I posted this back in July, but I removed it to protect the not so innocent. It tells you how long things were like this. And while this is a classic story, as classic as buttercream icing, I will recount the gimmies and candles on the cake that made it super clear I made the right move getting out of the Pie when I did.
Thursday, July 27, 2006
"You Can Pay Her"
This is absolutely ridiculous.
Between some weddings and some other things going on lately, I've had to ask for some personal time. We're talking maybe a total of 8 hours/1 day. And I'm salaried, so technically, there really shouldn't be any questions about making up the time. During the fall and early winter I was putting in 45 hour weeks, working from home at night and on my days off...it's not like I didn't earn the time or won't put it in when it's necessary.
But instead, I hear a song and dance about taking any time off - coming in late or needing to leave early. I'm encouraged to take an entire random Tuesday off (instead of 2 hours), make that my weekly "off" day...What? So then I can have a random Tuesday and a Sunday off?! But she goes on...I am "supposed to be there anyway" and it doesn't make sense for her to bring in an hourly associate that will cost a couple extra bucks for 2-3 hours. You can't be serious? I'M SALARIED!? I have personal time?!
So that's just the few hours of personal time...it gets better. I need off next Saturday and being flexible, I offer to make this day up on Sunday or even Monday. Clearly this is too complex for her. She'd rather me squander a vacation day for a wedding then let me make up the day on a day that actually makes sense. Why, you ask? Because she has some unwaivering loyalty to the hourly peeps who only work on Sunday or Monday. I think my eyebrow rose at this point of the conversation.
Now, there's already some switching going on, to cover me being out next Saturday, and an hourly person will be there...racking up some payroll (the ones mentioned above that she would prefer not to bring in when I need 2 hours). Now wouldn't it make sense then to balance that with me working the next day? Instead of shelling out more hourly wages for a part timer? Complete contradictions.
She can't arrange this in her head so it makes sense financially and her priorities are skewed to say the least. But the final nail in the coffin of irritation and disbelief was her voicing that she doesn't want to be the one responsible for our scheduling requests going forward...that if I need an hour or two here or there, I should find the coverage. My concern. AND - get this - I should pay whomever covers me.
Yes. Because clearly no one understands what it means to be a salaried employee.
Note: December 29, 5 months later - I still don't think anyone at this place knows what salary means.
Saturday, December 30, 2006
Thursday, December 28, 2006
Interesting Horoscopes
These were from the last few weeks. Of course, I couldn't add them sooner due to the bathroom mess piling up in front of my PC! But I love the one from December 6...it seemed to KNOW what was on course. The first line is classic. I should have listened.
November 15, 2006
SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22–Dec. 21): A storm has been stirring up your inner world. Tune into it now. Feel its blustering squall. Bow down to its pummeling howl. Let your awe and amazement rise as you contemplate how much power it has had to disturb you. Feel gratitude for all the ways it has forced you to become tougher and cagier. Now imagine that the storm is beginning to dissipate. Sense it slowly but surely losing its force, spending its last fury. Soon it will have evolved into a misty drizzle. Tomorrow morning, I bet you will awaken filled with the relaxed clarity that comes after having great sex.
November 22, 2006
SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22–Dec. 21): "Whether we are on the threshold of a Golden Age or on the brink of a global cataclysm that will extinguish our civilization is not only unknowable, but undecided," said Edward Cornish, president of the World Future Society. I bet that in the past year you've had comparable fantasies about the fate of your own personal destiny, Sagittarius. At times, it must have seemed as if you were teetering on the brink of a sulfurous abyss that was within shouting distance of the yellow brick road to paradise. Talk about conflicting emotions! But now that crazy-making chapter of your life story is coming to an end. No more teetering for you. No more inhaling noxious fumes from the infernal regions. I believe you have already been offered or will soon be offered an escort to the beginning of the yellow brick road. Let's hope you're not so addicted to the fascinating glamour of your pain that you turn down the escort.
December 6, 2006
SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22–Dec. 21): Does anyone have to go to the bathroom, get a drink, or take some Advil? Are there any nagging little concerns that need attending to? I urge you to take care of these or any other matters of personal comfort before we plunge into this assembling-jigsaw-puzzles-while-riding-on-a-roller-coaster kind of week, this swimming-the-backstroke-through-the-churning-waters-of-the-tunnel-of-love-while-wearing-a- medieval-knight's-helmet-and-your-sexiest- underwear kind of week, this everyone-for-himself-but-we're-all-in-this-together kind of week.
December 13, 2006
SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22–Dec. 21): "The thing that makes you exceptional is inevitably that which must also make you lonely," said playwright Lorraine Hansberry. I agree. That's why my exuberant advice for you this week is also cautionary. According to my reading of the omens, in 2007 you will have unprecedented opportunities to cultivate and express the special talents that make you unique. To get to the root of them, though, you'll have to be willing to get less of the approval and appreciation you'd ideally like to have. You may not have to be relentlessly solitary, but you will have to be vigorously independent.
November 15, 2006
SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22–Dec. 21): A storm has been stirring up your inner world. Tune into it now. Feel its blustering squall. Bow down to its pummeling howl. Let your awe and amazement rise as you contemplate how much power it has had to disturb you. Feel gratitude for all the ways it has forced you to become tougher and cagier. Now imagine that the storm is beginning to dissipate. Sense it slowly but surely losing its force, spending its last fury. Soon it will have evolved into a misty drizzle. Tomorrow morning, I bet you will awaken filled with the relaxed clarity that comes after having great sex.
November 22, 2006
SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22–Dec. 21): "Whether we are on the threshold of a Golden Age or on the brink of a global cataclysm that will extinguish our civilization is not only unknowable, but undecided," said Edward Cornish, president of the World Future Society. I bet that in the past year you've had comparable fantasies about the fate of your own personal destiny, Sagittarius. At times, it must have seemed as if you were teetering on the brink of a sulfurous abyss that was within shouting distance of the yellow brick road to paradise. Talk about conflicting emotions! But now that crazy-making chapter of your life story is coming to an end. No more teetering for you. No more inhaling noxious fumes from the infernal regions. I believe you have already been offered or will soon be offered an escort to the beginning of the yellow brick road. Let's hope you're not so addicted to the fascinating glamour of your pain that you turn down the escort.
December 6, 2006
SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22–Dec. 21): Does anyone have to go to the bathroom, get a drink, or take some Advil? Are there any nagging little concerns that need attending to? I urge you to take care of these or any other matters of personal comfort before we plunge into this assembling-jigsaw-puzzles-while-riding-on-a-roller-coaster kind of week, this swimming-the-backstroke-through-the-churning-waters-of-the-tunnel-of-love-while-wearing-a- medieval-knight's-helmet-and-your-sexiest- underwear kind of week, this everyone-for-himself-but-we're-all-in-this-together kind of week.
December 13, 2006
SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22–Dec. 21): "The thing that makes you exceptional is inevitably that which must also make you lonely," said playwright Lorraine Hansberry. I agree. That's why my exuberant advice for you this week is also cautionary. According to my reading of the omens, in 2007 you will have unprecedented opportunities to cultivate and express the special talents that make you unique. To get to the root of them, though, you'll have to be willing to get less of the approval and appreciation you'd ideally like to have. You may not have to be relentlessly solitary, but you will have to be vigorously independent.
Monday, December 25, 2006
One Good Place
Family Drama That May Ensue
John used this line in a voice message to me a few weeks ago and I couldn't help but laugh. On the one hand I hadn't known that I spoke too soon about the 'rents being completely cool with his coming out (as cool as parents can be that is) but on the other hand, I've had a lot of faith in my family lately that maybe we've all become a tad wiser and calmer about things and "drama" is a thing of the past.
The so called drama involved John wanting to bring his new beau to Christmas and for various reasons, my parents were a little uncertain about it. They had valid points, John had valid points...anyway, there was a week's worth of phone calls, emails, and feeling torn before the 'rents were like - It's fine. And they meant it. It really wasn't worth getting worked up over.
I spent some time being counsel to Dad and my sister when they just needed to talk...and reminding everyone that all of us are going through some adjustments and since many conversations are filtered through John, we hear what he wants to communicate and what we want to hear...in our emotional sensitive states.
Of course, all this time I'm telling everyone that it's all going to be fine because in all honesty, I really believed it would be. And I was right. I immediately loved David and couldn't get over that he got us all gifts?! I mean, he was at our party and we all wanted to make sure he felt included and had gifts to open and felt part of the family, but none of us expected a thing! But the boy is adorable and so sweet and so stinkin creative. At one point I looked down and saw these amazingly wrapped gifts and so thought a swanky boutique had done them up only to find out that David did them all?! Normally I take the creative gift wrap award and I was SPANKED. I totally teased him.
But it was great. And getting to know him a bit...there was something so sweet about the whole holiday. Like this is how it's supposed to be. John was happy. David was happy. My parents were happy.
I wasn't in the "holiday spirit" at all this entire month. Normally I'm all over it with decorations and cards and whatever. But I don't know...I couldn't get into it at all. Maybe it was American Pie or the secular gift commercials and news bits or the slit your wrists Christmas tunes overplayed on our radio stations. Or our bathroom issues. Or all of the above. I had fun with the gift giving, but overall, I was like whatever. But between winning the pot at Vince's grandmom's house and getting the pot gift (this crazy life size snow globe that lights up and sings) and feeling like his mom was with us in that moment...to hearing about 3 year old Sheamus opening everyone's gifts and knowing my Pop Pop would have laughed so hard watching the entire thing play out...to embracing David as part of our family...
Maybe it took the whole month, chocked full of crap and unimportant stuff, to get me to this one good place.
John used this line in a voice message to me a few weeks ago and I couldn't help but laugh. On the one hand I hadn't known that I spoke too soon about the 'rents being completely cool with his coming out (as cool as parents can be that is) but on the other hand, I've had a lot of faith in my family lately that maybe we've all become a tad wiser and calmer about things and "drama" is a thing of the past.
The so called drama involved John wanting to bring his new beau to Christmas and for various reasons, my parents were a little uncertain about it. They had valid points, John had valid points...anyway, there was a week's worth of phone calls, emails, and feeling torn before the 'rents were like - It's fine. And they meant it. It really wasn't worth getting worked up over.
I spent some time being counsel to Dad and my sister when they just needed to talk...and reminding everyone that all of us are going through some adjustments and since many conversations are filtered through John, we hear what he wants to communicate and what we want to hear...in our emotional sensitive states.
Of course, all this time I'm telling everyone that it's all going to be fine because in all honesty, I really believed it would be. And I was right. I immediately loved David and couldn't get over that he got us all gifts?! I mean, he was at our party and we all wanted to make sure he felt included and had gifts to open and felt part of the family, but none of us expected a thing! But the boy is adorable and so sweet and so stinkin creative. At one point I looked down and saw these amazingly wrapped gifts and so thought a swanky boutique had done them up only to find out that David did them all?! Normally I take the creative gift wrap award and I was SPANKED. I totally teased him.
But it was great. And getting to know him a bit...there was something so sweet about the whole holiday. Like this is how it's supposed to be. John was happy. David was happy. My parents were happy.
I wasn't in the "holiday spirit" at all this entire month. Normally I'm all over it with decorations and cards and whatever. But I don't know...I couldn't get into it at all. Maybe it was American Pie or the secular gift commercials and news bits or the slit your wrists Christmas tunes overplayed on our radio stations. Or our bathroom issues. Or all of the above. I had fun with the gift giving, but overall, I was like whatever. But between winning the pot at Vince's grandmom's house and getting the pot gift (this crazy life size snow globe that lights up and sings) and feeling like his mom was with us in that moment...to hearing about 3 year old Sheamus opening everyone's gifts and knowing my Pop Pop would have laughed so hard watching the entire thing play out...to embracing David as part of our family...
Maybe it took the whole month, chocked full of crap and unimportant stuff, to get me to this one good place.
Friday, December 22, 2006
The Bathroom
It's been some time since I posted anything, due in part to my bathroom being gutted and everything being displaced since the second week of December. Vince thought it was a marvelous idea to barter his license restoration services for some contracting work. A good idea in theory. A good idea say...in January. Actually, make that February or March AFTER holiday bills are paid off or paid down.
NOT December. Not the day before a party and a week before my birthday and two weeks before the holiday. It's December 22 and finally our house is regaining some order.
But not before the entire project backfired and I didn't have a toilet or shower for 2 days. We have an old house. Wish means old problems. Like people covering old tile with new tile, cementing in tile, cementing in fixtures. What started out as a tub needing to be replaced turned into a new tub that didn't fit, tiles being torn down to fit the tub only to discover it still wouldn't fit and concrete had to be chiseled away and a fiber glass backing not only had to be added to the bill but in our narrow spaces, demanded a wall be knocked out in the second bedroom so it could squeeze its way into place above the tub.
2 weeks and $1200 later, we spent about the equivalent of what we figured we'd spend on a bathroom remodeling sans any barter and dust is my new enemy.
However, we do have a lovely new pee room.
NOT December. Not the day before a party and a week before my birthday and two weeks before the holiday. It's December 22 and finally our house is regaining some order.
But not before the entire project backfired and I didn't have a toilet or shower for 2 days. We have an old house. Wish means old problems. Like people covering old tile with new tile, cementing in tile, cementing in fixtures. What started out as a tub needing to be replaced turned into a new tub that didn't fit, tiles being torn down to fit the tub only to discover it still wouldn't fit and concrete had to be chiseled away and a fiber glass backing not only had to be added to the bill but in our narrow spaces, demanded a wall be knocked out in the second bedroom so it could squeeze its way into place above the tub.
2 weeks and $1200 later, we spent about the equivalent of what we figured we'd spend on a bathroom remodeling sans any barter and dust is my new enemy.
However, we do have a lovely new pee room.
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Spark
I think I am slowly coming out of the deep dark hole that's consumed me for about 6 weeks. A much needed weekend away forced me out of my rut and to plant a solid foot on the rung of a ladder. Several of us SJU gals and our spouses visited our friend Devon in north Jersey for an evening of tasty treats, drinks and catching up. I hung around through the weekend, toured Hoboken and then trained it into New York to visit Beth, get cracking on wedding photography, and attend a graduate info session at NYU.
I packed a lot into this one day - old school Chrissie style. But it was great. I took the subway all by myself! Usually people tell me which lines to take, but I sucked it up and read the map and boarded one, figuring I'd never learn unless I just did it.
We have the Final 56 - 56 wedding photographs to be featured in the album. Next up is deciding which to blow up and how to lay them out, but at least we have 56 photos narrowed from 700+. Accomplishment.
The NYU thing...this sounds great...like the Masters program I've dreamed of. It's through their Gallatin School of Individualized Study and is just that - individualized and interdisciplinary. Finally after attending info session after info session on a range of concentrations, I can and will coherently describe how I will mesh MBA classes with performance studies with production. I am convinced there is a comprehensiveness to all my desires and should a masters program make sense (and be financially doable), then this is THE school for me.
Last night as I stared bleakly at the TV, anticipating more rain and more unseasonably warm weather and going to icky work the next day, I remembered the day before and thought - why have it end in Village? I took a step in the right direction and through myself into something even in a dark hour. So I created 2 more pages for my scrapbook and managed to whip together some Betty Crocker sugar cookies. Even in my PMSed state right now, I'm getting crap done. I'm applying to a position at Orchestra 2001.
I needed a spark...something to light a fire again and at least move me to work actively, agressively toward something positive.
I packed a lot into this one day - old school Chrissie style. But it was great. I took the subway all by myself! Usually people tell me which lines to take, but I sucked it up and read the map and boarded one, figuring I'd never learn unless I just did it.
We have the Final 56 - 56 wedding photographs to be featured in the album. Next up is deciding which to blow up and how to lay them out, but at least we have 56 photos narrowed from 700+. Accomplishment.
The NYU thing...this sounds great...like the Masters program I've dreamed of. It's through their Gallatin School of Individualized Study and is just that - individualized and interdisciplinary. Finally after attending info session after info session on a range of concentrations, I can and will coherently describe how I will mesh MBA classes with performance studies with production. I am convinced there is a comprehensiveness to all my desires and should a masters program make sense (and be financially doable), then this is THE school for me.
Last night as I stared bleakly at the TV, anticipating more rain and more unseasonably warm weather and going to icky work the next day, I remembered the day before and thought - why have it end in Village? I took a step in the right direction and through myself into something even in a dark hour. So I created 2 more pages for my scrapbook and managed to whip together some Betty Crocker sugar cookies. Even in my PMSed state right now, I'm getting crap done. I'm applying to a position at Orchestra 2001.
I needed a spark...something to light a fire again and at least move me to work actively, agressively toward something positive.
Friday, November 10, 2006
Blurbs
Existing in the midst of "me, me, me...mine, mine mine" (my co-worker touting the recent artist show's orders, sales, and the shop's mere building and site as his very own), I remove myself physically and mentally to share with you some recent reflections on the 90210 On DVD conversation:
From my brother John:
Season 1, Episode 13
"The Walshes allow a young Latino girl named Karla Montez, (their maid Anna's niece) to use their address so she can attend West Beverly High School. Brandon becomes intrigued with Karla, but he suspects that she's hiding something due to her wariness and a strange man following her around. Later, when Jim arranges a party for one of his clients, Brandon causes a scene when he finds Karla at the party serving drinks and thinks she's being used as cheap labor."
(disclaimer: girls are latino and not latina according to the international movie database, not me) Though personally I'm more of a fan of the saga of Kelly's coke addiction and recovery with psycho girl Tara, I sure can't wait to see this one again!
From Liz:
I'm so glad that I am not the only one addicted to this "Mindless Drivel" as my husband calls it! Now I can torture him with hours and hours of 90210on DVD!! He gets football Sunday, so I get this! My favorite season, by far, is their senior year in high school when Brenda finds out that Kelly and Dylan are hooking up!!
From Beth:
Chris, I'm so happy for you! I'm also laughing really hard right now.
My favorite episode: David's friend accidentally kills himself while showing David his dad's gun. When the friend's mom tries to make David feel guilty? I love it.
Have fun with the gang!
From Kara:
I am glad to know I am in good company with other 90210 fans. Forget the election, I will be in line waiting for my copy of the first season!
From Christy:
If Donna Martin can graduate, anything is possible! Hooray for the zip code with a voice. Welcome back, gang.
On a sicker note, I enjoyed the season where Kelly was a cokehead. I just felt the show needed a darker edge and, go figure, they went total cheese with it.
From Cindy:
As much as I love the gang from BH, I wanna wait until the season comes out where David Silver is a hottie DJ and Donna catches him in the limo with his music producer. That season was absolute GOLD. I can skip the 1st season where David's friend accidentally shoots himself at his lame-ass birthday party.
From Tracey:
You crack me up!!!!!!! I loved when Dylan and Brenda got together, damn that Kelly!
From my sister Bethann:
Today I heard Shophie B. Hawkins, "Damn I wish I were Your Lover" The memories of Dylan and Kelly sneaking behind Brenda's back, surfing, having "good times" in the cabana at the BH Beach Club. And Brenda and Donna in Frace, where Brenda pretends she is French and lies to Dean Cain. Stupid Donna wearing a ugly yellow dress and thinking she could be a model. David falling for that stupid girl Nicki behind
Donna's back...WOW! I miss the drama. Even Grey's Anatomy isn't that drama filled. Remember when Brenda found out and she played "Losing My Religion" over and over again?
From my brother John:
Season 1, Episode 13
"The Walshes allow a young Latino girl named Karla Montez, (their maid Anna's niece) to use their address so she can attend West Beverly High School. Brandon becomes intrigued with Karla, but he suspects that she's hiding something due to her wariness and a strange man following her around. Later, when Jim arranges a party for one of his clients, Brandon causes a scene when he finds Karla at the party serving drinks and thinks she's being used as cheap labor."
(disclaimer: girls are latino and not latina according to the international movie database, not me) Though personally I'm more of a fan of the saga of Kelly's coke addiction and recovery with psycho girl Tara, I sure can't wait to see this one again!
From Liz:
I'm so glad that I am not the only one addicted to this "Mindless Drivel" as my husband calls it! Now I can torture him with hours and hours of 90210on DVD!! He gets football Sunday, so I get this! My favorite season, by far, is their senior year in high school when Brenda finds out that Kelly and Dylan are hooking up!!
From Beth:
Chris, I'm so happy for you! I'm also laughing really hard right now.
My favorite episode: David's friend accidentally kills himself while showing David his dad's gun. When the friend's mom tries to make David feel guilty? I love it.
Have fun with the gang!
From Kara:
I am glad to know I am in good company with other 90210 fans. Forget the election, I will be in line waiting for my copy of the first season!
From Christy:
If Donna Martin can graduate, anything is possible! Hooray for the zip code with a voice. Welcome back, gang.
On a sicker note, I enjoyed the season where Kelly was a cokehead. I just felt the show needed a darker edge and, go figure, they went total cheese with it.
From Cindy:
As much as I love the gang from BH, I wanna wait until the season comes out where David Silver is a hottie DJ and Donna catches him in the limo with his music producer. That season was absolute GOLD. I can skip the 1st season where David's friend accidentally shoots himself at his lame-ass birthday party.
From Tracey:
You crack me up!!!!!!! I loved when Dylan and Brenda got together, damn that Kelly!
From my sister Bethann:
Today I heard Shophie B. Hawkins, "Damn I wish I were Your Lover" The memories of Dylan and Kelly sneaking behind Brenda's back, surfing, having "good times" in the cabana at the BH Beach Club. And Brenda and Donna in Frace, where Brenda pretends she is French and lies to Dean Cain. Stupid Donna wearing a ugly yellow dress and thinking she could be a model. David falling for that stupid girl Nicki behind
Donna's back...WOW! I miss the drama. Even Grey's Anatomy isn't that drama filled. Remember when Brenda found out and she played "Losing My Religion" over and over again?
Monday, November 06, 2006
90210
It's what I've been waiting YEARS for...The legit 90210 first season to be released on DVD. The world has not only righted itself, but has gotten a bit better with this fantastic news. Since FX rearranged their line up years ago (and I had to work?!) I haven't been able to get my dose of the gang in EONS. I am especially giddy when I have a day off around the holidays and I happen to tool around and either FX or the Soap network are syndicating all the Thanksgiving or Christmas episodes. ALL DAY LONG. The marathons can now exist in my own home.
What else can I say?
What else can I say?
Sunday, November 05, 2006
I think I should be a nanny
SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22–Dec. 21): In the 18th century, the Bastille was a notorious French prison. Its squalor was perhaps less oppressive than other jails', however, because every inmate was supplied with three bottles of wine per day. Being so continuously intoxicated, few were inclined to attempt escape. I bring this to your attention, Sagittarius, in the hope that it will serve as a warning. You are, in my opinion, overdue to flee from your own personal version of imprisonment. But you'll be unlikely to do that if you're drunk or stoned or otherwise in the throes of an influence that keeps you foggy, distracted, or artificially satisfied. In the interests of liberation, please keep your senses honed and your awareness focused.
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Guys & Dolls
So last night, I almost put a bullet through my head to end the misery I experienced watching only part of RENT, the musical. Some of this was my own doing...I haven't enjoyed musicals in about 10-12 years. Once upon a time, like when I was 14 and 15, I did. I took in Jesus Christ Superstar, Joseph & The Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, Godspell, Fiddler on the Roof and a host of others. I remember liking them. But somewhere along the line, something happened...Was it in high school when I realized I couldn't enjoy them (being in them and/or watching) because there were too many people who wanted to be the next Broadway stars and made it entirely about them so it was no longer fun? Was it the complete cheesiness that came with hamming it up on stage as they sung? Everything always being completely exaggerated? It may have something to do with the drama queen ness of it all.
I remember hearing hype about RENT a while ago...years ago. But doing the whole Broadway thing was never my style. Dropping bucks to see a musical? It always seemed so NYC posh. Or so lame. But I thought I'd give it a whirl again, hence the reason I borrowed my coworker's RENT DVD. Now, I have no clue about the storyline. Whatever I expected, it wasn't it. Rock opera? Ick. Singing the entire time? Annoying. And nothing is more over the top ridiculous to me than that "master singer" sound. My Archmere peeps know what I mean. Everything so perfectly harmonious...tenors and sopranos carrying on. Which isn't always bad...it becomes DRIVE ME INSANE bad when its musical/opera story like. And I didn't even like the story. And I was angry at myself because WHY AREN'T THESE APPEALING & FUN FOR ME?!
The whole world raved about RENT...about Lion King...about Wicked. I mean, RENT reminded me never ever to think about seeing these musicals live or on DVD - ever again. In the mist of my confusion, anger and sorrow, I took more grief from my co-worker: "If that's all I got out of it, that's a real shame" since I could not appreciate it for its music and theme. Furthermore I "wasn't very open minded about the arts." Yes, it's a shame, but the open minded comment was BS. Completely. I see more art than this guy...in fact, I think it says a lot that I wanted to try the musical experience again. I can't help it if I hate it. And tough themes...I just prefer drugs and AIDs and East Village grit to be...real. And how are musicals real?
I don't know...I needed some reassurance though. I was very perplexed at my passionate anger toward the Musical so I want to my trusted source:
From me to the Source:
Is it just me or they [musicals] all pretty much SUCK? I tried watching RENT last night (and the Producers some time ago) and both times almost wanted to take a bullet to my head. My co-worker insists that I am not "open minded" to the arts and it's a real shame I hate musicals so much. I say the majority are pretty much lame and created for the people who want to think they know the arts and drop $50-300 on tickets to see the Broadway hype. I need some reassurance. I think it's OK to be a snob in this area?!
:) Chrissie
Source to me:
Guys and Dolls is the ONLY musical.
Me to Source:
LOL. Sit down, you're rockin the boat. How could I forget!? Thanks for the reassurance.
Source's final words:
anytime
Sigh of relief. I am OK. There are others out there like me and we will exist on our higher plane forever perplexed over the appeal of the Musical. Thank you Source for restoring my faith in classy people. Now I just need to restore my faith in the East Village.
I remember hearing hype about RENT a while ago...years ago. But doing the whole Broadway thing was never my style. Dropping bucks to see a musical? It always seemed so NYC posh. Or so lame. But I thought I'd give it a whirl again, hence the reason I borrowed my coworker's RENT DVD. Now, I have no clue about the storyline. Whatever I expected, it wasn't it. Rock opera? Ick. Singing the entire time? Annoying. And nothing is more over the top ridiculous to me than that "master singer" sound. My Archmere peeps know what I mean. Everything so perfectly harmonious...tenors and sopranos carrying on. Which isn't always bad...it becomes DRIVE ME INSANE bad when its musical/opera story like. And I didn't even like the story. And I was angry at myself because WHY AREN'T THESE APPEALING & FUN FOR ME?!
The whole world raved about RENT...about Lion King...about Wicked. I mean, RENT reminded me never ever to think about seeing these musicals live or on DVD - ever again. In the mist of my confusion, anger and sorrow, I took more grief from my co-worker: "If that's all I got out of it, that's a real shame" since I could not appreciate it for its music and theme. Furthermore I "wasn't very open minded about the arts." Yes, it's a shame, but the open minded comment was BS. Completely. I see more art than this guy...in fact, I think it says a lot that I wanted to try the musical experience again. I can't help it if I hate it. And tough themes...I just prefer drugs and AIDs and East Village grit to be...real. And how are musicals real?
I don't know...I needed some reassurance though. I was very perplexed at my passionate anger toward the Musical so I want to my trusted source:
From me to the Source:
Is it just me or they [musicals] all pretty much SUCK? I tried watching RENT last night (and the Producers some time ago) and both times almost wanted to take a bullet to my head. My co-worker insists that I am not "open minded" to the arts and it's a real shame I hate musicals so much. I say the majority are pretty much lame and created for the people who want to think they know the arts and drop $50-300 on tickets to see the Broadway hype. I need some reassurance. I think it's OK to be a snob in this area?!
:) Chrissie
Source to me:
Guys and Dolls is the ONLY musical.
Me to Source:
LOL. Sit down, you're rockin the boat. How could I forget!? Thanks for the reassurance.
Source's final words:
anytime
Sigh of relief. I am OK. There are others out there like me and we will exist on our higher plane forever perplexed over the appeal of the Musical. Thank you Source for restoring my faith in classy people. Now I just need to restore my faith in the East Village.
Saturday, October 28, 2006
The Meltdown & The Glimmer of Hope
So I am at that critical point in one's job where "burnt out" is long gone as are "fed up/disgusted/need to quit" and "I don't care anymore." I've past them all in the race to leave and now I crossed the finish line...which happened to be at the edge of a cliff!
If not once a week, about twice a week, I break down and cry and scream at God because I am still here. He's probably glad I am speaking (or shouting rather)...at least I'm getting it out. I also succumbed to no longer actively seek out jobs but rather see what presents itself to me.
Maybe God heard me...maybe that's why this little horoscope crept in late Thursday. Maybe everything is going to be OK very soon?
From 10/26 Village Voice:
Sagittarius
These are significant times, even if your personal life is not going through a transformation. Pieces of puzzles that have been off the table manage to show up in time to clarify the current picture. People you've lost track of make their presence felt in unusual ways. A fond hope you held years ago and abandoned along the way is suddenly a possibility again. Rearranging your memories and your priorities is a harbinger of what may happen in the next few weeks as Mercury prepares your Jupiter ruler for its upcoming transit through Sagittarius.
If not once a week, about twice a week, I break down and cry and scream at God because I am still here. He's probably glad I am speaking (or shouting rather)...at least I'm getting it out. I also succumbed to no longer actively seek out jobs but rather see what presents itself to me.
Maybe God heard me...maybe that's why this little horoscope crept in late Thursday. Maybe everything is going to be OK very soon?
From 10/26 Village Voice:
Sagittarius
These are significant times, even if your personal life is not going through a transformation. Pieces of puzzles that have been off the table manage to show up in time to clarify the current picture. People you've lost track of make their presence felt in unusual ways. A fond hope you held years ago and abandoned along the way is suddenly a possibility again. Rearranging your memories and your priorities is a harbinger of what may happen in the next few weeks as Mercury prepares your Jupiter ruler for its upcoming transit through Sagittarius.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
The 10 Year Reunion
What a difference 10 years makes. Beth and I fumbled our way through what looked like a war torn campus and parked in a patch of grass to attend our 10 year high school reunion this past weekend. Not sure quite what to expect, we dropped our duds (and our $50 bucks) and made a beeline for the bar (I had to get my money's worth AND mingling is a bit easier with a glass of shiraz anyway). I came out for the 5 year and it was OK...there was more of a turn out, but frankly, the kids were still cliquey. More fun had afterwards at Dolan's bar.
It would seem as though another 5 years mellowed us all. Girls I was friendly to, but not necessarily friends with were wonderful and sweet. People came from far off places like Colorado and Alaska. We talked of marriages, engagements, our jobs...good stuff and no drama :)
I'd say the best part about the event was seeing my friend Brian again. For no other reason, the reunion rocked because I saw him after 7 years. You know when you just realize you and your dear friend are slowly growing apart? I saw it happening...I knew it was happening for some months and I even knew I had to let it. It was treading some rocky waters and heading for a bad place. So I let it go before it went there. But I always felt guilty. I really valued our friendship and I really appreciated the chance to catch up.
So here are some shots from Dolan's Bar. In another few weeks, the official professional Class of 96 shot will be online so I will certainly add it for your viewing pleasure. You can see the one of everyone from 2001 here.
Nice group shot. Me, Litza, Brian, Beth & Becky
Even with 4 inch snazzy purple heels making me 5'7",
I am still the shortest peep here...
It would seem as though another 5 years mellowed us all. Girls I was friendly to, but not necessarily friends with were wonderful and sweet. People came from far off places like Colorado and Alaska. We talked of marriages, engagements, our jobs...good stuff and no drama :)
I'd say the best part about the event was seeing my friend Brian again. For no other reason, the reunion rocked because I saw him after 7 years. You know when you just realize you and your dear friend are slowly growing apart? I saw it happening...I knew it was happening for some months and I even knew I had to let it. It was treading some rocky waters and heading for a bad place. So I let it go before it went there. But I always felt guilty. I really valued our friendship and I really appreciated the chance to catch up.
So here are some shots from Dolan's Bar. In another few weeks, the official professional Class of 96 shot will be online so I will certainly add it for your viewing pleasure. You can see the one of everyone from 2001 here.
Me & Becky - Who knew? Her dad and my dad in the same line of business!?
Four hours, three glasses of Shiraz and a Guiness later...Shirley Temples are the way to go :)
Me, Litza & Brian
Even with 4 inch snazzy purple heels making me 5'7",
I am still the shortest peep here...
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Monday, October 09, 2006
Brown Eyed Girl
For those of you out there with horrific vision like mine, the eye doctor is always the most humbling experience. I typically go every 2 years as I should, however, not having vision insurance in '04 prevented me from doing my duty. So, it's been 4 years since I had an exam, 4 years since I had my glasses fitted with new lenses, 4 years with the same contact lens prescription.
A few months ago, I caught myself squinting to see something and I knew it was time to get it together and go. I hate that I sit in that chair and hold that little patch over one eye, then the next. I mean, why can't I just skip to the end? "No, I cannot see or read the last line!" Wah. As a kid in Catholic school, I always had these tests in the nurse's office and I always failed. Usually in front of several others. I would purposely procrastinate going. Or if I knew ahead of time, I would pretend sick. Anything to not be humiliated the way Catholic schools have a way of doing to children.
As I suspected, my vision had changed just a hair. Which isn't too bad considering it had been 4 years. The Dr. explained all the math and logic behind the vision and the bottom line is: without corrective lenses, I can see/read something clearly only if it's 3 inches in front of my face. Fantastic, huh?
So now I have a new pair of contacts and I scoped out some new frames. My existing ones are fine, but I always feel compelled to use my $100 free insurance money toward the frames since they run more than contacts. It's a toss up between a Revlon pair in "midnight ruby" and another pair by Beneton (who knew?) in "cranberry blue" which essentially is a deep violet. So we shall see...maybe in 2 weeks I'll have some new glasses. I'll have to post a photo.
Next up: the icky dentist. I loathe the dentist. Again though, with no dental until recently, no visit. Not that I'm bitchin about that one...but it's time. I have to suck it up. Thankfully, I've been pretty lucky there. I sure hope it continues.
A few months ago, I caught myself squinting to see something and I knew it was time to get it together and go. I hate that I sit in that chair and hold that little patch over one eye, then the next. I mean, why can't I just skip to the end? "No, I cannot see or read the last line!" Wah. As a kid in Catholic school, I always had these tests in the nurse's office and I always failed. Usually in front of several others. I would purposely procrastinate going. Or if I knew ahead of time, I would pretend sick. Anything to not be humiliated the way Catholic schools have a way of doing to children.
As I suspected, my vision had changed just a hair. Which isn't too bad considering it had been 4 years. The Dr. explained all the math and logic behind the vision and the bottom line is: without corrective lenses, I can see/read something clearly only if it's 3 inches in front of my face. Fantastic, huh?
So now I have a new pair of contacts and I scoped out some new frames. My existing ones are fine, but I always feel compelled to use my $100 free insurance money toward the frames since they run more than contacts. It's a toss up between a Revlon pair in "midnight ruby" and another pair by Beneton (who knew?) in "cranberry blue" which essentially is a deep violet. So we shall see...maybe in 2 weeks I'll have some new glasses. I'll have to post a photo.
Next up: the icky dentist. I loathe the dentist. Again though, with no dental until recently, no visit. Not that I'm bitchin about that one...but it's time. I have to suck it up. Thankfully, I've been pretty lucky there. I sure hope it continues.
Friday, October 06, 2006
The Sinking Ship
This photo pretty much captures my thoughts perfectly...Notice all the people going down with the shop...oops, Freudian slip, I mean, the ship...are men. Aware (or maybe unaware? In denial?) that it's happening and just going down, accepting it, business and fun as usual. The only smart one - the cute girl - is standing at the top like What the F? About to peace them all out.There is this whole other breed of people in the world...a breed to which I will likely never belong. They are the heros, the saviors, the martyrs, the ones who go down with the ship...
While the rest of us watch...or don't watch because we are long gone.
It got me thinking - Why aren't I like that? Why won't I hold on, hold out, go 20 extra miles, bail out people, places, situations, put the sinking ship above everything else in my life, be the hero, the savior or the martyr that goes down with it?
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Waiting for the World...
To do a million things...mostly just change. There are all these things that I know are going on, some in my face, some behind the scenes. I'm just anticipating their arrival...their mark on the world.
At some point my brother will eventually sit down and tell my parents he is gay. At some point he will introduce his boyfriend to them. The 'rents already know though...I mean, they weren't born yesterday and while none of us ever really wondered it, after the events of Labor Day weekend, we all sat up and took notice of words exchanged, behaviors, etc. Let things roll around in our heads.
At some point I will eventually leave this job and begin another journey forward. I will come undone from the quick sand in which I feel trapped each day.
At some point, likely when I have left this job and taken another, I will see for certain if a certain friendship is a real deal. It won't be based on or around work and all its negative vibes...it won't be about being each other's daily distractions...it won't be about competition or who is more valuable...it won't be about who will leave first...and it won't need to blur lines between personal and professional because at this point in the future, it won't exist at work - that unhealthy place that wears us down emotionally, mentally and professionally.
At some point my sense of positive energy, delight, optimism and idealism will return. Gone will be the "What's the use?" attitude that's all consuming now. I'll embrace the idea of starting an small consultancy or determine how to function as a manager to performing artists.
And maybe, just maybe, I'll look with glee again at our house and want to tackle the second bedroom, paint it, install some new carpet, give it a new look. Maybe.
It's also quite possible before the next year starts Vince and I will feel financially responsible again...it's possible I'll make $10-15K more than what I am making now and OMG, I might be able to really make student loan payments worth itemizing.
What if I could stop worrying about affording kids in a few years? And the luxury of finding a place that supports working mothers with true benefits like flex time and telecommuting options? That might be priceless.
Yes, waiting for the world to change.
At some point my brother will eventually sit down and tell my parents he is gay. At some point he will introduce his boyfriend to them. The 'rents already know though...I mean, they weren't born yesterday and while none of us ever really wondered it, after the events of Labor Day weekend, we all sat up and took notice of words exchanged, behaviors, etc. Let things roll around in our heads.
At some point I will eventually leave this job and begin another journey forward. I will come undone from the quick sand in which I feel trapped each day.
At some point, likely when I have left this job and taken another, I will see for certain if a certain friendship is a real deal. It won't be based on or around work and all its negative vibes...it won't be about being each other's daily distractions...it won't be about competition or who is more valuable...it won't be about who will leave first...and it won't need to blur lines between personal and professional because at this point in the future, it won't exist at work - that unhealthy place that wears us down emotionally, mentally and professionally.
At some point my sense of positive energy, delight, optimism and idealism will return. Gone will be the "What's the use?" attitude that's all consuming now. I'll embrace the idea of starting an small consultancy or determine how to function as a manager to performing artists.
And maybe, just maybe, I'll look with glee again at our house and want to tackle the second bedroom, paint it, install some new carpet, give it a new look. Maybe.
It's also quite possible before the next year starts Vince and I will feel financially responsible again...it's possible I'll make $10-15K more than what I am making now and OMG, I might be able to really make student loan payments worth itemizing.
What if I could stop worrying about affording kids in a few years? And the luxury of finding a place that supports working mothers with true benefits like flex time and telecommuting options? That might be priceless.
Yes, waiting for the world to change.
Friday, September 29, 2006
Fatboy Chairs
These are hilarious...in many ways, they don't even compliment the whole artisan feel of American Pie, but nonetheless, I plopped down in one the other day and we snapped away. It's now the official web site image for the bean bag chair.
Monday, September 25, 2006
EPT
It's been a day of baby talk. I had a dream last night that I was pregnant and had a baby girl. Vince apparently had a similar dream that I was pregnant and not telling him (because Vince can't keep a secret and would tell the whole world via word of mouth and myspace the instant I found out and I believe in waiting until one is pretty much through the 1st trimester to blab). Then I checked my email and here my friend Steph had a dream that I was pregnant too?! And I hadn't told Vince yet! (Go figure).
Now to prove my point about Vince and his big mouth, you can check out his myspace blog and see that he's already running with this and planting seedlings for rumours. Something about me being late? I refuse to look.
The irony here is that I am not even late and moreover, hunched over in PAIN with cramps and all sorts of PMS symptoms! As a joke, Vince pulled an EPT from a box somewhere (haven't we all had a scare at some point?) and insisted I take the test. Seriously. Now I'm laughing. But what's even more hilarious is that this device expired in January 2003! The thing didn't even work - no reading, positive or negative.
Mommy. I'm glad I can laugh about this right now. Many moons ago (I guess in 2002), I would have interpreted those dreams as a sign that I was indeed with child and panicked (somewhat). Now we at least know we want kids (in like another 2 years) but if it happened now, oh well. Meant to be.
So if you'll excuse me, I need to pop some Midol with my Dunkin Donuts coffee :)
Now to prove my point about Vince and his big mouth, you can check out his myspace blog and see that he's already running with this and planting seedlings for rumours. Something about me being late? I refuse to look.
The irony here is that I am not even late and moreover, hunched over in PAIN with cramps and all sorts of PMS symptoms! As a joke, Vince pulled an EPT from a box somewhere (haven't we all had a scare at some point?) and insisted I take the test. Seriously. Now I'm laughing. But what's even more hilarious is that this device expired in January 2003! The thing didn't even work - no reading, positive or negative.
Mommy. I'm glad I can laugh about this right now. Many moons ago (I guess in 2002), I would have interpreted those dreams as a sign that I was indeed with child and panicked (somewhat). Now we at least know we want kids (in like another 2 years) but if it happened now, oh well. Meant to be.
So if you'll excuse me, I need to pop some Midol with my Dunkin Donuts coffee :)
Saturday, September 23, 2006
Tiny Little Island Seashore
Thought I'd share some photos of our very recent vacation to the Stone Harbor.
Saturday, September 09, 2006
Happy Birthday Bake Sale Designs!
Thursday, August 24, 2006
There's a Light (According to my Village Voice Horoscope)
Maybe I will soon be unstuck?
SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22–Dec. 21): As I contemplate your week ahead, I can't help but think of the Butthole Surfers' song "Pepper": "They were drinking from a fountain/that was pouring like an avalanche/coming down the mountain." Are you ready for much, much more of everything that interests and stimulates you, Sagittarius? Can you imagine what you'd have to do to expand your capacity for big emotions and provocative sensations? Of course not: No one can be fully prepared for an avalanche. But do the wildest best you can, and your lust for life will provide you with all the intuitions you need.
SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22–Dec. 21): As I contemplate your week ahead, I can't help but think of the Butthole Surfers' song "Pepper": "They were drinking from a fountain/that was pouring like an avalanche/coming down the mountain." Are you ready for much, much more of everything that interests and stimulates you, Sagittarius? Can you imagine what you'd have to do to expand your capacity for big emotions and provocative sensations? Of course not: No one can be fully prepared for an avalanche. But do the wildest best you can, and your lust for life will provide you with all the intuitions you need.
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
Stuck
For the last month or so I've spent the greater part of my evenings in something of a funk. My psyche is probably in that funk during the day while at work but not externally showing its disgust until I leave, walk to my car, drive home, and unwind.
Some descriptive adjectives for my mind lately include bored, unstimulated, needy, emotional, ambivalent.
I've looked around for people, things, projects that motivate, inspire and create some excitement...but if/when I find them, they come and go...or like me, are a bit up and down right now and not reliable. I'm emotionally needy and craving attention and affection but finding myself having to back off certain reactions because they are based solely on this bad state of mind. I've attempted to instill some structure in an otherwise unstructured environment, but it keeps coming undone.
In my moments of despair, I may fall apart for a bit, but my mentality isn't one of a martar. I won't die for the company, won't go down with the sinking ship. Even when I was a victim of bad circumstances, I didn't broadcast it and didn't let it be the reason for not moving forward. I look around myself now and see complacency, see victim mentality. I'm completely uncomfortable in it and impatient toward it. I swing between not caring and being angry.
Around me are little signs of a more creative and inspired Chrissie - my scrapbook, by little toy Double Decker bus, some information from merc, uk with articles all about the London mods of the 60s, some performing arts programs publicizing the 06/07 season...it's all had me raising an eyebrow, but I can't do much more. Not yet. I'm still stuck.
Some descriptive adjectives for my mind lately include bored, unstimulated, needy, emotional, ambivalent.
I've looked around for people, things, projects that motivate, inspire and create some excitement...but if/when I find them, they come and go...or like me, are a bit up and down right now and not reliable. I'm emotionally needy and craving attention and affection but finding myself having to back off certain reactions because they are based solely on this bad state of mind. I've attempted to instill some structure in an otherwise unstructured environment, but it keeps coming undone.
In my moments of despair, I may fall apart for a bit, but my mentality isn't one of a martar. I won't die for the company, won't go down with the sinking ship. Even when I was a victim of bad circumstances, I didn't broadcast it and didn't let it be the reason for not moving forward. I look around myself now and see complacency, see victim mentality. I'm completely uncomfortable in it and impatient toward it. I swing between not caring and being angry.
Around me are little signs of a more creative and inspired Chrissie - my scrapbook, by little toy Double Decker bus, some information from merc, uk with articles all about the London mods of the 60s, some performing arts programs publicizing the 06/07 season...it's all had me raising an eyebrow, but I can't do much more. Not yet. I'm still stuck.
Monday, August 21, 2006
Sunday, August 06, 2006
Postmark
Remember days of pen pals and writing old fashioned letters? I am not certain what had me thinking of this the other day, but I found myself reminiscing days long gone where I'd write page after page of news and events to my Long Island friend Laura. We'd decorate the letters with stickers, enclose little poems, photos, send along postcards, and even swap books back and forth. Then when I went away to college, the notion took hold again. With many of us spread across the northeast corridor, one in the Midwest, another in California, our letters and care packages schlepped across states and into our tiny post office sized dorm mailboxes. Everyday a trip to mailbox was exciting...who knew what you'd get and from whom?
Far be it from me to turn my nose up at the wonders of technology. When I started college in 1996, it was all so new, this emailing business. The clients we use today, at least to my knowledge, were not mainstream. Telnet, Polaris? and Gopher were our new friends/worst enemies as we fumbled our way through the new programs, desperately trying to communicate with our friends far and away. I also believe this is when I first started hating the dreaded "Fw" because while "spam" wasn't part our daily vocabulary, it almost always meant some chain to which I was a necessary link and if I broke it by not passing it along to 10 people in the next 5 minutes I was sure to have horrible luck for the next 10 years.
But I have digressed. It's exploded in the last 10 years and I do appreciate being able to whip together a photo and send it on its merry way to Jocelyn in TX instead of her having to wait a week or two. Even this blog serves as instant gratification for sharing ideas, news, photos. Instantaneously.
But with the death of the letter also died anticipation, excitement, and patience. Registering at Macy's during the wedding planning also meant on any given day, I could arrive home and see a box waiting for me. I spent 2 months being treated to gifts gracing me with their presence every week. Just last week I ordered shoes from Amazon for my friend's wedding and I waited anxiously for 3 days until the box arrived on my front stoop. Not only is it great to get the package, but because the postal service knows better than to perfect its delivery times, it keeps us guessing - will it be here today? Tomorrow?
I think I will try to bring the lost art of letter writing back. There's something very personal and sweet when you see someone's printing or handwriting across a card or paper, their thoughts, stream of consciousness. I'll dress them up with some stickers, poems, photos...drag my ass to the post office for an envelope and postage and wish it well on its journey either across town or across a few states.
Far be it from me to turn my nose up at the wonders of technology. When I started college in 1996, it was all so new, this emailing business. The clients we use today, at least to my knowledge, were not mainstream. Telnet, Polaris? and Gopher were our new friends/worst enemies as we fumbled our way through the new programs, desperately trying to communicate with our friends far and away. I also believe this is when I first started hating the dreaded "Fw" because while "spam" wasn't part our daily vocabulary, it almost always meant some chain to which I was a necessary link and if I broke it by not passing it along to 10 people in the next 5 minutes I was sure to have horrible luck for the next 10 years.
But I have digressed. It's exploded in the last 10 years and I do appreciate being able to whip together a photo and send it on its merry way to Jocelyn in TX instead of her having to wait a week or two. Even this blog serves as instant gratification for sharing ideas, news, photos. Instantaneously.
But with the death of the letter also died anticipation, excitement, and patience. Registering at Macy's during the wedding planning also meant on any given day, I could arrive home and see a box waiting for me. I spent 2 months being treated to gifts gracing me with their presence every week. Just last week I ordered shoes from Amazon for my friend's wedding and I waited anxiously for 3 days until the box arrived on my front stoop. Not only is it great to get the package, but because the postal service knows better than to perfect its delivery times, it keeps us guessing - will it be here today? Tomorrow?
I think I will try to bring the lost art of letter writing back. There's something very personal and sweet when you see someone's printing or handwriting across a card or paper, their thoughts, stream of consciousness. I'll dress them up with some stickers, poems, photos...drag my ass to the post office for an envelope and postage and wish it well on its journey either across town or across a few states.
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
Our Humble Abode
It's been a month exactly...and since we just had the 'rents over for dinner and kicked the place into apple pie order, I thought it was high time I photographed our new downstairs living space.
The Living Room
The Dining Room
The Living Room
The Dining Room
Monday, July 17, 2006
Madonna!
Last night I scored a ticket to the Madonna show in AC. Totally last minute, Vince's father's casino host snagged us a few. Our seats were absulutely spectacular - I could see the woman in all her glory ithout binoculars. And we were right beneath the multimedia monitor. It was truly an amazing show and she just rocked out the entire 2 hours. I think I can die happy now :)
Thanks to modern technology, here's some video footage from Like a Virgin. More videos coming soon!
Thanks to modern technology, here's some video footage from Like a Virgin. More videos coming soon!
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
10 years later...
For those of you who know anything about me, you know that for 5 years my parents were separated. It was one of the worst times of my life. I remember the day that I got the voice message in March 2003 that they had some news to share. I thought someone had died. I called right away and here the big news was that they had reconciled and my dad would move back into the house. I stood motionless in the living area of my old Media apartment, dumbfounded and speechless. It wasn't a "I'm so surprised and excited, I don't know what to say" speechless moment. It was "Don't f with me. I don't have the strength to believe and live this if it isn't the real deal." I believe I muttered a "What?! Wow, that's fantastic!" but really I wasn't buying anything and figured time will tell. Hell, not after 5 years of limbo, indecisiveness, confusion had become the status quo. Just one day and the world suddenly righted itself?
I know lots of others were as skeptical as me. Some didn't know how to take it, what to think and even waited and looked for the catch. When were the other 10 shoes dropping?! I think everyone's guards stayed up for a little while.
Maybe the biggest difference was that during those 5 years, I at 25, finally made it to the other side. I could hope it would work out favorably, but through some relationship ups and downs and some counceling, I finally got that their relationship wasn't mine. I had moved beyond mindlessly hoping they'd reconcile and found my feet planted in that peaceful place where you trust that things will work out exactly as they are supposed to.
So here it is 2006 and it appears all things come around again. The last real family vacation - pre-separation - was in 1997 at the shore. It was a lifetime ago. And somehow these two people got through their own mess, put some kids through school and busted out a big ol' wedding and thought hey, this is the year we'll go back to the shore...have a vacation again. We'll be decending on Avalon after the high season in mid September and barring any hurricanes, the temps and water should be fabulous. My Nana will likely join us and so will my Aunt Bobbie. It's sort of interesting...figuratively, there have been a series of deaths and rebirths in the last 10 years and it is comforting to see how people eventually take pieces of old traditions and past lives and refashion them to fit their lives in the here and now.
I know lots of others were as skeptical as me. Some didn't know how to take it, what to think and even waited and looked for the catch. When were the other 10 shoes dropping?! I think everyone's guards stayed up for a little while.
Maybe the biggest difference was that during those 5 years, I at 25, finally made it to the other side. I could hope it would work out favorably, but through some relationship ups and downs and some counceling, I finally got that their relationship wasn't mine. I had moved beyond mindlessly hoping they'd reconcile and found my feet planted in that peaceful place where you trust that things will work out exactly as they are supposed to.
So here it is 2006 and it appears all things come around again. The last real family vacation - pre-separation - was in 1997 at the shore. It was a lifetime ago. And somehow these two people got through their own mess, put some kids through school and busted out a big ol' wedding and thought hey, this is the year we'll go back to the shore...have a vacation again. We'll be decending on Avalon after the high season in mid September and barring any hurricanes, the temps and water should be fabulous. My Nana will likely join us and so will my Aunt Bobbie. It's sort of interesting...figuratively, there have been a series of deaths and rebirths in the last 10 years and it is comforting to see how people eventually take pieces of old traditions and past lives and refashion them to fit their lives in the here and now.
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
On The Prowl
I picked up my bridesmaid's dress yesterday that I am wearing in Kristen's wedding next month. It's this great two pieced gown in an apple green shade with a light pink sash around the middle. The top is strapless. It's fabulous. However, now I am on a hunt for cute pink shoes. Kristen asked that we all wear pink shoes to go with the whole pink and green themed wedding. Amazingly, I don't own any pink shoes. So the quest is twofold - to find ones that are dressy and classy and sofisticated enough to work with the dress and a wedding BUT still function as a fun pair to match up with jeans or a skirt. Here are two that I am pondering.
And these have absolutely nothing to do with the wedding. They just are cool.
The search (and decision making process) continues...
And these have absolutely nothing to do with the wedding. They just are cool.
The search (and decision making process) continues...
Thursday, June 29, 2006
Unheard Music
And I said, "Totally bored and not challenged now, so I'm craving some real learning experiences."
And he said, "Sorry you're bored. Working can be boring sometimes (like it was here for you sometimes) - it's just life. Make your own excitement."
Later in my travels I read this:
Don't you hear it? she asked & I shook my head no & then she started to dance and suddenly there was music everywhere & it went on for a very long time & when I finally found words all I could say was thank you.
And he said, "Sorry you're bored. Working can be boring sometimes (like it was here for you sometimes) - it's just life. Make your own excitement."
Later in my travels I read this:
Don't you hear it? she asked & I shook my head no & then she started to dance and suddenly there was music everywhere & it went on for a very long time & when I finally found words all I could say was thank you.
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
Big boo-boos
I am wounded. In refinishing our hardwood floors, Vince and I moved odds and ends all around, some taking up real estate in strange unlikely places. Of these odds and ends were vent covers hanging out off to a corner on our steps. Last night I walk my laundry basket down the steps and not really watching where I'm going (except to avoid the TV conveniently placed on the landing and strategically plan the hoisting of a very heavy laundry basket OVER the TV), I step right down onto some piece of metal.
Ow. I have a high tolerance for pain but man, this is hurting like nothing else. I'm just standing there howling, cursing son of a bitch to anything that hears me and Vince comes charging up the basement stairs wondering what on earth just happened. The initial pain is sort of subsiding, but I'm still flustered, agonizing and handing him the basket of clothes while I regroup and explain what I just did. Then I look down. Oh my god, there is blood. Quick, move. I hobble up the steps and into the bathroom and proceed to investigate the damage and holler to Vince to get the Resolve from under the sink to spot treat the now blood stained carpeted step.
Now. Anyone who knows me or ever lived with me knows what a freak I am about cuts and wounds. It's bad enough whatever happened happened. But I moan and whimper and make a huge production out of cleaning and dressing my boo boos. It could be a tiny scrape or in this case, a cut the size of a dime with a pretty deep punctured area.
For 24 hours now I've been dousing this area with peroxide, bandaging it, wearing fluffy socks around so to not apply too much pressure and cause blood to come spilling out again. Tonight I covered it with neosporin and a big ol' gauze bandage that's strapped on with the special tape. I made a trip to CVS for all this first aid. I'm a freak, I know. My sister would be making major fun right now.
It hurts like a mofo. So much for revisiting the gym this week. I wonder if I should get a tetnis shot? Damn, it's late...I was going to see if Vince would feel sorry for me and my pathetic state and make me cocoa with some whipped cream on top. I just can't figure out if Ghiradelli has caffeine in it.
Ow. I have a high tolerance for pain but man, this is hurting like nothing else. I'm just standing there howling, cursing son of a bitch to anything that hears me and Vince comes charging up the basement stairs wondering what on earth just happened. The initial pain is sort of subsiding, but I'm still flustered, agonizing and handing him the basket of clothes while I regroup and explain what I just did. Then I look down. Oh my god, there is blood. Quick, move. I hobble up the steps and into the bathroom and proceed to investigate the damage and holler to Vince to get the Resolve from under the sink to spot treat the now blood stained carpeted step.
Now. Anyone who knows me or ever lived with me knows what a freak I am about cuts and wounds. It's bad enough whatever happened happened. But I moan and whimper and make a huge production out of cleaning and dressing my boo boos. It could be a tiny scrape or in this case, a cut the size of a dime with a pretty deep punctured area.
For 24 hours now I've been dousing this area with peroxide, bandaging it, wearing fluffy socks around so to not apply too much pressure and cause blood to come spilling out again. Tonight I covered it with neosporin and a big ol' gauze bandage that's strapped on with the special tape. I made a trip to CVS for all this first aid. I'm a freak, I know. My sister would be making major fun right now.
It hurts like a mofo. So much for revisiting the gym this week. I wonder if I should get a tetnis shot? Damn, it's late...I was going to see if Vince would feel sorry for me and my pathetic state and make me cocoa with some whipped cream on top. I just can't figure out if Ghiradelli has caffeine in it.
Monday, June 26, 2006
Power Suits
I remember when I graduated SJU and the entire spring and summer of 2000 I was interviewing for jobs. All my brothers and sister's friends would make fun of me, call me a "woman" in my power suit. Off I'd go to an interview. Off I'd return to Deck the Walls. It would be late September when I'd land the Marketing position with Broadreach.
Are all the power suits and associated careers over-rated? How cushy are those jobs, really? I ponder this seriously now. I want cushy, nice salary, kick ass benefits, upward mobility, challenge. This pipe dream - does it only exist at big firms? The Duponts and Astra Zenecas of the world? The PWCs? Deloittes? The places that only recruite executive level or MBAs. At Harvard and UPenn. There's no room at these places for someone like me. My resume and online profile go into some black hole when I hit submit along with millions of others. I'm not even sure that knowing someone at one of those firms would secure one a job.
Do you the people who return my emails? The unsolicited introductions to people I'd like to meet and/or work for? The Executive Director of Montclair University's Arts & Culture Department. The President of a NYC production company. Is this where I am supposed to be? Surely, I can parade around in my power suit at the conferences :) But I worry. If I am able to go back, how do I circumvent the lack of upward mobility that exists in the arts? All I know of this career world is to leave to get ahead. I hate that. I want to stay. But my "career" reads like a small business employee. It's unsettling that large companies don't see beyond that...don't see potential and A player in someone that is.
At least I would be able to pull my suits out of the dark corners of my closet if I return to performing arts. My current supervisor once told me I needed more funk in my clothes to work at the gallery. Seriously. The last time I checked "qualified" and "hardworking" meant more on a given day than what one was wearing. I was wearing black trousers and a chunky hot pink sweater. It could also be that my last supervisor told me I made him uncomfortable in my funky summer tank. Maybe I was scarred for life after that :)
Sigh. The search continues...
Are all the power suits and associated careers over-rated? How cushy are those jobs, really? I ponder this seriously now. I want cushy, nice salary, kick ass benefits, upward mobility, challenge. This pipe dream - does it only exist at big firms? The Duponts and Astra Zenecas of the world? The PWCs? Deloittes? The places that only recruite executive level or MBAs. At Harvard and UPenn. There's no room at these places for someone like me. My resume and online profile go into some black hole when I hit submit along with millions of others. I'm not even sure that knowing someone at one of those firms would secure one a job.
Do you the people who return my emails? The unsolicited introductions to people I'd like to meet and/or work for? The Executive Director of Montclair University's Arts & Culture Department. The President of a NYC production company. Is this where I am supposed to be? Surely, I can parade around in my power suit at the conferences :) But I worry. If I am able to go back, how do I circumvent the lack of upward mobility that exists in the arts? All I know of this career world is to leave to get ahead. I hate that. I want to stay. But my "career" reads like a small business employee. It's unsettling that large companies don't see beyond that...don't see potential and A player in someone that is.
At least I would be able to pull my suits out of the dark corners of my closet if I return to performing arts. My current supervisor once told me I needed more funk in my clothes to work at the gallery. Seriously. The last time I checked "qualified" and "hardworking" meant more on a given day than what one was wearing. I was wearing black trousers and a chunky hot pink sweater. It could also be that my last supervisor told me I made him uncomfortable in my funky summer tank. Maybe I was scarred for life after that :)
Sigh. The search continues...
Thursday, June 08, 2006
Thursday, June 01, 2006
Leftover Stories
Hmmm. I found out today who ratted me out to Marc last year when I was looking for new employment. Of course, a year later, it doesn't really matter anymore. But I'm still irked by it. It's one of those things where at this point, who knows how it really came out, what the context was, etc. I never like feeling as though one person has that much control over people, situations, the industry. If I email other industry professionals now, how do I know they won't pull a similar move? I don't even work for him anymore...technically, it shouldn't matter, to me or anyone else.
I can't let it matter.
There's always a leftover story when you part ways.
I can't let it matter.
There's always a leftover story when you part ways.
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
Being Here Now
This post wedding feeling is still weird. I'm grateful for the honeymoon immediately after the wedding because it distracted me for a week. The wedding completely exceeded my expectations and I was on such a high that I crashed around 1 am the night of the wedding, depressed that it was over.
My dress still hangs in my room and I have to touch it each day. I may wear it around the house soon. Why not? It's so surreal and amazing...I'm taking my time coming down from all this! It's so rare in life you experience such an emotional high. It was my college graduation last time. And I rode that wave all summer of 2000.
My dress still hangs in my room and I have to touch it each day. I may wear it around the house soon. Why not? It's so surreal and amazing...I'm taking my time coming down from all this! It's so rare in life you experience such an emotional high. It was my college graduation last time. And I rode that wave all summer of 2000.
Saturday, May 20, 2006
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