mar 07

Why do I hate thee? Let me count the ways

Had class last night and the woman I hate had her piece workshopped.

Why do I hate her? Let’s count the ways.

She constantly engages with the teacher as though the rest of us aren’t there. It’s like she has this one on one conversation with him that locks the rest of us out.

When someone asks the teacher something, she often jumps in first.

She says “graph” instead of paragraph.

She says again and again, “I need to write this, I have to write this.” Join the fucking club.

First class she wanted assurance that what she wrote about and said never went outside the classroom. “I’m writing about a very sensitive subject matter,” she said. Like the rest of us give that much of a fuck about your story.

And lemme tell ya, her story’s really not that tragic. Our class has got divorce, mental illness, racism, adultery, spousal abuse, child abuse, incest, potentially life threatening illnesses, alcoholism, drug use.

I’m not saying these things automatically equal a good story, but the way she went on the first day of class – “My entire life changed last year!” – made me think she had far more going on. Not.

First class she was hesitant about giving out her email because she was afraid it would get past the classroom. Like what the fuck are we gonna do with your email? You’re so frigging special that your email’s gonna get out to the spammers?

While her piece was being workshopped, she was defensive at every piece of feedback she got.

“Well, I know I have to fill in those parts. I just didn’t have time.”

“Oh, I can write very succintly. I write for magazines. This is just an experiment. This is very much for myself.”

“Oh, I know. I know. I know.”

Of our feedback, she said it was all stuff she already knew. Again, this was something she just had to write, that it was for herself, that it was an experiment. Then why waste our time and workshop it in class? When I read a piece for class, I assume it’s wanting to be a finished story, not a dumping ground of thoughts. Leave that for your journal.

Or your blog, for that matter.

The teacher asked if the feedback was helpful at all. She said, “Yeah. Kind of.”

She’s such a fucking know-it-all. The teacher recommended a few spiritual memoirs – she’s all into that yoga mumbo jumbo – and then someone else mentioned some others, and she said, “Oh, I read all those.”

Even if ya did, be gracious and SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT IT!

I could go on and on.

Occasionally though, I have to admit, she gives some good feedback on other people’s pieces. If only she’d shut the fuck up about herself.

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16
Mar 07

The unfocused post

Well now we’re back to winter, which is okay. We had such a short, mild season that some snowy weather seems right.

I didn’t have class this week as the teacher had some personal business to take care of. So we’ll have an extra class at the end. Three people were to email their pieces by yesterday. There was disagreement as to when: Wednesday, Thursday, etc. Two said Thursday, to give themselves more time. The third, who is so goddamned annoying, said, “Why not Wednesday? C’mon, Wednesday.”

Guess who still hasn’t emailed her piece?

Right now for class we’re reading Angela’s Ashes. Really really good. I thought it might be too pathetic and depressing, but it’s actually quite funny. And the depressing things are told in a very plain way so that they don’t come off as melodramatic. I’m interested now in seeing the movie.

The other book we read is the Liars’ Club. Again, fucking amazing. People seem to either hate it or love it. Next up is The Glass Castle.

friends / relationships / weekends / writing — 5 Comments
05
Mar 07

A when-it-rains-it-pours weekend

Feast or famine, or any other number of cliches.

Really it started Thursday night. I had class, then went over to H.’s, which is practically next door. He had invited me over for a “late supper” – he made a sort of paella with veggies and seafood. It was very good.

Friday night I went out with YP, his sister, and friend. We hit a gay bar in Chelsea, which was lots of fun. I had just two vodka tonics but was pretty much drunk and then hungover the next day.

H. had called twice Friday night but I didn’t get home till midnight so I called him the next morning. We both planned on writing all day so he suggested us writing together, such a cute idea, like college. I went to his place since he needed his books and all I needed was my laptop, notebook, and brain.

Without the distractions of my apartment – the TV, magazines, DVDs, CDs, etc. – I was able to get a lot of work done, like a ridiculous number of pages. Whether or not those are any good is another question.

The next morning I met up with YP again, for brunch. Afterwards we did a little shopping before he went off to the gym and I went home and had a little nap before heading out to my eyebrow waxing.

It’s not the first time I’ve had my brows waxed but it was no less painful, especially after the actually waxing when she’s plucking, plucking, plucking. Right now my face feels a little bald but I’ll get used to it.

Afterwards I walked around, getting a book I needed for class and picking up Korean for dinner. At home I had a guilt-free lazy evening since I had done so much writing the day before. I attempted the Sunday Times crossword puzzle (pathetic attempt) and watched some of Godfather I and II.

Went to bed ridiculously early, around 9:30. I woke up naturally at 5:30 and I should have gotten up to go to the gym but felt lazy. I’ve been really bad about working out lately. Hopefully I can hit it at lunchtime; if not, then after work.

food / writing — 7 Comments
21
Feb 07

Inspi(red) but distrac(ted)

I’ve been a little distracted lately and have been totally neglecting my little projects. For instance, running42K is right: I totally should have not only listed all the good food my mom made for the Lunar New Year, I should have taken some damned pictures. I’m kicking myself now that I didn’t.

So from memory, here was our Spring Festival dinner:

pan fried fish, a necessity for this holiday, since the Chinese word for “fish” is a homonym for “more than enough” or “extra,” ensuring extra luck and good fortune for the new year
stir-fried baby clams with snow peas
turnip soup
fried pork cutlets
steamed pork buns. Normally, you’re supposed to have dumplings, which are like little packages of good luck, but they’re also a lot of trouble to make. The buns were easier for my mom, and they are also like little packages.
jellyfish, shredded carrot, and radish salad in a vinegar sauce
bamboo shoot and carrot salad
short ribs

There may have been some chicken dish too but I can’t remember.

Something else I remembered that I need to do are my taxes. Egads. I still have some time though.

I’m excited about the work I’m doing for my memoir class. I like it when I know where I’m going with a piece, when it’s pretty much mapped out in my head so much so that I can really take my time putting it down on paper. When I don’t know where I’m going, I sometimes write more, just flailing about, trying to figure it out.

I’ve also been wasting time at work playing with my NaNo, which I’m having difficulty with for some reason. Like, why is it so hard to make a playlist? On my mini I could literally drag songs from my library to the iPod, but this doesn’t seem to work the same way. So I’m perusing the directions to figure it out. Maybe having a PC messes it up.

It was so nice to walk home and not have my music run out on me after 45 minutes. Now I just need to get all my songs uploaded. I had over 800 on my mini; unfortunately a lot of those are on a computer I don’t have anymore. But of course I still have the CDs. Here at work I have about 200, which is plenty for now.

relationships / writing — 4 Comments
16
Feb 07

I’m in an unbelievably good mood

1) It’s Friday and the start of a three-day weekend.

2) My writing class went very well last night. Everyone liked my piece, which is always encouraging, but what’s more useful is the constructive feedback, ie, what parts are confusing, what information is missing, what information I don’t need.

But, most importantly at least to me, the teacher, a real writer, liked my work a lot, telling me during the break even before we began workshopping, and then after class as we walked out. Extremely promising. I’m excited to get cracking at the next section.

3) I was talking to ES recently about what I want in a relationship. I told her how I made a list based on my past experiences of what I do and don’t want. For instance, I do want a lot of affection while I don’t want someone with a bad temper.

One sort of trivial thing I want is someone to go to museums with – not just that: someone who wants to go to museums with me. Neither C. nor DK ever did, and I’d mention it all the time: “We should go to the Met sometime,” or the Whitney or whatever. Once DK and I walked past the American Museum of Natural History, and he said, “I haven’t been there in years. I should check it out again,” but didn’t ask me to join him. Hello? I’m standing right here!

The other night H. mentioned a exhibit he wants to see at the MoMA, and then asked me if I wanted to go with him. Not in a casual way, like, “Since I’m going there anyway,” but as though he wanted to go with me. I’d just about died of happiness. It’s quite strange too since ES and I had just been talking about it, probably two days before.

Makes me wonder: have I been treated like dirt all this time?

He has beautiful manners. At coffee the other night, whenever I jumped up to get something – napkins or whatever – he’d stand. At first I had no idea what the heck he was doing. Later I needed something from the drugstore, and it was late and cold and snowy. I assumed we’d go together but he went out on his own and brought back what I needed.

We’re hanging out tonight as well.

relationships / writing — 6 Comments
09
Feb 07

Class and a date

This week I decided to take a memoir writing class, rather at the last minute. I got the email on Tuesday and the class started yesterday.

So far so good. It’s less intense than my summer class, which was all about publishing. This one is much more, let’s say, fluid. There are a couple of characters – I think I need one of those dog collars that shock to keep me from rolling my eyes whenever someone says something stupid – but everyone else seems nice and normal, including one woman from my summer class.

I like having a class Thursday night. I don’t mind that it goes late since the next day is Friday. The only thing is I’ll miss is The Office – dammit! I wish they’d rerun it online like they do Heroes.

I stupidly volunteered to have a piece workshopped next week, which means I need to email it to everyone by Sunday mid-day. Ack!

So I have a date this weekend. The anthropologist. I’m trying not to be excited but for some reason I am. I don’t know why. We haven’t even spoken. We exchanged several emails, and last night he called while I was in class. He’s from elsewhere and has a lovely accent. We’ll probably actually speak before the date itself.

He’s not supercute but I’ve done supercute and see how far that got me. He’s rather tall, 5’11”. We’ll see.

work / writing — 7 Comments
30
Jan 07

If money didn’t matter, what job or career would you go for?

I’m trying out the Imagination Prompt Generator that Hemlock and Zydecofish have been using.

My job and career have been on my mind a lot lately. For a long time, my field was pretty stable, but now things are uncertain. I don’t think I’m at risk for losing my job – I’m rather low on the totem pole – but to tell the truth, I wish I were.

The severance package is sweet. I’d be set for several months, during which I could do a number of things. Travel a bit, go to school, get a more interesting and probably lower paying job, basically try something new.

If money didn’t matter at all, I’d go to journalism school and get some non-paying internship at a newspaper or magazine, mainly for the chance to write and get clips. I’d still work on novels and short stories, but that couldn’t be the only thing. I’d need some outside stimulation as well.

If it turned out I didn’t like journalism, I’d try something else. Who knows what, but if money didn’t matter, who cares?

I’ve heard that one’s answer to the above question is what one really wants to do. Maybe I could still go to journalism school, even if I don’t get laid off. I could go part-time and hopefully get some sort of scholarship.

But is it worth it? Any j-school vets out there who can speak on that?

awareness / friends / holidays / photography / relationships / writing — 4 Comments
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.

Angela Tung Oversharing on the internet since 2005.