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.

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.

Goofing Around At Chris & Jonquil's House

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.

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

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!

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.

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...

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.

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.

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...

For $1100...

Who cares if I want to wear it a few more times?

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.

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.

Snapshots

Sans a camera on our wedding day, I relied wholeheartedly on my memory to capture the moments. Ian captured everything else!

Sleeping horribly the night before at Betty and Ed's.
A surprise guest 6 days before it was due to arrive - Ibuprofen being my good friend.
Bethann and I dragging ourselves to the hair salon and neither feeling fully awake until hair and makeup were finished and we looked fabulous.
Oh wait, I take that back - Bethann hated her makeup and I was talking her off the ledge at 9:30 that morning.
Jocelyn and Kristen arriving at the house, getting dressed, and then helping me into my gown, everyone laughing seeing boobies.
On the porch, dressed finally, Ia snapping away, attempting to pin on dad's boutinier.
WHERE WAS THAT STINKIN LIMO?! (I cannot wait to see the photo of Jocelyn "That bastard!")...
Me trying to get into that limo when it finally arrived at 2 minutes before 11.
Last minute guests arriving at the church…I wait anxiously in the limo.
Looking up, seeing Jill on the steps waiting for her cue.
That crazy aisle runner!
How surreal it was walking down the aisle with dad then seeing the entire church packed full of people.
My leg shaking on the altar – is this ceremony almost over?!
Looking around to stay calm - Look at all these people! This church is PACKED! Jill is in the balcony and sounds amazing with the organ and the trumpet...
Walking hand in hand with Vince to the back, people clapping...
Grandparent photos outside the church.
How glorious it was at the park - wasn't it supposed to rain today?! I cannot believe it's 70 plus degrees and sunny.
The random dude peeing in the park.
The ice cream truck.
Getting to the TH and all of us devouring the appetizers!
Our parents being introduced to the Cure.
The bridal party being introduced to Fleetwood Mac's Don't Stop - everyone standing and clapping and all of us dancing.
Going right into our first dance and everything around us feeling like a blur.
Me and dad dancing to Paul Simon's Father & Daughter and both of us being all teary eyed.
All of us crying while Vince danced with Aunt Eileen.
Trying to compose ourselves as our food was served and taking it all in from our head table view. Scott spun all my singer songwriter tunes - I distinctly remember David Gray, Dave Matthews, U2, Crowded House and the Finn Brothers, Lindsey Buckingham, Richard Ashcroft (I dragged Vince onto the dance floor for C'mon People)...
Eating every last bit of my food!
Picking up the digital camera and taking a few photos with it.
Liz coming over and offering uplifting words to us.
Becca knocking over the candelabra (thankfully after it was blown out).
Some of the first songs being We Are Family and Shout (A little bit louder now).
Dad busting out the Turtle.
Being dragged into a big ol family photo just as Kool & The Gang came on (hello? I want to dance!?)...
THE NEUTRON DANCE!
Dancing with Susie to Katrina and the Waves
I cannot believe Uncle Joe caught that garter?! Where was my back up Morrissey song then?
Devon helping me to the bathroom.
Wandering into the Den and Brian, Johnny, and Mitchie getting everyone a round of camacazie shots.
Standing by the doorway and just watching everyone for 5 minutes.
Last snapshots outside on the deck.

Como se dice "Relaxing" en espanol?

I am in Mexico right now about 24 hours from saying Adios, Hasta Luego. Our time here was much anticipated and has proven very relaxing. Like when I go to the shore - I just sleep better and feel more relaxed overall. I think I slept a good 10 hours the first two nights we were here and since then about 9 hours each night. At home I stay up until 11 or midnight. Here, I've passed out as early as 8 pm or as late as 10:30 pm. I suppose the heat and the walking and activity have really wiped me out! Normally I come home from a vacation wanting a vaction, but this time, I can say I am very happy with the quality of R&R I've had here.

Here are some photos of our time here in the Riviera Maya.
www.gensales.net/images/mexico/index.htm

Standing On the Shoulders of Giants

That is where I am right now. I've been here for some time. It's similar to being on the ledge of a cliff, except there you are truly freaking out and ready to jump. Here I am very high up, on top of the world (literally and figuratively) with this amazing panorama view. I've seen a lot of memories pass before me and a lot of the current chaos play out before me from this place.

It's not terribly scary, but it just makes me very aware. I'm not jumping on Saturday...I've been preparing for this day for eons now! But it does mark the beginning of a new phase of my life. I suppose I've been shedding little parts of me for a little while now and the older I get, the less attached I am to those little parts and what they represented. Listening to some old tunes now (and when I compiled the DJ list) I am reminded of where I was and how far I've come.

Everyone asks me how I am feeling. I am not worried about Saturday (except maybe the weather). I'm not worried about saying "I Do" and that it's forever. What I think about isn't Saturday or next week or even next year. I think about 15 years from now because I have absolutely no idea who I'll be, who Vince will be, who we'll be together, how we'll be with kids and other responsibilities factored into the equation. That complete unknown. That is what is more frightening.

One thing that hit me yesterday was my soon to be new last name. There's a lot in a name and I've always been called Banana or Chiquita Banana or some term of endearment. It saddens me to let that go. I'd keep both, but two Italian last names are a mouthful. I thought what I might do is use some wedding money to customize a Sticks box and have it immortalized.

And from up here, closing in on the day, the reality that Mrs. D isn't here sinks in. I've channeled so much energy into getting things accomplished and here and there I'd crack, cry, and then feel as though from Beyond she let a wave of calm wash over us. Last week at Toppers Elisa used her GC for my manicure and said it was from mom and how it was her gift from beyond. It was this unexpected "presence" of her that day. But in the whirlwind that Saturday is sure to bring, how will I see her presence then?

Two weeks ago in my Village Voice horoscope it read the following:
SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22–Dec. 21): In contemplating your astrological omens, I'm reminded of Terence McKenna's comment about a friend who "hurled herself into the abyss and discovered that it was a feather bed." If you can summon the courage to dive into the scary depths, Sagittarius, I do believe you'll be pleasantly surprised at the comfy, luxurious digs that await you at the end of your descent. Now go ahead and yell, "Geronimo!" which the dictionary defines as an exclamation used to express exhilaration when leaping from a great height.

Fitting considering my metaphor?

Me & My Shadow

A fabulous Frank Sinatra song. It made the cocktail hour cut. Maybe because it illustrates my life right now. I'm the oldest child, so by nature I'm used to being first, being the guiney pig, being the one in the spotlight (sometimes good, sometimes not), setting the example, needing approval...all those wonderful things that make us first borns Type A and over-achievers. For all the built in stress that comes from that place, it's still familiar territory and where I tend to feel most comfortable. Which makes it extremely difficult for me to be in anyone's shadow.

I remember in Third Grade, this new girl joined our class. We'd have these little contests to see which aisle was the cleanest at the end of each day. Naturally, the new girl's row would win daily. This went on for some time. Little gold stars would adorn their pumpkins, turkeys, holiday trees or whatever symbol for that month. 9 years old I was busting my ass to sweep my floor and clean my desk and my row never got a star. When my parents announced to the teacher we were moving and my last day would be in early December, only then did my row win and get a star.

That's a funny example of someone just playing favorites. That's more annoying than anything else. What's worse is having to work with someone who is always outshining you...to the point where you almost wish that person wasn't there just so you could have a chance. Because I'm a great people person and I can make sales when I have a chance. It's also that there aren't enough people to go around so the ones that do come in my co-worker either already knows/is working with or he swallows them up. Nothing left for the rest of us.

Like the ball hog in basketball.

The nice thing about track was even though there might be one girl or guy who was the fastest on the entire team, he or she wasn't in every race. That person had his/her own area and own race. You knew they were great and valuable to the team as a whole, but essentially, it was about you and your personal best.

It depresses me. My mentality needs more. It needs the chances, the ownership, the sense of acomplishment, the moment to shine, even if it's like the track star that shines in her one area. Marketing is a behind the scenes job and maybe once in a while you see fruits of your labor in an article that's published. I just always enjoyed it because it's a way to express myself creatively. But networking and selling fuels the extrovert in me. It makes me happy. And right now, I'm just not. There's just a big black shadow in front of me all the time.

Nothing To Eat

Apparently no one wants to eat at this wedding. The Catholic Church and the food - the two biggest issues surrounding this wedding. They were issues in the beginning and floated through other discussions and now they are here again. Maybe the flowers could take a close third. Let's think about that. The Church, food, flowers. I mean what the F?

Vince and I had our tasting at the Townehouse the other night and we came away stuffed little pigs but with some well thought out plans for the food. Since there isn't a choice, we'd go with a chicken and we felt a breaded chicken stuffed with a little ham and swiss would be great. A twice baked potato and veggies on the side, a shrimp bisque soup and a caeser salad. Yum. And we chose our top two apps. Meanwhile back at the ranch (68 DOgwood Lane), the 'rents have had this menu for months...MONTHS...and even looked at it last week, knew about the tasting, knew about a details menu with the TH, knew decisions had to given 2 weeks out. Even knew about my crazy work schedule this week. I told them yesterday about the tasting and asked them to have their stuff squared away in time.

They don't care. They purposely controlled the information and didn't tell me they were purposely flaking out on the decision until 7:30 this morning. I mean, what the hell? Food is important and they haven't been giving its proper attention the entire time. Now with hours before the deadline, they are still floundering. I try to take control of my own details and this is what I get.

There's just no respect. No one is treating us like adults who know how to make a decision. I'm too disgusted to write any more.