London Calling
In 37 hours I will be in London. I am so excited. Its Thanksgiving, so I know its weird to LEAVE the country...but trust me, the airfares are a lot lower than usual - because who would leave for the UK on Thanksgiving!?!?! Well, I would. And I am.
I usually like to travel that way about once a year. I have friends I can stay with and they always show me a good time. I haven't been for over a year and a half, since I quit my job this year and went for a few months without any solid income. So I was way overdue for a large trip.
What's weird this time is that I am actually nervous. Not for the flight...that stuff never bugs me. And not for the general travelling, because I know it is only a hassle for a bit. No, I am nervous for the first time in my life about actually being in London...and not because of terrorism, contrary to what my old boss thinks. I feel like for the first time I am a real adult going abroad for a few days.
My friends are all in relationships, they all have steady day jobs, and they all live and work in London. It boggles my mind. I mean...these were kids that taught me my first ever drinking games, and now they have live in girl/boy friends. Crazy
Now, the last time I visited in 2005 I went with my friend, Sirrah. She had never been and I felt comfortable enough to be her tourguide. I can only assume that was the reason that trip didn't make me nervous. I had a purpose. In the daytime when my friends were at work or where ever, Sirrah and I were seeing the sights.
My trip to London before that was a bit of a bust. I had a good time in the beginning, but it started to diminish in fun after the third day. People just didn't seem that pumped to go out with me, and I was on my own most of the time. I was so upset about not enjoying my trip that I started thinking that I shouldn't go back again for awhile. So when I went the next year with Sirrah, we had such a good time together that it redeemed London in my eyes.
Now I am travelling alone again. And I think I am nervous that I won't have tons o' fun. So I have to rally tonight, kids. I have to rally.
So nothing but positive thinking from now on. So what if I haven't coordinated with any of my friends yet. So what if I don't have anyone to meet me at the airport...or know where I am going to be staying...or how to get there, once I know where I'm staying. I am sure it'll all work itself out.
NO WORRIES, MATE!! (oh wait...that's australian, isn't it? Damn.)
Cheerio??
A code in by dose
Literal translation: I have a cold in my nose. And my head...sinuses...throat...etc. Is there anything worse than being sick? Well yes, funny you should ask. You could be sick...AT WORK. There actually isn't anything worse than that.
I don't usually want to lay my head down on my desk, but I have done it twice today already - and its only 11:00am.
When I was a kid, I didn't get to stay home from school a lot. It was not really an option, unless I was really really sick. So I was forced at an early age to suck it up and deal with my illnesses as best I could. So it follows that when I became an adult that I still forced myself to go to work even when every fiber of my being tells me to stay home and sleep it off.
What is funny is that when I actually get to work, everyone always tells me to go home. People are always shocked that if I wake up sick that I still try to make myself function like a normal person.
So what is the answer? I don't know if I will ever be able to make myself call in sick to work if all I have is a cold. Its that first call where you have to still make yourself sound sicker than you already are, thats what kills me. The guilt - oh the guilt.
So my whole point for this is that I am sick today...and I think I will be going home in a couple of hours. So if you need me...I'll be at home.
Don't Rain on my Parade
Yes, I saw Barbra Streisand in concert last night.
It was great. Seriously...great.
I know I know...don't judge me. The tickets were free...but truth be told, if I could have afforded tickets, I would have bought them. Whether you like her or not, you cannot deny that she has talent. Most of the time it requires that you ignore her personal life and her politics and the things she says and just listen to her sing (which, lets face it, is the same thing you have to do with Britney Spears...and she doesn't even have a fraction of the talent of Babs) And it must be said that she definitely gives you your money's worth - ignore the fact that I paid nothing. I was the exception.
From start to finish, the whole show is 3 hours. Seriously...three hours. This includes a 20 minute intermission and some solo performances by Il Divo (which I will go into later). So she is on stage and performing for at least 2 full hours. And she doesn't force you to listen to random songs...she goes right to it. She knows you want to hear 'People' and 'The Way We Were' and she gives it to you. Full force.
And let's be serious, folks...the woman can sing. Still. It means that she has spent the last 42 years saying things like, 'my body is a temple...treat it as such' but who cares. As long as she can still belt out a tune, its all worth it. And 42 years. Wow. Over 4 decades of performing...that is impressive.
And she is 64 years old. The SAME age as Paul McCartney, isn't that weird? You would never think to lump them in the same generation, but yet...the numbers don't lie....unless one of them DID lie about their age, which is totally possible. But let's assume they didn't.
Anyway, so in addition to her singing, there were other aspects of the show. She did a whole Q&A with the audience - which included an 'impromptu' performance of a song she hasn't sung in so long. I put 'impromptu' in quotes, because I don't believe that a single moment was out of her control at any point. She also did a little sketch where a Pres Bush impersonator comes out and they banter. It was stupid and unnecessary. But oh well...that's what you get.
And then there was Il Divo. A group I had never heard of before last night. And a group I will most likely forget by Christmas. They sounded great...but had no presence on stage. When barbra is on stage, she commands your attention, you can't take your eyes off of her. When Il Divo had the stage to themselves, my friend took a nap...seriously. She closed her eyes. Doesn't bode well for them. The only thing I will say is that they are four very good looking guys. So I just watched them with binoculars and decided which one I liked best. I don;t know their names, but the French guy is the most my type.
Other than that, it was cool to see the celebs in the audience. Rosie O'Donnell (of course), Katie Couric, and Regis Philbin were all there...and then I also found out at intermission that Bill and Hillary Clinton were both there as well. So needless to say, I did some serious celeb stalking with my binoculars.
Ok. So hopefully I have surpassed all judegements, but I know that isn't possible. When it comes to Streisand, you are either a lover or a hater. There is no grey area. While I say she is undeniably talented, I understand that some people dislike her. And for sure, she charges way too much for her concert tickets...but I will tell you now, MSG was almost completely sold out.
People, who pay that much for tickets, think they are the luckiest people in the world!!!
Brown HAIRED Girl
So I am now...gulp...a brunette.
It was a last minute decision. A change was needed...and I couldn't afford an expensive, 'salon-style' change, so I went with Feria by L'Oreal.
I was going to wait a day or so and really think about it, but after careful consideration and talking to my friend, Adrienne, about it, I decided to rip 'er off like a bandaid. And here we are. I have brown hair...and I LOVE it.
I can't believe I was so scared of doing this. I love the change in my appearance. I think the color looks totally natural, and best of all folks...it only cost me $9.00!!! What more could you ask for??
Now, I am not saying I will stay a brunette forever. We are looking at 26 years of being a blonde and 3 days of having brown hair...I have no idea how it will look in a week, let alone a month. But for right now, i am happy with it.
One time, a long time ago (2001), I dyed my hair red. It too was last minute decision, based on my having just seen Charlie's Angels and thinking Drew Barrymore was the coolest person alive. Anyway, we did it...it looked great...and I freaked out. I just didn't like looking in the mirror and not recognizing myself. It was a long month of me trying to get the red out of my hair...and even after I got blonde highlights I found that there was still so much red.
So you'd think I would learn a lesson and never touch the stuff again...but NO. I learned nothing of the sort.
I lived to dye again.
God, I'm funny.
What do you guys think!!!???!!??!!??
Cold Call Manor
So part of my new job is to make cold calls to agencies and try to "pitch" our company and what we offer. That part of my new job sucks ass.
I hate making cold calls. Basically what it means is that I have to call people randomly, out of the blue, and disrupt their day with my inane sputterings about our company. The worst is that I really don't have a script to say, so I always end up stumbling and saying the wrong thing. Like yesterday, I was on the phone with a woman who I knew from my previous job, and I was starting to get somewhere with her. It was as if she had just eaten and was in a good mood, so I pressed on. Then she asked me something about rates compared to other companies. My response? "Oh. Um. Well, we have excellent rates. And a really clean kitchen with loads of food."
Ok. Not the approach I should have taken. I must have sounded like such an idiot. Seriously. Who talks like that? I was the Forrest Gump of cold calls. And while our kitchen services are great, I am sure that when she asked me about the rates, she wasn't really secretly asking about the kitchen.
Anyway, I hate doing them...so I only really do about 2-3 a day. It feels like I am a telemarketer, and lord knows how I hate them. It is such a disruption of your day, and I feel like making calls like that actually makes people hate me, instead of wanting to work with me. When will it all end???
"Hello. My name is Carrie. Let me tell you about a fantastic opportunity..."
Last Night's Lesson Plan
I am hungover at work today. Is there anything worse than that? I think not. But I have decided in my moment of rallying, that I will make it into a slightly positive thing and write about the things I have learned from my dealings last night. Please...no judgement.
1. Eat eat EAT when you drink. Not just before, and don't wait til after you get home. Stop what you are doing or saying, put down the drink, and for god's sake go and get a slice of pizza. Oh my god, will you be happy you did that in the morning. Didn't do that last night...lesson learned.
2. Don't be excited when you are handed a vodka and soda in a PINT GLASS. Seriously, this bar serves mixed drinks in pint glasses...it is overwhelming and deceptive. More so because you end up drinking it as though it was in a smaller glass. Hence, drunker faster, and you don't realize it. Didn't think about that last night...lesson learned.
3. Shots are bad. Lesson learned.
4. Doing makeup touchups in the bar bathroom is never a good idea. Firstly, the lighting is terrible no matter where you are. Secondly, and may I say more importantly, you are drunk. What makes you think you can draw a straight line on your eyelid when you can't even WALK a straight line. I didn't even ponder that for a second last night...lesson learned.
5. Don't think that just because a guy has a foreign accent that he is cute. Unfortunately, the booze doesn't help much with knowing this information. However, when the guy passes out outside the bar and can't keep his eyes open long enough for you to put him in a cab...that's when you figure it out. Didn't think about it before last night...lesson learned.
There are so many more lessons I can go into. I mean, I haven't even gotten to the cab ride home or when you are at home and feeling like you might get sick. Or the next day when you think you might die if you have to go to work. But I figure these lessons are more important for my immediate future...especially as I have another birthday party to go to tonight. Oy vey...lesson learned.
Gym with Me
Today, I would like to discuss the etiquette of the gym.
First, an anecdote:
I was at the gym at 6:00am last Friday. No, I am not crazy, sometimes I just really like to go in the morning. Anyway, at peak times on weekdays (meaning 5:30-9:30am, 5:30-8:30pm) there is an unwritten rule of 30 minutes per machine. This means that you can't do an hour on an eliptical machine, as there are only so many of them, and a lot of people at the gym.
The first time I heard about this, I thought, what are they gonna do, kick me off the machine?? And then I got my answer...yes, they will. Whoever is waiting in line for a machine...either they will come up to you and tell you to get off, or they will get someone who works at the gym to tell you that you're done. It is upsetting when it happens to you...but then you get over it, move on, and learn from it. or so I thought.
So back to my morning at the gym. i was waiting in line for an eliptical machine. There are five elipticals on this floor, and three of them are a different brand...and I like them the best. Anyway, a girl gets in line in back of me and asks how much longer. I told her I wasn't sure, so she got a gym worker to ask each of the ladies that were currently on the machines.
Two of the three machines I like best were only halfway through their workout, but on the other one, the woman told the worker she was just going to do her cooldown and then be done. So I got excited. Then one of the machines that I don't like frees up, and it is also a machine where the tv headphones don't work...so I was gracious and told the girl in back of me to go ahead onto that one (she brought an ipod..didn't need the tv) and I waited anxiously for the other machine.
So about four minutes pass and one other woman gets off a machine that I don't like, but I decided that I have a minute more so I would just wait it out. But then the lady on the machine I have been waiting for looks at me and gestures to the newly opened machine. It needs to be noted, however, that she didn't not gesture in any kind of nice way. It was more like, "UH - hellllloooo. here's an open machine! stupid!"
I said, "oh, I actually prefer your machine."
She then looks at me in disgust and says, "Well, I'm gonna go another round. So why don't you get on that machine instead." To which I replied, "But you told the gym employee that you were doing your cool down. You've already had a half hour on that machine."
Her: "Yeah. But this machine is free now for you and I will go again on this one. I want to do a longer workout."
Me: (so disappointed and hoping to not get really upset at the gym) "But you said- I mean, I've been waiting - You already did - "
Her: "You can't just wait for one machine. You just have to take which one is available."
Me: "But yours is about to be available!" (yes, I am starting to get upset and raise my voice)
Her: "But now its not available. I am going to do a longer workout."
Me: "Fine. Fine. And lets all thank you for being so polite first thing in the morning. Great attitude."
Her: "I think YOU'RE not being polite."
Me: "Fuck you lady, and the fucking horse you rode in on. You don't deserve a longer workout. No matter what you do, you will always be ugly. There is nothing special about you or the money you pay to this gym that entitles you to anything different than anyone here. And seriously, if I see you in here again, I am gonna pee in your water bottle." (of course, that part was all in my head)
So I have been seriously thinking about this. Was I the impolite one? The worst part is, to get into an argument at 6:00 in the morning starts your day on a particular low note. It sets the bar for the day really low.
Anyway, I've seen her there a couple of times since the incident. And I pretend I don't know that she exists. I just think (and I am sure it is especially so on the UES) that people have this sense of entitlement when they are paying for a service. I mean, come on. We ALL have to pay for our memberships...thats why we ALL have to follow those rules. It is the only fair way.
But fear not. Whether I am in the wrong or not...I will be peeing in her water bottle at some point down the road. Hee hee...
Phew
I am exhausted. Folks, its been almost a month since I last wrote, and let me tell you...what a month it's been.
Firstly, my new job is awesome...exhausting, but awesome. I have never worked in such a relaxed environment. I keep asking permission to do things and they all look at me like I am crazy for asking. Additionally, I have so much shopping to do (i know, poor me) because it is a very casual environment and everyone wears shorts and t shirts and gym shoes...I haven't dressed really casually in at least 5 years. So I have to supply myself with a new wardrobe...work work work.
Secondly, I am going to Vegas tomorrow. I am so ready to relax by a pool and eat great food and hang out with my family...oh, and shop a little bit. Do we note a trend here? I missed having a trip to really look forward to because you have been working so hard. I didn't realize how many things I missed while being unemployed until I became a full time employee somewhere.
Thirdly, I officially went tanning. I was against it for so long, it is so bad for you. But then, after spending so many summers indoors, I realized that sometimes being really white is not so pretty. So I did it. It was a freaky experience, let me tell you. I didn't lay in a bed, I did it standing up. You are basically in a little box, surrounded by those blue lights. I am not scared of enclosed spaces, but I had to make myself count down from 300, just to keep calm. Any reservations I had flew out the window as soon as I stepped out. Seriously, I was golden brown. I spent an entire summer at a camp in Cape Cod and didn't get this nice of a tan. Unfortunately, it fades almost immediately, but I was left with a summer glow. And I am going back today for round two (the guy at the tanning place gave me a two for one deal) So we'll see what color I end up at, I mean, I know it isn't good for me...but damn, does it make me look good!!!
Happy summer, kids!!
It's a Small World After All...
So I am starting a new job next week, and I don't know what kind of time I will have to afford my blog. I know the now staggering 3 people that read this may be upset, but I will try my darndest to keep it up.
That being said, lets move on...
My sister called me the other day, all upset, because she had just run into her ex boyfriend at the grocery store. Turns out he is engaged to be married in a few months. My poor sister had to stand there and listen to this jackass that broke her heart and then congratulate him. I felt terrible for her. But it made me start thinking about how small the world seems sometimes. Like running into your ex at a grocery store...it's the sort of thing you hope will never happen, but always does.
A year ago I was at a friend of a friend's birthday party and I ran into this girl I knew from high school. It was crazy. Through her I re-connected online with a ton of old high school friends. Stuff like that always happens, but you really don't expect it to. It can be really freaky.
I did some number crunching on the subway this morning. It's a summer Friday, so the trains were less crowded, but I figure on an average morning you can have up to 75 passengers on one car. 75 people...that is bigger than my friend's high school graduating class.
Once you have this number, you can multiply it to find out how many per train, by how many trains per hour, etc etc. So how is it possible that last year I found myself on the exact same train as a friend from college? not just once, mind you, but twice this happened. Same car on the same train. It doesn't make sense at all.
My point is this, odds are you are going to run into your ex at some point...but for when you do, have a story already made up that you can tell them to make yourself sound fabulous.
Or wear a hooded sweatshirt everywhere you go so that they don't recognize you. Whichever you prefer.
What's in a name?
So I started seeing a therapist.
I figure I'm in New York, all the cool kids are doing it, I should too. Not a big deal, just wanted to talk to someone(other than my mother) about general life anxieties and woes. I thought it would be a good idea for me to be healthy all the way around. Turns out it is actually making me crazier than before. Let me explain...
Flashback: 2001, just after 9/11, I started seeing a therapist at NYU. At first it was because I wasn't handling the aftermath of 9/11, but after 1 session it turned into regular 'let's deal with Carrie's daily quirks' sessions. Well, after the second session, I started to feel comfortable talking about myself for 40 minutes, and I liked my therapist...Dr. Angel. Then the third visit rolls around and I am waiting in the waiting room to be called in. Dr. Angel pops his head out, and I recognize him immediately and motion to get up. He scans the room and sees me and says, "Karen? Wanna come back now?"
I was devastated. And what's even worse is that now I can't even remember the things I wanted to discuss, because I am too obsessed with the fact that he got my name wrong. Now one of the things I wanted to work on so badly was my fear of confrontation...but being only 3 sessions in, you can imagine that I wasn't so much cured. So that session was totally wasted...I kept trying to think of ways that I could say my name in passing so that he knew it wasn't Karen. Something like, "my mom is always saying, 'Carrie, you can't do that.'" But I couldn't find a way to do it and make it non-confrontational. So I let it pass. It took me the whole next week to 'speech out' what I was going to say to him in our next session. So I sat down in his office and said, "Dr. Angel, one thing that I really wanted to discuss is that you called me Karen last week." His response: "no I didn't." Me: "Oh, I mean, I am pretty sure you did. When you called me to come back." Him: "No, there is no way thats what I said. You must be mistaken." Me: "Oh...ok...well....um.....ok.................yeah. Well, anyway, I, um, just wanted to talk to you about it, because my reaction was something I would like to work on." Him: "Well, you must have heard wrong. But for arguments' sake, lets say I did call you Karen. Tell me your problems..." I was, again, mortified. But we worked through it and it is now an amusing anecdote for my friends.
Cut to present day...yesterday to be exact:
I am at my second session with my new therapist. She is getting a bit more confrontational with me, which I guess is fine, but I am not comfortable enough with her yet to handle it well. Anyway, we get halfway through the session when she starts talking to me about something and says, "Well, the thing you have to realize, Katie, is that you blah blah blah...." nothing registered after that. She called me Katie. I am not crazy. I heard it. BUT I didn't say anything... thinking/hoping it was a one time mistake. So we continue with our conversations and then, "But Katie, why do you think you feel that way?" I stop mid-sentence. Stunned silent. She did it again. But again, how can you correct your therapist? It is such an awkward situation. I mean, I am pouring my heart out to her and she doesn't have the right name down. So I figure I will have to say something, but before I can muster the courage she says, "Well, Katie, we are out of time for today. What is your schedule like for the next couple of weeks? Let's get something down on the calendar." I again stop what I am doing and think, 'just say something. Just say something. Its no big deal. Just say, its Carrie, actually.' But I don't. I chicken out big time. And then I gather my things and say goodbye and for her to have a good night and she says, "You too, Katie, have a great night. See you in two weeks."
How has this happened again? How is it possible that both my therapists have gotten my name wrong. Don't they have my paperwork that I filled out right in front of them??? I swear it is some trick that they teach in therapy school on how to gaslight your patients. 'Make them think they gave you the wrong name. Or that you are looking at someone else's file while they talk to you.' Like when my friend, Graeme, swears to me that he didn't have my birthday wrong, that I told him once that it was March 9th. I mean, people, I have never gotten my name or my birthday wrong in my entire life.
Stop trying to make me think I am crazy!!!!
My name's not Katie, it's Carrie.........................................um, is that ok?
Anglophilia
Ok, I am prepared to admit it, though anyone who knows me will know that this is true. I am an anglophile.
Anglo·phile or Anglo·philic (nggl-flk) adj. Anglo·phili·a (-fl-) n
- One who admires England, its people, and its culture.
- n : admiration for England and English customs [syn:
Anglophilia] [ant: Anglophobia]
This doesn't mean that I wish I were from England...it just means that I love all things English.
What is curious about this particular ailment of mine is that it was latent for so many years. Of course, I have always loved English things. When I was very young, I used to sneak into my parent's room to watch tv while they were downstairs. I would turn on their crappy 12 channel tv and the only channel that had anything on other than the news was PBS...and what did PBS have on? Benny Hill. Now, I can get shot in England for saying I love Benny Hill...but I do. His show was so stupid and funny I just loved it. Perhaps that is where it all started. We may never know.
Then came a few years later when my mom taped a Fawlty Towers marathon. I would sit with her watching those episodes all night. I loved John Cleese...which prompted my mother to make me watch anything Monty Python related. It seemed that more and more I was being exposed to the greatness of England. Well, at least the greatness of their tv shows.
So this built and built throughout my teenage years. And then, lo and behold, the summer before my junior year at NYU, a young woman named Polly moved into the house on the corner where I grew up. We became fast friends, and then that fall I took my first trip to England. It was amazing. I loved every minute of it, but I was a tourist the whole time. It was shop shop shop sightsee; shop shop shop sightsee. But it was wonderful...and as it turns out, I love the accent.
So, when I turned 21 and went away to work in Cape Cod for a summer, I met two young English lads. One I fell madly in love with, and the other became a great friend. Both had a very dry wit and appreciated my sarcasm in a way that no one ever has...except perhaps my parents, and they have to. It was like finding a whole new side of me. The side that appreciated that humor and attitude...I even came to appreciate the way they say vit-A-mins, or Al-U-minium.
I decided to move there. I was determined to do it...so I did. And that, too, was wonderful...though it left me penniless and homesick.
I am now in the beginning stages of my adult years and it hasn't waned at all. In fact, of the online dates I have been on in the last few years, at least 5 of the men have been British. They haven't worked out (my own issues) but it doesn't stop me from actively searching for them online the way some people search for things to buy on Ebay. And it doesn't stop there...I found myself an English/Irish roommate online. How obsessive is that!
So now that we understand what Anglophilia is and where it came from in my case, a decision must be made: Do we cure it...is that even possible? Or do we let it continue until I do something stupid like move to England and become the Talented Ms. Ripley...English accent and all!!
Well, no cure for now. But maybe there is a 12 step program for me...
Hello. My name is Carrie. And I am an Anglophile.
Under Pressure...
So I am a bundle of nerves today. Long story, but the short end of it is that I have a job interview today. But this is besides the point.
Why do I get so nervous??? I work myself up into a panic whenever anything even remotely confrontational happens. My palms get clammy, my heart races, and I get terrible stomach pains. All in the name of nerves.
But it isn't just confrontation that makes me this way. I think it is anticipation. Pure and simple: anticipation makes me ill. I get this way while waiting in line for a roller coaster. I get this way when I am going on a first date. I even got this way at my last job when I wanted to ask my boss for vacation time!! It is just my nature.
I just wish I could be one of those people who thrive on anticipation. Alas, I am not. I am one of those people who enjoys the 'after' moment. When all is said and done and you feel released from something. The euphoria of the anticipation wearing off.
Today will be no exception. I think once I am in the interview, I'll be fine. And then after, I will feel great. With an extra bounce in my step.
I used to be an actress, and I would always have these reactions on show days or audition days. I was always fine once I was onstage performing; but before? Oh man, I was a wreck. It's hard to imagine that some people have nervousness even worse than me. How terrible that must be to literally vomit from nerves. I haven't ever actually gotten sick from nerves, just stomach pains, thank god.
So wish me luck today. I hope it goes well...and if you see me and I have a postcoital look about me, you know I am done with the interview. Or I just had sex. Either way, you are to congratulate me.
Shoes! Bags!
I am so excited to be wearing my newest pair of shoes today that I decided to write about a woman's love of shoes...and then I also decided to extend that feeling to bags (though maybe its just my own obsession)
There is no feeling like having a new pair of shoes. It puts a little bounce in your step, because you are showing off something new. Not only that, but all of your tired old outfits are reborn because of the new shoes. Its interesting, because I don't like shoe shopping all that much. On my list of shopping loves, it is barely in my top five. The stores are always crowded, you can't really tell how the shoes look or feel because you feel funny walking around in them, and it can feel overwhelming with choices. But all of those feelings melt away when you finally find that one pair that you feel like you have been looking for all your life. For me, I immediately go home and try the shoes on again but with different outfits to see how they look.
The thing that people don't understand outside of New York City, in my experience, is that comfort is a sacrifice you sometimes have to make in order to love your shoes. My feet have been through so much trauma, it isn't even funny. But they continue to endure, because there is no feeling in the world like when someone says, "Oh my god...I LOVE your shoes!! Where did you get them!?!?!" and your feet know it.
For bags, it is the same principle. With the exception of the discomfort (sometimes...some bags are Heavy), new bags and new shoes go hand in hand. Putting your wallet and keys into a new bag and swinging it over your shoulder is such a great feeling. What I always end up doing is treating a new bag like royalty, meaning it never touches the floor, I hold onto it protectively when i am on the street or the subway, and if I see any dirt or schmutz on it I will clean it off right away. This lasts for about three weeks. Then I get really used to the bag and toss it around like, pardon the phrase, a pair of old shoes.
But see, that is the beauty behind shoes and bags. They don't have to be new to be loved. I have bags and shoes that I have owned for years that I love as if they were brand spankin' new. And every once in awhile I will be wearing the old ones out and someone will comment on them, and though it may be pathetic, but it makes my day.
Bible Thumpin'
I was riding on the subway yesterday to get to a doctor's appointment. It was a fairly busy train considering it was 1:30 in the afternoon. (I guess I always imagine that the city clears out while people are at work) But the subway car that stopped in front of me wasn't that full, so I figured I got lucky. As soon as I stepped onto the train, I knew why it was not as crowded as the others...There was a bible thumper on board.
Now, a distinction has to be made. These people are all over. Some want to recruit you, some want to yell at you, some are just too crazy to know what they are saying. This guy...this guy was a mixture of all three types.
First of all, he was sitting with a bible across his lap, and an enormous cross around his neck. Secondly, he had an accent, though I couldn't figure out where it was from. Thirdly and lastly, he was shouting. And I don't mean speaking loudly...I mean shouting. Ear-ringing and headache-inducing shouts. And it was non-stop. He barely paused to draw breath.
Now, I had my headphones on...and let me tell you, I turned that mp3 player up as loud as I could handle...and his voice still pierced through. It was really beginning to give me a headache. Not what he was saying, but the volume and speed at which he was saying it. It doesn't bother me when people tell me I am going to hell; that the end is coming and Jesus will save us; that people today are so sinful, Jesus will be disappointed; etc. Those things don't really get to me, and not just because I am Jewish and don't believe in Jesus as a messiah.
But here's my point...oh yes, I have one...why with the shouting? I mean it. You never read about Jesus raising his voice. Was this guy hoping to convert us? Was he thinking that something that he shouted at us would get through and we would be changed? There were several other people on the train, and we all looked like we could use some aspirin...now surely, that can't be what Jesus would have wanted. He doesn't seem the type to want to cause pain and discomfort to anyone. But pain his messenger did cause. Oh yes, did I fail to mention that...the guy on the subway kept calling himself a messenger of Jesus. That was when I figured he is just crazy.
I mean, he didn't have a messenger bag or anything....ba dum bum. Thank you...I'll be here all week. Don't forget to try the veal.
But seriously, folks, I still have a headache. And now, to be perfectly honest, I am kinda annoyed with Jesus. Not his fault, I know. But still...
I am Perfect
I didn't write anything yesterday, so I am making today's a two-parter. Enjoy!
PART ONE:
VERY SUPERSTITIOUSI didn't ever think I was a superstitious person. I have some serious OCD, so that affects my behavior; but superstition isn't my style...or maybe it is. I do believe in luck, and because of that, certain things in a given day will trigger me to think if that day is a lucky one, or if I should go home right away. Little things like, what was the first song that came on my mp3 player in the morning (I have it on shuffle...gotta love the random), or if the bus/subway arrives at the stop at the same time as me. Sometimes, if something really great happens during the day, it goes through my head that something I am wearing must be lucky. Earrings are my big thing. If I am having a bad luck day, I sometimes take my earrings off, just to see if that is what has affected the day (and you know, sometimes, I swear to God...it makes a difference) So basically, I am a crazy superstitious person, and I didn't even know it.
PART TWO:
PICTURE PERFECTI was on the phone the other day with my Aunt Peggy. We were talking about my cousin's wedding a few weeks ago. They got back a lot of the pictures and she was describing the best ones to me (it sounds like a super fun conversation, I know) She then said, 'You and your sister are so photogenic. But I swear, Carrie, some of these photos of you are really funny.'
It made me think how many stupid photos there must be of me out there. I blame it mostly on my father, the photographer. He wouldn't ever take just one picture, he took 5, so after smiling for 4 pics, I would usually pose or make a face or something.
Anyway, I went online and looked around for other stupid pictures I have taken...here are a few of the best (trust me, there are MANY more where they came from)
Thanks, Dad. I do appreciate your taking my picture as you stand right next to me. I'm sure, you being a professional photographer and all, that it will turn out great.
I have never actually worn this costume. This is the photoshop work of one Glennis McMurray. I just think its really funny to look at.
This is a prime example of how I love to take joke photos. OR, is it an example of how strong I truly am?
photo courtesy of Ms. Moira Keihm
I love that my sister looks so great in this photo. Now she is going to put this picture in a frame as a great shot of her and me. Nevermind that I look like a drunk.
Ah, Christmas with the family. That is a statue of a little boy peeing that is supposed to be used for pouring wine. Leave it to me to come up with the tackiest photo possible.
And this, my friends, is one of my all-time favorite pictures. Sirrah and I were on our last day in London. If you ever meet Sirrah, tell her you saw this picture and ask her how hung over she was. We are so pretty...
Dig In!
As I was surfing the internet today, I came across this statement:
Simpson confesses to picking nose
Jessica Simpson has confessed she picks her nose.
The 'Newlyweds' star, who is married to singer Nick Lachey, has admitted she makes the camera crews stop filming when she wants to clean out her nostrils.
There was more to the article, but I won't insult you by listing it here. Instead, I will entertain you with more photos of Jessica's like-minded peers!!!
Dig in deep, Brit-Brit. Just keep the white-trash image alive!
Looks like even supermodels have to see what's up there...
A royal pick. If you are in charge of a country...does it really count as improper??
HOLY LORD!!! She is practically cleaning her eyes as well.
Go Nicky, go!
I bet PARIS wouldn't ever do that in public...
But her good friend, Mischa Barton, would...
And this picture has nothing to do with nose picking, its just one of my favorite celebrity photos of all time...
EEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!
Glass Ceiling
I have been temping at the same office now for over a month. There is the one boss whom I basically report to and am the executive assistant to, and then there is this other boss who doesn't really bother me...or so I thought.
He has now started to rely on me for what I call, 'bitch' services. He is a young guy, in his early 30s, and normally very nice...however, I now get the feeling that if he could call me 'Sweet Cheeks' in the work place without the risk of a lawsuit, he would.
He continually comes scuffling up to my desk and asks in this annoying voice like he is making a joke, 'Caaaaaarrrie, I need a favor...' And then he proceeds to ask me to do some inane task that he could have done in the same time it took him to come to my desk and ask me. Stuff like, 'can you call the Apple store and see if they can replace my broken IPOD?' or 'Can you put this shirt in an envelope so I can mail it properly?' or my personal favorite, 'I am going to forward these forms to you, can you print them, put them in a folder, and give the folder to me?' ARE YOU KIDDING ME!!!!????!!!! What the hell is wrong with people in a work environment that they ask other people to do things?
I hope I am never in a position where I can't know my own office and take care of things myself. Why would you want to rely on someone to do those things? I know they are annoying, but you are hiring an assistant, not a servant. When this office gives me work like that, I start muttering the same thing to myself, 'I am a college graduate. I have a degree. I worked for three years as an assistant with real responsibility. I am better than this. Etc' But that is always followed by, 'I am just a temp. This is not a permanent job. I am just a temp. Temp. Temp.' Sometimes it helps.
Well, at least it calms me down a little bit. Ok, so not at all...but its true. Just a temp, just a temp. Temp Temp Temp...
ok, gotta go...I am sure I need to go and spit shine the shoes of one of my bosses.
In Heat
So I was fast asleep last night. It was chilly out and I was all curled up in bed, my cat, Daisy, lay right next to me. I am sure I was dreaming about something wonderful...when all of the sudden, both Daisy and I woke with a start, for some beast was being tortured right outside my room!
Ok, so that was my first impression. Then I listened more closely and discovered that it was, in fact, a cat in heat. BUT, it was still right outside my room.
Now, I don't know if any of you have ever heard a cat in heat, but it sounds a bit like a fire truck falling off a cliff with its siren still going. It hurts to listen to. And to top it off, it isn't just a noise that one cat makes and then its done. Oh no. It becomes a chorus of horny cats.
It was the oddest thing I ever heard. Like what I imagine dogs howling at the moon would be like. It was also fascinating. I mean, this cat moaned, and there must have been 10 responses from other cats around the area. It was unreal.
Thankfully, my Daisy was having none of that. She had woken up from the sound, but immediately put her head back down and went back to sleep.
The cat sounds continued for the better part of the night, but i was finally able to sleep right though them.
Those were some seriously horny cats!!
"How you doin??"
Date-a-thon
I've been an online dater for almost three years now. That may seem like a long time to some of you, but know this...I am very picky and a serious anglo-phile. I tend to gravitate towards British guys, I don't know why. Of course, the Brits and the Americans I've dated are all a little bit crazy.
I won't go into too much detail here because I still have the hope that one day I will write a one-woman show on all of my online dates. But I will speak vaguely on all of them. Of all my dates, and there haven't really been that many, there have only been a few I think really liked me. And even fewer whom I liked back. With those ones, I always manage to screw it up.
Here's the thing I have never understood...the 'game.' Apparently there are a ton of people who all know the rules to this game. I have no clue. I am always being told...'Oh no, never call him. Don't respond to his text messages. Never say yes to his proposed second date, always say you have plans.' I mean, its a lot to keep straight. Also, what happens if HE isn't following any rules or playing any game? And what do these 'games' entail? Do I need to wear protective headgear?
I made this resolution to not online date for awhile. It happened right after my friend met her first ever internet date and now they have been together for almost 6 months. That sort of pushed me over the edge. So I quit, no big deal. Except that now I am being slowly pulled back in to it's world. But this time I am ready. I know more than ever what I won't put up with. If a guy is crazy or acts weird, I will end it then and there...no more second or third chances. (but I will finish out the first date...good for my one woman show)
What the - I'm 26 already?
Where did the time go? I am 26 years old today, though it's just noon now and according to my mom I was not born yet...but well on my way.
26 doesn't really feel all that different from 25, except that it sounds more 'mature.'
For my 26th birthday, I am going to try and write some new resolutions. Forget January 1st. My new year starts today...in an hour and a half, to be specific (again, according to my mom)
1. I am going to get a new job. One that allows me to be creative and have fun. One with great people to work with and such a nice environment that I really enjoy getting up and going.
2. I am going to stop worrying about money so much (that one will tie into the first one)
3. I am going to get myself into shape...(see #4)
4. I am going to feel confident in how I look at ALL times, regardless of my body shape, weight, hair color, hair style, clothing worn, shoes worn, jewelry worn, etc
5. I am going to do little things weekly to make myself feel/look better; i.e. paint my toenails, exfoliate my body, pluck my eyebrows, soak in a hot tub, sit in the sun
6. I am going to stop thinking I need a boyfriend. I don't. I am not even sure I WANT a boyfriend right now.
7. I am going to seriously try to keep my blog going every day. I know there are about 1.5 people who read it, but that doesn't matter. Its for me, not them (excpet you, Moira...this is TOTALLY all for you)
So those are my current resolutions. I haven't set anything too hard for me to do, and I think in the end, I will be a better person for doing them. Good night, and Good luck
Temporary Insanity
My birthday party was a success...I think. I usually judge my parties not by how many people were there or how long they stayed, but by how many of them call me the next day and say, 'Oh, Carrie. I am not doing so well...I am so hungover.' And in this case, my birthday party was a huge success.
Here's the bad part, I have absolutely no pictures from it. My usual birthday rituals are that I go to eat right before the party, and that I have a disposable camera to take tons of pictures. Well, I did eat before, but we ate at this bar where another friend's birthday party was happening. And I completely forgot to get a camera. It was very un-Carrie.
But regardless of the pictures I didn't take, everyone seemed to have a good time.
The Allman Brothers tribute band was not that bad. They were great musicians, but Cabin Fever is way too small a venue for the volume level they were playing at. We were all hovering by the front door so that we could have actual conversations.
Now, the super suprise of the night was when, at 2:30am, my friends say, "Let's go to Scores!"
I have never been to a strip club before. Oh, I have taken in quite a few topless revues in Vegas, and of course, Chippendales(twice) but those were shows. No lap dances, poles, gross men-well, maybe. So I said, what the hell, lets go.
Scores, it should be said, is not the strip club of anyone's fantasies. And that is disappointing. The lobby is cool and everyone around there is dressed really classy. Then you go inside.
We got ourselves a little space in the back and ordered some drinks and watched the girls onstage. At this point we were all shocked to find that there was no pole on the stage. No pole!?! Thats outrageous. The girls onstage basically walked to the edge of the stage and swayed or rocked their hips back and forth. Then their clothes came off, not in any burlesque or sexy way, just off. There was one dancer who clearly was moving on to better things after this. She danced around and did leg kicks from the floor...and she lowered herself into the splits. Needless to say, our whole group got up and applauded at that.
Yes, lap dances were bought. I got a birthday lap dance from two women, and I swear they were the worst lap dancers ever. One of our group informed me that the lap dances are like baseball pitchers. You never send out your best in the beginning. You send out one or two of your regular, semi-decent pitchers, and then you wait. You wait and then send out your ace in the hole...your ringer. And it is so true.
We waited and turned down lap dances from a bunch of girls...and then we saw one girl onstage and she was dancing and she was beautiful. So of course we bought a lap dance for one of the guys in the group. She did a great job. worth every penny.
It's funny because when you go to a place like this, with a big group of people, you expect that you will be reserved and act all mature. But I swear, we were cheering and giggling the whole time. You are sitting there, drinking your beer, telling a funny story to your friend, and then you gesture with your hands and all of the sudden, there's a boob. It is a surreal experience.
I would definitely go to another strip club, but maybe not Scores. I think I am ready to see some real dancing...some real POLE dancing.
An atTEMPt at fun
**The following is inspired by Glennis McMurray. Check out her blog if you get a chance..she's a blog genius!!**
Carrie's Adventures in Chicago...
Day one: Rehearsal Dinner
Aunt Peggy: Are we having fun yet??
Me: Where's the open bar?
Sandi: I'm bored...
Mom: Ha HA! I found the open bar! Let me tell some stories about the groom...my nephew, Richie!
(p.s. she is really starting to look like Grandma Betty)
I gotta get out of here...the open bar is now CLOSED!!!
Sandi: I'm bored. Let's get out of here. Go home and sleep.
Me: Ok, but lets go out the back way to avoid the papparazzi.
Me: Damn...they found me. Drive fast Sandi!
Day Two: Wedding Day
I am such a New Yorker on my cell phone. Gonna go get my hair done for the wedding...
And don't I look good!!!!
Yes, my shoes have 4 inch heels.
The shoes make me tower over my family. I love it.
We are such an attractive family, no?
And speaking of attractive...
Richie and Sara: Hi. We're the bride and groom. And yes, we will have the most beautiful children you have ever seen. Can we take a bad photo? Hmm....I don't think so. But thanks for asking!!
Awwwwwwwww.
Me: Hello, yellow cab? Please get me out of here immediately!
THE END
photos by Richard Faverty
TEMP top five
Since my daily life is so mundane right now, I decided to share with everyone my Top Five All Time Celebrity Crushes!
Now, it should be said, these are not in order of love, but by how old I was when I loved them...this is important to remember when i get to number one.
#5: 1996-present
Ralph Fiennes
Many of you know him from The English Patient or maybe Red Dragon, but he is oh so much more. He almost always gets naked in his artsy movies, which I always appreciate. This is also, I think, when my Anglo-philia started. His voice, I swear to god, could melt me. I once was on a fan web ring...don't judge me...and I traded a copy of him in Wuthering Heights(so good, you must see it) for a copy of him reading the audiobook of The English Patient. I swear, for a month I went to bed listening to his voice.
#4: 1994-1996
Marlon brando (young)
This man wallpapered my room when I was in high school. Oh my god, he was hot back in the day. He had these muscles that looked like he could kill you with one hand...oooo, I love it. And to top it all off, he is an amazing actor. So watching his movies was always enjoyable. I refused to listen to people criticize him in reference to his weight. I bought books about him and read up on the little tidbits of his life. My dad used to have to drive me into the city to go to this one nostalgia store, where they had all these old movie stills and copies of Life magazine. It also smelled like moth balls and you felt like having a shower after being there for five minutes, but oh, the stuff I collected.
#3: 1990-1994
Kevin Costner
Ok, ok...please look at the dates. I loved him when he was at his most lovable. I think it all started with Robin Hood:Prince of Theives, but I have loved him since the first time I saw Field of Dreams. He is so charming and I can't stand it when he smiles and he gets all those crinkles by his eyes...its so damn cute!! I mean, who else could pull off an American accented Robin Hood against the likes of Alan Rickman??? That takes some guts. It is unfortunate that he started making really bad movie choices. I am still making it up to the friends I dragged to 3000 Miles to Graceland.
#2: 1988-1990
Harrison Ford
Indiana Jones, Han Solo, Working Girl. Do I really need to explain myself here? I went to the library and took out the 'Who's Who' guide to find what his address was so I could send him a letter. It took me 4 days to write to him, and it was a 5 page letter. Did I get a reply? No. I am still hurt by that to this day...sniff sniff
#1: 1996-1998
David Copperfield (don't judge me)
Alright, alright. I know this one takes WAY more explanation than any other crushes. Here is the best I can tell you. I loved magic when I was growing up, and whenever he had a tv special, he always made me laugh, so I crushed on him a little. NOW, my 7th birthday party was a Magic themed party, so I invited David Copperfield. I wrote him a little letter asking him to come and perform at my party, and he WROTE ME BACK! Well, I mean, he sent me an autographed picture and signed it, 'Thanks, David Copperfield.' I had that picture in a special album for years...until I realized how uncool it was...I am pretty sure I threw it away. Tragic.
So thats that. Of course, there are others that have come and gone, but these 5 guys stuck around the longest. And, like most crushes, they linger. So whenever they have new movies coming out, I can't help but get excited (hence me seeing 3000 Miles to Graceland). My oldest crush on D.C. culminated last February with a trip to his office and warehouse and Magic Museum in Las Vegas. He was not there, but there were pictures everywhere. I remember holding my breath whenever I heard a door open, in case it was him. Someday...someday...I will meet them all...except Marlon Brando, sigh.
A TEMPorary Good Idea?
So I went to my cousin's wedding this last weekend. It was in Chicago, and it was a full weekend of festivities. This meant that ALL of my family would be around ALL weekend. Friday-Sunday, all family, all the time.
Now, I have never been an advocate for lying to your family, but I swear, if you are ever in this situation, lie like your life depends on it.
I don't think I have ever had so many people ask me about my life. 'So you quit your job? How are you making money? You're TEMPING? Where? Oh, do you like it/would you stay? What do you want to do? Are you seeing anyone?' (that one always gets asked, but I threw it in to further prove my point)
The worst, by far, was my Uncle. He approached me AT THE WEDDING RECEPTION and started in on me right away. Now this is a man I have always gotten along with, and I think he is a doll...and until now I never understood why his own kids don't talk to him that much.
Here is how it went:
Uncle - I just spoke to your mom and she says you quit your job. Why?
Me - Well, it was time. I had been there almost three years and I knew I didn't want to pursue the field I was in.
Uncle - But you left without having another job?
Me - Yes.
Uncle - (dumbfounded) Why?
Me - I didn't want to be an agent, and I knew that so long as I was comfortable there I would never really try to pursue other work.
Uncle - You know there is something to be said for being comfortable and getting a paycheck.
Me - Yeah, I know. But I'm only 25, it's ok for me to shake things up a bit. And I am temping now, so I am making some money.
Uncle - Temping? But you said you wanted to pursue other work. Do you have any irons in the fire?
Me - Yeah, a couple. I am really taking some time to figure out what I want to do.
Uncle - But couldn't you have done that at your previous job?
Me - I guess so, but again, I just needed a change.
Uncle - Do you really think that was a good idea?
Me - (pause....pause...pause) Yes.
Uncle - Well, you are a lot braver than I am. I would think you wanted more security than that.
Me - Thanks...? (and then I made like someone was calling for me across the room and left)
I mean, what is with that!!!??? 'Do you really think that was a good idea?' Did he really ask me that? What was I supposed to say to him? 'Oh my god...you're right! I should try to get that job back!!!' How mean is it to rub my face in the fact that, technically, I am still unemployed.
Anyway, had to get that off my chest. It has been a week and a half since the wedding and I am still recovering.
Too much family is NOT a good thing.
Tempo
I am not crazy, let me just preface with that. However, there are certain things that happen in movies that I cannot handle. Of course, everyone has them. Some people can't watch movies with spiders or snakes, some just can't watch Woody Allen movies. I cannot watch movies where people's hair gets cut off in their sleep.
But wait, you may be saying, there are only a couple of movies where that happens...Well, I don't care. Just knowing that someone had the sick thought of, 'Hey, I know how we can be scary or freaky, lets cut her hair off in her sleep!' stupid.
So to this day, I will never watch 'I Know what you Did Last Summer.' And no, it is not because I hate J. Love Hewitt or her boobs. It is because I was TOLD there was a scene where sara michelle gellar wakes up and has her hair all cut off. That is my worst nightmare realized.
This also happens in a little known movie called 'Drop Dead Fred.' A COMEDY! Folks, this action is not funny. Don't ever think it is. Phoebe Cates falls asleep and her friend wakes her and half of her hair is cut off...just one side! Horrific.
I think it stems to my not wanting to be out of control with my hair. I know, it grows back, and usually in the movies, people end up getting really cute cuts to cover the attrocity, but it all means nothing.
On 'Friends,' when Phoebe cuts Monica's hair thinking she meant Dudley Moore, when Monica said Demi Moore, well, that episode still haunts me. I can't explain it. It is an irrational fear.
If you have this fear, let me know and we can start a support group. We can call it, 'People Against Unnecessary Cutting of Hair Association' or the PAUCHA. We'll have buttons made!!
Oh, and once I was stupid enough to share this fear with a roommate of mine in college. I thought I could confide in her...but she used it against me. If we got into a fight, she would always end it by saying, 'Carrie, shut up or I will cut your hair in your sleep.' It was a long semester.
No TEMP for you!
I went to brunch yesterday with a friend of mine and we got loaded. It was so much fun.
You know what's not fun about brunch, though; being drunk all day on a Sunday. Seriously. Never again.
In the last two months I have had the unlucky experiences of being drunk early on a Saturday and a Sunday. Both render me entirely useless, and I am resolved never to do that again.
All I want to do is go to bed early...and what fun is that!?! No, I will stick by my feelings that drinking is a sport best played at night.
Cosmic TEMPlate
Do you believe in Karma? I wasn't sure if I did before, but I do now.
I had to concede defeat to Karma. It kicked my ass these last two days. And you know what, PARTY karma is the worst. Because it doesn't just affect you, it also affects those around you that want to go to your party.
I won't go into details as I want to protect those involved; but I will say to you that while I thought I was on top of the world in planning my birthday party, in fact, Karma was just revving up to beat me down. I'm ok now. I had a mini meltdown, or what I like to call, "a St. Elmo's Fire" moment. Things are better now.
I believe in Karma. It's one of those things you don't ever really think about until you have to take a look at your situation and wonder how things got the way they are...am I being too existential?
Well, I will leave you with this thought...tis better to have a party at a bar you love with a tribute band, then no party at all.
TEMPted
Ok. I am going to open up and confess what I have been hiding for quite sometime now.
I. Love. ABCFamily.
Seriously. I love that station. I don't know what it is for anyone else, but in my apartment it's channel 14. It is truly the best station around. I have a handful of friends whom I can speak to about the ORIGINAL ABC Family movies. But not their original programming.
Wildfire....I love you....in secret.
Beautiful People....you move me...in secret.
Well, not anymore. I am out and proud of it. I mean, have you seen 'Lucky 7?' It has PATRICK DEMPSEY in it for pete's sake! And there is this other one called 'I Want to Marry Ryan Banks.' Jason Priestley, Bradley Cooper, and Emma Caulfield...what a team! They always utilize actors that are from shows we all know and love. Emma Caulfield and Nicholas Brendon(celeste in the city...so good) are both from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Jason Priestley, Brian A Green(This Time Around...amazing) obviously, both from 90210. The list goes on and on and on. You cannot imagine the talent they manage to tap for these movies.
It is a virtual who's who of 'who's that?' You know you know them, but you can't quite figure out from where. Genius.
And let me again just say that i love the original programs. Yes, it has isolated me from the rest of the world, as no one is really into talking about what Daphne Zuniga is doing on Beautiful People this week. But I don't let that stop me from tuning in every week.
Keep 'em coming, ABC Family. You know I'll be watching.
TEMPest in a teapot
So I am having a birthday party dilemma. Every year for the past three years, I have held my parties at Cabin Fever. I love that place. They do karaoke, the drinks are cheap, and they are 4 blocks from my house. Nothing better than that.
And it isn't just my birthdays. I have all kinds of parties there...the last one I held had almost 75 people throughout the night. So suffice to say, I bring in good business to them.
Anyway, so my birthday party is set for May 6th. I called the bar owner last night to confirm I could do it then and that there would be karaoke. Here is our conversation:
Gene (the owner): "Well, we have a live band scheduled at the bar that night. So that should be great for your party!"
ME: Oh, (disappointment) yeah. Um...what kind of band is it?
Gene: Well, do you know the Allman Brothers??
ME: Yeah...
Gene: They are a tribute band. They're great. They bring in great business for us.
ME: Oh, yeah. Well, Gene, let me be honest. I love live music, but the reason I love your bar so much is the karaoke. And all my friends love the karaoke as well.
Gene: Well, lets see if we can work something out. Maybe if you can guarantee 50 people, I can cancel the band.
ME: GUARANTEE?? No, sorry Gene. I want to have my party at your bar, but I can't guarantee 50 people.
Gene: You know what, Carrie. You are so great to us, we love holding your parties. If you want karaoke that night, let me call my karaoke guy and see if he's free. I'll call you tomorrow.
ME: Oh great, Gene! That's super. Thanks so much!!!
NEXT DAY
ME: (calling Gene) Hey Gene. It's Carrie. Just seeing if we are all set for the 6th.
Gene: Hey Carrie. Oh yeah, its no problem. Figure its a done deal. I'm just waiting to hear back from my karaoke guy. He is pretty flaky about getting back to me. But don't worry, if he can't do it, we'll figure something out. It'll be karaoke or the band.
ME: (pause pause) OH. So, if your guy isn't available, you are still going with the tribute band??
Gene: Yeah. So, I'll call you when I hear from him.
ME: um....ok (weak)
So thats that. I am now stuck. I can't send out my invitations yet because there is no way on god's green earth I am having my party at a bar with an ALLMAN BROTHERS TRIBUTE BAND. I hate this. More than that, I hate the thought that I will have to find a whole new bar to have my party...and the scary scary thought that there might not be karaoke.
Why does my birthday have to bring me such woes!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!
Temporarily Yours
So I've been remiss about writing here...basically, I am still unemployed and I didn't want to talk about it. But my good friend, Moira, told me to keep writing, if not only for her amusement, but also because there is enough comedy happening in my life to write about.
Here is a story from last Wednesday...step into my time machine and buckle up to see me make an ass of myself...
Scene: outside of Grand Central
I realize after a bit of shopping that I have to pee really badly. I figure since I am a mere two blocks away from my old job, I would call my good friend, Marla, and have her let me in so I can use the facilities. So I turn around and start to head back down 44th towards 5th Ave.
About half way, I run into a former client from my old job and he has a friend with him. We start chatting, catching up, when I tell him, "I have to pee!" He laughs and says, "I smell like beer!" So you can imagine how well our conversation is going.
As I am standing there talking to him, I am also doing what I like to call, "The Dance of a Thousand Pee-pees" where basically I just shift from one leg to the other. As I am doing this, I start to also do a little kick with my leg; just kick it back a little bit, in a very girlie way. Anyway, so I kick my right leg back and then lower it down, but as I do, I hear this RIIIIIIIIIIPPPP sound.
I turn around and the heel of my boot got caught in this woman's skirt and ripped a hole in it!!! It was awful. It was one of those skirts that has the crocheted-like material on the outside. Anyway, she was foreign and spoke with a very thick accent and said, "you rriiippppeed my skiiirrriiiit."
I was apologizing so profusely, and I kept looking back at the client and his friend, who just stood there, dumbfounded.
Eventually she started walking away, but really slowly. She would walk a bit, stop, look at the skirt, look back at me, and shake her head, and then she would start walking again.
So now I am trapped. I can't walk towards the office because I will end up catching up to her and I don't want her to yell at me anymore...BUT, now I have to pee more than ever...AND I can't even do my 'pee-pee' dance because it causes so much devastation.
Eventually the woman gets to the corner and disappears. So I say my goodbyes to the guys and move to start walking to the office. As I move, some woman rams right into me (karma, people...it exists) and I trip over to the side. I swear, I wasn't even moving when they hit me. It was like everyone else was drunk around me. Terrible
And I still feel bad about that woman's skirt. But at the same time, I think, shit happens, lady. It was an accident. Did she want me to offer to pay for the skirt? Does she know I am just a TEMP!?!?!?!?!?!
Ok, story is over. Please watch your head as you step out of the time machine. Take care
My friends are all in relationships, they all have steady day jobs, and they all live and work in London. It boggles my mind. I mean...these were kids that taught me my first ever drinking games, and now they have live in girl/boy friends. Crazy
