I wake up at approximately 7am every morning, but I don't need your alarm, set to NPR loud enough to hear but not loud enough so I can hear news while I'm lying in bed. Now, I get up and make noise and turn the radio up pretty loud from about 7-8am while I'm getting ready.
But last weekend, when I was up waiting for my cat to be delivered on Saturday at the ungodly weekend hour of 7am, I couldn't excuse your NPR alarm going off for an hour with the murmurs of Weekend Edition seeping through your floor and my ceiling. Especially since I can't understand the news.
So between you stompers and the people in the basement apartment next door (who share an air shaft with our building) who insist on bringing their yippie yappie dogs outside at 6:30am with their small children yelping in chorus-type fashion every morning AND who installed a series of wind chimes which we can hear with closed windows and the TV on, I decided that I am not going to bang on the ceiling every morning for a week (because then I'd have to turn down my radio) or scream "People are sleeping, you motherfucking idiots! No one has WIND CHIMES in the city!" (Because the kids and the dogs, despite my best efforts, really are cute. And because the little family did a good job of cleaning up their half of the air shaft.)
So instead I'll sulk in my apartment, cursing the wind chimes and struggling to hear Morning Edition through parque floors.
Friday, October 27, 2006
Thursday, October 26, 2006
I'll be back I promise
I still don't know how my October got so busy. Well I do in a way---putting off my thesis for two months, dating Pough out of nowhere and seeing him at least twice a week, developing new friendships and discovering that my dance card really is full.
Today I had a major breakthrough at work--which I'm going to celebrate with a glass of wine that Poofy sent me all the way from Wisconsin. A toast to what will be... and how much better I'll feel after the New Year, when school will be over and my loan repayment has not yet kicked in.
Watch for Snow White on the A train around 8pm on Saturday....Pough is my woodsman that I will meet in Brooklyn, somewhere around Carroll Street. Sigh. Everything is coming together and yet I'm still unsettled. It may because I ate an entire pound of chicken about an hour ago.
Today I had a major breakthrough at work--which I'm going to celebrate with a glass of wine that Poofy sent me all the way from Wisconsin. A toast to what will be... and how much better I'll feel after the New Year, when school will be over and my loan repayment has not yet kicked in.
Watch for Snow White on the A train around 8pm on Saturday....Pough is my woodsman that I will meet in Brooklyn, somewhere around Carroll Street. Sigh. Everything is coming together and yet I'm still unsettled. It may because I ate an entire pound of chicken about an hour ago.
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Tequila Talking
Instead of talking about the new boy and thereby condemning a potential relationship with someone who knows what I talk about when I tell him that you can tell the age of a Beatles poster by how tired George looks, I'm totally coping this meme from www.jennslyvania.com - go out and buy Jen's book, Bitter is the New Black today!!
* * *
I'M AMAZED…
that while I workout every day, I can barely lift my new cat. He's a fatty.
I DOUBT…
that Tony LaRussa wears those sunglasses for a reason. I think he's trying to be cool Corey Hart-style.
I CAN’T SEE…
why anyone ever, or still, watches Survivor
I WANT TO BEAT WITH A SOCKFULL OF QUARTERS…
Women that think wearing a varietal of colors, patterns and textures that do not match counts as being "funky" in New York. Funky is ugly no matter what, chica.
I'M ADDICTED…
to chocolate covered peanuts and raisins. They masquerade as healthy...to me. Perhaps not to my tummy and ass, though.....
I FEEL BAD…
that I don't listen to my roommate's problems anymore. There's just SO many, and they always change, and they exhaust me. No wonder she sleeps so much
I WATCH…
Grey's Anatomy despite that my leading man, T.R. Knight, is gayer than a rainbow flag at an Indigo Girls Concert. First my cousin Josh, now him. So disappointing that it's not the 17th or 18th or even early 19th Century when we ladies could have married homosexuals and then just had affairs with our servant men for thirty years while the guys go off to get off in a field somewhere hunting.
I LISTEN…
See below for another blatant copy from a cooler blog than this.
IF I HAD A MILLION DOLLARS…
I'd do lots of things, including Sean Watkins.
I WANT…
The situation in Darfur to be OVER. What can we actually do other than go to Savedarfur.com and cry while watching 60 Minutes?
I CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT…
Cigarettes and coffee, just like Rufus Wainwright
I'M OBSESSED…
with RENT. I can't get over it, although my attention span finally waned when my friends & I went to see Le Boheme at City Opera last Friday and were not impressed. (Their Roger also sucked, just like the one that's on Broadway now).
I THINK CHILDREN…
are fucking annoying, unless we are talking about little Asian girls or cute African-American children. White kids always look dirtier for some reason. Maybe because dirt shows on Caucasian skin, or they look like they are about to attend a wedding if they are dressed up even remotely. I know it's horribly un-PC of me, but ethnic kids truly are cuter.
I CAN’T WAIT…
‘til KIDS INCORPORATED is released on DVD, watching Fergie rock AquaNet bangs and IS white, cornrows and weaves nearly twenty years later (now) not withstanding....
I'M PROUD…
that I'm not as slutty as I used to be.
I HAVE A DREAM…
someday I'll be married to someone important. Like a third string football player. (Please. I know my own limits. I have no problem riding on someone else's financial shirttails.)
I ALWAYS WEAR…
My blinged out rings that my mom gives me everytime I go home. Now that she's past her mom's jewelery and on to her own, I always think of one component that they always mention on the suicide warning Oprah show: if the person starts giving away important, personal possessions....
I FEAR…
That I'm not in the right job. And what George W. Bush will do when he's out of office. I have a feeling he has more evil to do.
I WISH…
for celebrity culture to go AWAY already.
I ONCE ACCIDENTALLY…
threw a log and a teacup as a child IN TWO SEPARATE INCIDENTS, resulting in my brother not having a full eyebrow on one side and being unable to grow a mustache.
I NEVER…
admit to listening to New Kids on the Block. (oh shit)
I’D KILL TO…
I was going to say save my friends and/or family, but that's a dumb answer, isn't it? I'd kill to have enough money that I'd never have to worry about money again. Seems like I should have been born 10 years earlier and begun a career at Enron.
I MISS…
being able to scream really loud to express anger. There's nowhere you can do that in the city without getting arrested, an abundant amount of attention, or beocming depressed by the fact that no one cares.
I'M LOATHE TO ADMIT…
that I don't know as much about music as I pretend to. I do know a lot, but a lot of times its fibbing, guessing, or just simply avoiding the question that makes everyone think I know so much.
I’LL NEVER FORGIVE…
* * *
I'M AMAZED…
that while I workout every day, I can barely lift my new cat. He's a fatty.
I DOUBT…
that Tony LaRussa wears those sunglasses for a reason. I think he's trying to be cool Corey Hart-style.
I CAN’T SEE…
why anyone ever, or still, watches Survivor
I WANT TO BEAT WITH A SOCKFULL OF QUARTERS…
Women that think wearing a varietal of colors, patterns and textures that do not match counts as being "funky" in New York. Funky is ugly no matter what, chica.
I'M ADDICTED…
to chocolate covered peanuts and raisins. They masquerade as healthy...to me. Perhaps not to my tummy and ass, though.....
I FEEL BAD…
that I don't listen to my roommate's problems anymore. There's just SO many, and they always change, and they exhaust me. No wonder she sleeps so much
I WATCH…
Grey's Anatomy despite that my leading man, T.R. Knight, is gayer than a rainbow flag at an Indigo Girls Concert. First my cousin Josh, now him. So disappointing that it's not the 17th or 18th or even early 19th Century when we ladies could have married homosexuals and then just had affairs with our servant men for thirty years while the guys go off to get off in a field somewhere hunting.
I LISTEN…
See below for another blatant copy from a cooler blog than this.
IF I HAD A MILLION DOLLARS…
I'd do lots of things, including Sean Watkins.
I WANT…
The situation in Darfur to be OVER. What can we actually do other than go to Savedarfur.com and cry while watching 60 Minutes?
I CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT…
Cigarettes and coffee, just like Rufus Wainwright
I'M OBSESSED…
with RENT. I can't get over it, although my attention span finally waned when my friends & I went to see Le Boheme at City Opera last Friday and were not impressed. (Their Roger also sucked, just like the one that's on Broadway now).
I THINK CHILDREN…
are fucking annoying, unless we are talking about little Asian girls or cute African-American children. White kids always look dirtier for some reason. Maybe because dirt shows on Caucasian skin, or they look like they are about to attend a wedding if they are dressed up even remotely. I know it's horribly un-PC of me, but ethnic kids truly are cuter.
I CAN’T WAIT…
‘til KIDS INCORPORATED is released on DVD, watching Fergie rock AquaNet bangs and IS white, cornrows and weaves nearly twenty years later (now) not withstanding....
I'M PROUD…
that I'm not as slutty as I used to be.
I HAVE A DREAM…
someday I'll be married to someone important. Like a third string football player. (Please. I know my own limits. I have no problem riding on someone else's financial shirttails.)
I ALWAYS WEAR…
My blinged out rings that my mom gives me everytime I go home. Now that she's past her mom's jewelery and on to her own, I always think of one component that they always mention on the suicide warning Oprah show: if the person starts giving away important, personal possessions....
I FEAR…
That I'm not in the right job. And what George W. Bush will do when he's out of office. I have a feeling he has more evil to do.
I WISH…
for celebrity culture to go AWAY already.
I ONCE ACCIDENTALLY…
threw a log and a teacup as a child IN TWO SEPARATE INCIDENTS, resulting in my brother not having a full eyebrow on one side and being unable to grow a mustache.
I NEVER…
admit to listening to New Kids on the Block. (oh shit)
I’D KILL TO…
I was going to say save my friends and/or family, but that's a dumb answer, isn't it? I'd kill to have enough money that I'd never have to worry about money again. Seems like I should have been born 10 years earlier and begun a career at Enron.
I MISS…
being able to scream really loud to express anger. There's nowhere you can do that in the city without getting arrested, an abundant amount of attention, or beocming depressed by the fact that no one cares.
I'M LOATHE TO ADMIT…
that I don't know as much about music as I pretend to. I do know a lot, but a lot of times its fibbing, guessing, or just simply avoiding the question that makes everyone think I know so much.
I’LL NEVER FORGIVE…
Monday, October 16, 2006
I'm going to die
I have, this week:
1) A manuscript-sized stack of thesis research and a draft due the first weekend of November;
2) Plans to go costume hunting with Sharon & Pough this week after work;
3) The Mets all died up in the National League Finals---Game 5 tonight and a date for Game 6 on Wednesday with Pough;
4) Six, count em, SIX tipsheets due at work on Tuesday which my bosses will likely ignore today and make me run around like a crazy person tomorrow;
5) A midterm due on Sunday;
6) Dates with my gals for the opera and a party in the Slope next weekend.
I'm tired just looking at the list. Needless to say I won't be blogging.
But I will be kissing the Pough. It's a good life, I must say. The whole working on the weekend thing is NOT cool, though.
1) A manuscript-sized stack of thesis research and a draft due the first weekend of November;
2) Plans to go costume hunting with Sharon & Pough this week after work;
3) The Mets all died up in the National League Finals---Game 5 tonight and a date for Game 6 on Wednesday with Pough;
4) Six, count em, SIX tipsheets due at work on Tuesday which my bosses will likely ignore today and make me run around like a crazy person tomorrow;
5) A midterm due on Sunday;
6) Dates with my gals for the opera and a party in the Slope next weekend.
I'm tired just looking at the list. Needless to say I won't be blogging.
But I will be kissing the Pough. It's a good life, I must say. The whole working on the weekend thing is NOT cool, though.
Thursday, October 12, 2006
He Likes Me, He Really Likes Me
On Friday, my girl Sharon and I went out to Alphabet City and I was "on fuego" as one of my lady friends says. I met this guy from Poughkeepsie and made out with a bunch of randoms (at another bar, so Pough knows nothing). I always have a superfun time with Sharon, so I'm excited to spend a couple more weekend nights on barstools with her.
But to the main part of my story: I went on Sunday afternoon park date with Pough and then we went out again last night. We drank and ate last night, which was good, and we discussed the Mets, which we're both big fans of.
Now, I know the boy likes me thanks to the truth serum that is alcoholic cider. The fact that we're going out again on Friday is a great sign, although I think I'm going to have to cut off the three-times-a-week thing because I frankly don't have time to write my thesis AND date him that much. So, a little about Pough: has great real estate in Carroll Gardens, so if I was his gf I'd get to spend a lot of time in my fave part of Brooklyn; he has a good job that he just got promoted at and won't let me pay for anything; I would totally run the relationship but he wouldn't let me walk all over him.
Hmmm.... but yet, something tells me that this guy may not be for me but that I still gotta give him a chance. He could be like Todd in that I didn't really like him....until I did.
But until I do, I have a drinks date on Friday as well!
But to the main part of my story: I went on Sunday afternoon park date with Pough and then we went out again last night. We drank and ate last night, which was good, and we discussed the Mets, which we're both big fans of.
Now, I know the boy likes me thanks to the truth serum that is alcoholic cider. The fact that we're going out again on Friday is a great sign, although I think I'm going to have to cut off the three-times-a-week thing because I frankly don't have time to write my thesis AND date him that much. So, a little about Pough: has great real estate in Carroll Gardens, so if I was his gf I'd get to spend a lot of time in my fave part of Brooklyn; he has a good job that he just got promoted at and won't let me pay for anything; I would totally run the relationship but he wouldn't let me walk all over him.
Hmmm.... but yet, something tells me that this guy may not be for me but that I still gotta give him a chance. He could be like Todd in that I didn't really like him....until I did.
But until I do, I have a drinks date on Friday as well!
Sunday, October 08, 2006
Let's Go Mets
Every year in April, the city is tagged with "Maybe this year could be it" signs for the underdog Mets. And every year in October Mets fans listen to the Yanks fanatics gloat about their legacy for the ubiquitious money team. But this year, things are different.
This year, the Mets are going to make it. Or at least they've made it past the Yanks. My teams are going 2-1 right now: even though the Twins barely made the playoffs and were expectedly swept, they made it, which I wouldn't have predicted at all during the regular season. And now my Mets are doing the best I've seen them since I moved here.
Now if only the Packers could actually catch what my man Favre throws, I'd be a satisfied sports fan. But I'll have to settle for not worrying about him getting killed because his offensive line are idiots.
This year, the Mets are going to make it. Or at least they've made it past the Yanks. My teams are going 2-1 right now: even though the Twins barely made the playoffs and were expectedly swept, they made it, which I wouldn't have predicted at all during the regular season. And now my Mets are doing the best I've seen them since I moved here.
Now if only the Packers could actually catch what my man Favre throws, I'd be a satisfied sports fan. But I'll have to settle for not worrying about him getting killed because his offensive line are idiots.
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
God Kicks My Ass
So today when I got off of work I was feeling stressed and stifled. Every morning for the past couple days, I haven't wanted to get out of bed.
It seemed like my whole life, with exception of my friends, was questionable: did I really want to work where I do? Should I move back home and give the one-who-got-away a real chance? Why does my roommate swing on the crazy pendulum EVERY freaking day?
But then I got home, watched the Mets WIN as I worked out and then switched over to the Channel 55 rerun of Oprah. She had a few teens on that had tried to kill themselves (in pretty gruesome ways) who managed to survive. I was reminded of my very own thwarted attempt of taking an entire bottle of Advil, back in the 7th grade. I could only think of how proud twelve-year-old Meghan would have been of this 25 year old lady crying on her couch in New York City (although the clincher would have been that the Ipod was invented, I (she?) am/was a size six and had good hair most of the time.)
So, what I realized that even if my roommate is crazy, it's a temporary situation--we've clearly lived together too long, and I'll probably love her more when I move out. My job is lovely, but I AM in the pits of knowing what I'm doing but not being able to execute it yet. No one is in the position I'm in of my friends, so I'm stuck commiserating with people who haven't had their idealism pulled out from underneath them.
As far as Mr. Right but Not Right Now goes, I have to count my blessings: he really, really cares about me and will never leave me again, no matter where I live. I can call him whenever I want to vent or drink on the phone, and I love falling asleep to his voice. He truly knows me--how many people can you say that about?
Plus, I've got cigarettes, a bottle of Baileys and only one more day of work before I can go to the park when everybody else is clacking away in the halls of my never-actually-named workplace. Not really all that bad, is it?
That being said, I really do believe in God on days like this. Not that I don't every single day, but He certainly knows how to kick your ass into perspective. I wonder if he has ASSISTANTS to do this kind of handiwork....because clearly others (ahem, roommate, people in the Sudan, GWBush...) need more guidance most days than I do.
It seemed like my whole life, with exception of my friends, was questionable: did I really want to work where I do? Should I move back home and give the one-who-got-away a real chance? Why does my roommate swing on the crazy pendulum EVERY freaking day?
But then I got home, watched the Mets WIN as I worked out and then switched over to the Channel 55 rerun of Oprah. She had a few teens on that had tried to kill themselves (in pretty gruesome ways) who managed to survive. I was reminded of my very own thwarted attempt of taking an entire bottle of Advil, back in the 7th grade. I could only think of how proud twelve-year-old Meghan would have been of this 25 year old lady crying on her couch in New York City (although the clincher would have been that the Ipod was invented, I (she?) am/was a size six and had good hair most of the time.)
So, what I realized that even if my roommate is crazy, it's a temporary situation--we've clearly lived together too long, and I'll probably love her more when I move out. My job is lovely, but I AM in the pits of knowing what I'm doing but not being able to execute it yet. No one is in the position I'm in of my friends, so I'm stuck commiserating with people who haven't had their idealism pulled out from underneath them.
As far as Mr. Right but Not Right Now goes, I have to count my blessings: he really, really cares about me and will never leave me again, no matter where I live. I can call him whenever I want to vent or drink on the phone, and I love falling asleep to his voice. He truly knows me--how many people can you say that about?
Plus, I've got cigarettes, a bottle of Baileys and only one more day of work before I can go to the park when everybody else is clacking away in the halls of my never-actually-named workplace. Not really all that bad, is it?
That being said, I really do believe in God on days like this. Not that I don't every single day, but He certainly knows how to kick your ass into perspective. I wonder if he has ASSISTANTS to do this kind of handiwork....because clearly others (ahem, roommate, people in the Sudan, GWBush...) need more guidance most days than I do.
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