the speech

I gotta say, it was quite a week. Without much free time I didn't really get a chance to blog about it all, so I may be playing catch up for a while. But at the very least I have to start off with my speech at the wedding.

The wedding itself was beautiful. Sunny and pleasant weather, serene in the remote country location. The bride looked amazing, the groom dapper. During the 15-minute ceremony you could see the groom getting choked up, and the bride almost went with him.

We did the receiving line, and then hit the bar and the appetizers.

Oh, and the shots. My mischievous cousin Joe was there, harbinger of tequila doom. I did two shots within fifteen minutes. Then the caterers asked if they should start pouring the champagne for the toast. I nodded.

At this time Andy the best man came up to discuss how the speeches would go down. We agreed he would go first and I would go next. No one else was interested in speaking so this would be simple. Could have been the fact that there were 110 people and no microphone that discouraged others, just maybe.

I got everyone's attention and silenced the room, and Andy got started.

Let me tell you, he did a FABULOUS job. The speech was written down, well thought out and prepared. It called out all the cool funny things about Katie and Scho. Really, this guy nailed it.

Yeah, at this point I was a little nervous. There was not much meat to my speech, and I had just composed it a while earlier. But I think I had the sentimentality to bring it.

He finished speaking, and I stepped up. Below is a paraphrasing of my own speech; memory and tequila may change a detail or two, so please forgive me:

When Katie told me last year that Scho had popped the question; I realized I might have to give a speech at their wedding. That had me worried, as you all know I am very shy and hate speaking to large groups of people.

*Pause for laughter*

In thinking of what I could talk about, I have to think back to when I was about three and a half years old and found out my mother was pregnant with a younger brother or sister. My brother wanted a brother, and I wanted a sister.

The competition was ON. Because obviously my strong will and competitive streak could effect the outcome of my mother's pregnancy. Of course.

Obviously as the time came, it turned out my mother had a little girl, and I had a sister. I had won.

The thing is, I really did win.

*This is where I start to choke up for real*

I won because I got Katie as a younger sister. Such a sweet, loving, caring generous person. We are so lucky to have her here, especially having almost lost her so recently.

*Still choking up, fanning my face to JUST HOLD IT TOGETHER*

Really I couldn't be luckier to have Katie in my life.

And then she went and met Mike.

*Roll the eyes, wait for laughter*

Here is this guy, car racing, game with tevas spanking friends, living in sin, occasionally singing songs from Pirates of Penzance in public.

*Everyone calls out for Scho to sing a song, we laugh*

Thing is, Scho is a really great guy. He genuinely loves and cares for my sister, and so again I am so lucky that Katie has found someone who loves her so much and will always be there for her. They are truly a wonderful couple and I couldn’t ask for a better person for my sister.

*Raising my glass*

Here is to Katie and Scho and a long happy life together!

Ho boy, I got choked up so easily. It was very heartfelt though. How often do you get to publicly tell someone how happy you are that they are in your life? Hard to do, but so worth it.

countdown is on

The wedding steadily approaches. Errands have been run, last minute things remembered. Today we pack up to leave for the wedding site. See, the location is three hours west of where Katie and Scho live, so they have to remember everything the first time around.

Not that they are stressing or anything. Ha.

Go time is noon, I have to hit the pavement a little earlier to buy an overdue bday gift for one of my nieces. Oh, and maybe a wedding gift or card might be a good idea as well.

I'll work on my speech tonight. Or tomorrow. Guess I'm a procrastinator, eh>

changes

Coming back to Michigan is always a bit strange. Even though a few physical landmarks change here and there, for the most part it feels to me like time stopped when I left. Yet when I walk into any place that looks the same, it has moved on. The furniture is rearranged, the walls are a different color, and the tenants are brand new.

The same goes for the people I knew here. When I went into the Novi Mongo for Katie’s bachelorette, even though I was one of the trainers that opened the joint all traces of me were gone. No store opening employees were left to remember me, my presence wiped out completely. Time had obliterated my history in six short years.

Friends of course still recall me and go out of their way to spend time with their old buddy, but their lives have moved on most of all. Regular routines, interests, and lifestyles completely foreign to me make up their every day.

Last night I had dinner and later on drinks with some of my old friends, Dev, Dirk and Dirkette. They are all healthy and happy, and luckily the worst they have to worry about are difficult real estate deals and grumpy neighbors. (Well, also worries about work layoffs, but so far so safe) Interesting to hear, intriguing for me to see into these parts of their lives, but completely foreign to me at the same time.

Later on in the evening my Michigan ex came out and joined the remaining party of Dirk, Dirkette, and myself. I didn't realize this until the ex pointed it out, but I have not actually seen him in five years. It is still weird for me to see him because he will always be the ex. I don't know if he will ever get another name. Maybe, but I don't know. I still even get uptight when I consider seeing him again.

Dirk and Dirkette had to bow out by midnight due to it being a school night, reluctantly because they were concerned that I nay need a buffer with the ex. I was okay, conversation flowed smoothly and I was having fun. This was a relief because I have been so reluctant to see him, not wanting to bring up so many old feelings.

After having a couple more drinks at the bar, the ex invited me back to his place. (I can see your collective eyebrows rising now...) Mostly because he has been able to spend the year at a really amazing place, a very adorable, quaint little house on a gorgeous plot of land. It almost feels like the country yet is right in the middle of suburbia.

He looks pretty much the same, he acts pretty much the same, he seems pretty much the same, but I could see the things that had changed in him. A lot of the things he has become were things I had wished he had been when we were together.

At one point I tried to broach the subject about why he wanted to meet in the first place. I explained that although I had been curious about him and his life, I was hesitant to spend time with him because when I think of him I still have that tug of sadness, of loss. He really didn't answer me; he just probed me a little more on my feelings. So I changed the subject back to something light.

Finally after a couple of hours of talk and laughter I left. He mentioned that he was still awake, and then he mentioned it was a long drive back to my parents. But what was I to do, stay? I would only get more confused doing so.

On the drive home I felt the loss again. There had been a reason we had been together, and that had not changed. I was cursing myself for putting myself into this position, such a masochist! It is like playing with a lose tooth - it hurts but you just can't stop prodding.

Waking up this morning I felt much better. Sleep tends to clarify things for me. It hit me that so many things that had developed in his life, the things that made me wonder 'what if', were the very things that draw us father apart. Our lives have gone on to different paths that branch out in different directions and are not meant to cross over again. Although many things about us make those paths look similar, I doubt that they will lead to the same place.

It is funny though, I really felt like he had something he wanted to say to me. I wonder what it was, and if it would have given me more closure, more peace. Or if it was something else entirely whether I would let my mind or my gut dictate my reaction.

Ah, the thing about what ifs, they are just lost story lines drifting off into the unknown.

bachelorette party

Armed with disposable digital cameras with review and delete capacity, (believe it or not cheaper than Polaroid film!!) I sent two teams, one with six women one with five, out on the Novi Marketplace chock full of bars with this agenda:

Katie's Big Night Bachelorette Party Scavenger Hunt

Rules

No proof no points!!!

Each team member must bring in at least five points

Teams can split up, but stay in the same bar

No recruiting non-bachelorette party members for collections

Definition of body shot is to lick salt off neck or chest, take shot from chest (if from man lap), eat lime from mouth

Can tell people cause for collections

Points/Item

1 / One Alcoholic drink consumed by a party member
5 / Collection of ten coasters
5 / Alcoholic shot consumed by a party member (not including body shots)
10 / Picture of a stranger spanking a party member
10 / Collection of phone number (keep in mind we will call to verify later)
10 / Unused condom
20 / Picture of team member mooning camera
25 / Get a stranger to do a body shot off of a member
25 / Picture of a party member spanking a stranger
25 / Picture of team member in men's room
25 / Picture of team member dancing on bar or table
30 / Do a body shot off of a stranger
30 / Special note from stranger on party member's butt
50 / Picture of entire team in men's room
50 / Picture of team member with a stranger sporting a mullet
50 / Lock of chest hair
50 / Picture of a couple making out (tongue must be involved)
50 / Picture of a stranger demonstrating 'old school' dance
75 / Picture with another bachelorette on her big night
75 / Picture of team member sitting on stranger's lap serenading him/her
100 / Picture of a person throwing up
100 / Picture with a uniformed official
150 / Piece of underwear given by a stranger (previously being worn by them)
200 / Getting thrown out of a bar
200 / Picture of the whole team mooning camera
TBD / Bar 'souvenirs'

See, I thought the groups would run from bar to bar, but it seems The Post in Novi was more than large enough and populated enough to accommodate the entire hour and a half hunt.

Both teams performed impressively. The only items that were not hit were 1) bar souvenirs 2) getting thrown out of the bar 3) picture of someone throwing up and 4) picture of team member with a stranger sporting a mullet. Many items were hit several times. For gods' sake we collected three pair of men's underwear between the all of us.

After the game ended one girl in the party did throw up - so much so she was carried back to the hotel. Mental note, don't give extra points for doing shots, seems people drink them instead of beers.

Even though I was responsible for the party, I have to say it went amazingly well. There was full group participation. No one felt left out, everyone contributed. There was much laughter and social interaction. Katie was not excessively made to stand out or be embarrassed, and those who like that kind of thing could act out as much as they liked. We got to dance, we got to drink. And at least five people, if not more were hung over the next day. Good party!!

Also funny and totally out of the blue, I got offered a job. In Michigan if I should ever choose to come back. There was a bachelor party at the bar (responsible for the gathering of quite a few points) and I spent some time talking to the groom's father. Who it happens own his own company, something to do with convention services. So if I ever feel the call of Detroit...

Best part of this all? Photographic proof baby. Gotta drop off the cameras to get me some pics. Bwa ha ha.

ghaaaa

In a massive panic I ran around all afternoon getting all those last minute things in order before I headed out to Michigan. Run run run, hurry hurry hurry. I was late for my shuttle bus, traffic was awful, and I got to the airport...

My flight was cancelled.

AAAAAAAAAAAA.

First time for me. Guess I learned my lesson to check on my flight before leaving home. Three hours on a bus. Lugging my HUGE luggage (eight days back in hometown worth of clothes, do you UNDERSTAND how much I pack???) down and then up again five flights of stairs.

On the bright side, I have to admit I am relieved to be spending less time at my parents' house. There is nothing comforting of happy for me in being there. Literally I swear my parents are my kryptonite, the cutting shears to my Samson hair. Now I need only spend one day alone with their company.

So the irony is that that entire running around was really fruitful. I went shopping. Yes, me. By choice. And boy, did I make out! A pair of pants, a skirt, five shirts and a pair of shoes all for under $150. Best part, they are all a size smaller than the last time I went shopping (except for the shoes of course) and in them I look HOTTT. Okay, maybe I look good. But it is still fun.

Today was also my first experience with the eyebrow threading. I have never had my eyebrows professionally done before, so I was a bit nervous. This is what my eyebrows looked like when I would tweeze them:



No, I did not take a picture of the grow-out phase. I need not share the horrific hairy caterpillars with the world.

When I arrived at the salon, they had lost my reservation. They were kind enough to squeeze me in anyway. I met Rasman, and let her know I was an eyebrow virgin. She nodded, just asked me how I managed my brows before. Tweeze, tweeze, tweeze. Then she started.

Wow, that hurts. It was really interesting; I don't know quite how it works. Seemingly they take two threads side by side and pull them taught. An awful lot of hair was pulled out of me. The results:



Damn skippy that is a good result! Especially if you compare old to new. I was always proud of my artwork. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

If you are REALLY observant, you may notice the difference of hair color in the pics. Hmmmm.

(p.s. Six Dollars. SIX DOLLARS. Best beauty value ever? Hells yes.)

won't you be my neighbor?

Seems the apartment across from me is open. A decent sized one-bedroom place on the fifth floor of a walk up, all for a measley $1500 a month.

*non-new yorkers take your time to recover from Manhattan sticker shock*

Anyone looking? How cool would that be if a friend of mine was across the hall?

groomsmen

The wedding steadily approaches! My plans for the bachelorette party this Saturday are all coming together - bwa ha ha!

I need some input from you folks - seems my sister and fiancé are looking for some ideas for groomsmen gifts. Gift certificates, flasks, and golf paraphernalia have been rejected. Have you guys heard of or been part of any interesting ideas? Scho wants original, but I never hear what passes hands at these things.

Katie already has my gift, and she is really excited about it. A little too excited, I am suspicious...

i hate mondays

I know today is Tuesday. I hate it anyway.

My new hire that was supposed to start today sent an email to my HR person yesterday saying he found another job. I of course found out after I had come in and went through a minor stress moment getting his workspace in order. Now I have another month until I get some relief, and that month is if I am lucky and agressive in my interviewing.

Worse, I found out someone I adore from work passed away over the weekend. He was diagnosed with cancer last year, and had gotten better. Now he is gone. I don't know the details yet, but I am guessing that if it wasn't cancer itself it was complications due to the chemo. For those ex-penguins, he was in Academic Marketing and his initials were DL. Truly this place won't be the same without him. Heartbroken, truely.

Today SUCKS. Thank god I'm out on vacation next week. I've never been this excited to head back to Michigan...

directions

Over last weekend I read this book,



And it really got me thinking. It was one of those neon signs flashing at me, sometimes blinding but if I can just focus showing me a road.

At first I found the book trite and whiny. Blah blah blah so you started to drink as a teenager and drank a lot a couple of times. Thing is, once I got halfway through it some messages really started to resonate with me.

I am a drinker. If I was to define my self in a short paragraph that would definitely be in there. I see myself as a social being, and when I think of personal interaction on a friendly basis I immediately associate it with alcohol.

In the past I have been known to joke about wanting to be a cultured individual but always finding myself in a bar. All I know is that I LIKE the way I feel after I have had a couple of drinks. And after four, I feel like a million bucks, like I can fly and walk on water. But I also feel a deeper thirst at that point. It is the point that I have to stop drinking to avoid a hangover, but it is so hard not to cross the line, I want to so much. Literally after four there is nothing I want more than to keep drinking, and it takes me scraping together what is left of my poor supply of willpower to stop.

Luckily even in excess I retain my sensibilities. I never lose control, and rarely do I drink to the point of memory loss. Somewhere deep inside I have this internal compass keeping myself safe, as being woman in NYC losing my faculties could quickly become life threatening.

This book touched on the reasons that people drink when drinking becomes destructive. Not in an alcoholism sense, but more like stagnating life.

I have friends who don't like themselves, and drink as a form of self abuse. Or the friends who drink to lose themselves because they hate who they are. People who ALWAYS drink too much, go too far. Friends who experience beer tears. Even friends who drank so much they were near death.

When my friends have experienced these things in the past, it was normally discussed in a light hearted anecdotal fashion, brushed off as just one of the regular things about drinking. Ha ha ha. This book - for the first time that I can remember - pointed out that all of these things are a cry for help, and we have been socialized to ignore them.

But we shouldn't. Not that you should confront the person when they are drunk, but stop enabling. If you have a friend who is hurting him or herself, don't let the fact that they have shrouded their pain in alcohol confuse the issue. They still need help.

This book really threw me for a loop, it has had me questioning my motivations for drinking and what happens to me when inebriated. I still haven't gotten a solid picture, but starting the thought process has really illuminated things for me. And more importantly taught me how to be a better friend and human being.

clean

Bwahahahahahaha!!!!

I knew a guy who used to use a straight razor....now that takes balls!

(soooo witty...)

instinct

Today I saw DTH guy for the first time since the break up.

It was rough, but not for the reason you think. It was rough because chemistry was never a problem.

Literally we spent thirty seconds together. All pure professional business. But how do you turn off your libido?

Seriously, just seeing him turned on the same receptors as before. It is like I have to retrain my libido not to ignite when he is around. I guess that makes sense, whenever you stop seeing someone you relearn what touching is appropriate again.

Thing is, I start thinking of maybe a hookup or two, here or there. Then stop. That isn't fair, sending mixed messages and whatnot. If there is anything I have learned over time, it is that no guy can deal with having me in a casual (aka physical) relationship. I realize that sounds weird, but if you know me then you realize why it adds to my constant singledom.

On the bright side, and totally not related to the above rant, I came up with the conclusion to my sister's wedding speech. The speech is NOT ABOUT ME. The whole concept is to celebrate my sister via my voice but not drawing attention to myself. (Thus my challenge? Hello??!!??) I think I've got it. And I am so psyched. :)

Those of you not coming to the wedding but hanging with me (Tuesday the 6th or Wednesday the 7th) you get to hear me practice. I have no places to match those dates yet, so if ya'll have suggestions post now or forever hold your peace. These are my two free nights from wedding responsibilities, so bring on your unanswered questions and random thoughts to post.

I say...

Has anyone noticed besides me that the Superman trailer has the EXACT SAME SOUNDTRACK as Battlestar Gallactica????

I'm just sayin.

believe

In my life I have been on many road trips, and there is one thing I know for true - the majority of these united states are covered with country music. As much money and fanfare that is made around hip hop and/or pop culture, when you are in a car driving, 95% of the time you will only find good ole' american grand ole oprey.

Tonight I was watching the Country Music Awards for a spell. I caught the Brooks & Dunn song "Believe". It was pretty moving. Not so much because the concept of faith in the afterlife is so meaningful to me, but for whatever reason in watching them perform I could envision Everyman USA and his simple faith in heaven.

Immediately I was put in a place sitting next to a cowboy - somewhere but really in the middle of nowhere - noting that deep look of faith in his eyes, like he held a secure inner peace drawing from his confident knowledge. In my mind he nodded at me accepting my lack of faith, and I nodded back accepting his abundance of it. It felt safe and warm.

A song that can bring on a whole daydream like that is quite something. Hells bells, I even got goose bumps.

This nation was founded on religion, the driving need for people to follow their faith. I can see how such a truly american art form as country music could be the best way to communicate just that. Boy these guys nailed it. Heck, I may even buy my parents the CD.

resiliance

Oh, you don't understand what patience is. No no no, you don't.

I have earned my sainthood, holding back as much as I have.

That's right, I have been letting my eyebrows grow in.

***LORD HELP US ALL***

You may scoff, but it has not been easy walking around in public with shedding caterpillars crawling over my eyes. I mean, wearing my bangs long to hide them also obscures my vision! Think of the danger I have been in!

All so I can have them professionally shaped. Man, if they end up looking the same after I shell out some beaucoup bucks I will be pissed. It is not like I need an exercise in discipline, I have a marathon coming up to do that.

discombobulated

My brain is awash in thought. I think all that brainstorming broke it. Either that or opened it back up after being shut down for too long.

Do you ever feel like you walk though life and things keep happening that look like big neon lighted arrows pointing THIS WAY? Over the weekend I think I have seen seven of them. It is like being on sensory overload.

Not that this is a bad thing, I like change, challenge, and development. I just have to figure out how to get where all those arrows are pointing. They don't seem like divergent directions, more like landmarks on a trail.

Oh, how vague and mysterious. I'll get more specific when I nail each arrow down.

no idea

From my Word Origin Calendar, this one is sooooo off the wall I just had to share.

Decoy

Dutch hunters originated the practice of using cages hung over water to attract and trap wild waterfowl. The Dutch words for "the cage" are de kooi, which drifted into English in the 1600s as a single word. Eventually, the usage shifted to refer to a more generalized practice of luring game.

Huh.

Oh, and btw, according to the AP American corporate workers spend an average 25% of their work day on the internet. The UK lady quoting this to me seemed shocked, but me....not so much. ;)

promise

So the big forum thingy is over, and let me tell you it was quite a ride.

Pretty much every minute of every day was planned out for us. We moved from breakfast to meeting to lunch to meeting to orchestrated dinner to sleep. We were assigned a core group and when away from them assigned to other groups to mingle with.

I met the most amazing people from all over the world, and some pretty terrific ones from here in the states. I now have a place to stay in Hong Kong (score!!) and friends to meet for drinks if I hit the UK or France. It really brought me back to high school and college, where I hung out with all the smart kids. It isn't that I don't feel I belong in the class, I just feel like they care a lot more about getting ahead. They work harder and try harder. For me, it is not so much that I want the brass ring as I just enjoy getting good grades.

There was lots of free food, and plenty of free booze. Last night after the dinner event I even dragged a group to my favorite dive, Rudy's, and we stayed out until after 2 am. The hangover was pretty horrific today, but fortunately I was able to keep my lunch down for when Marjorie Scardino sat with my table to go over our innovation. Oh, and then right after when John Makinson had a little catch up session with us Penguin folks. Really, I hope the stench of jagermeister coming out of my pores was not too overwhelming for them.

It probably will take another couple of days for the whole experience to gel for me. Attending something like this really puts you at a point where your head has a tendency to swell. If anything I really don't want to walk away with an over-inflated sense of self importance. So for now I am left not knowing if this was something done to groom me or really to use my knowledge and enthusiasm to squeeze that more much lifeblood out of me.

brainstorm

I am smack dab in the middle of this corporate forum. All they have us do is brainstorm, then filter down, then brainstorm, then filter down....ALL DAY LONG.

When we are not ruthlessly running our brains, we are networking with each other. Seems there are about 100 of us from all over the world, and even though our groups don't work together we need greater connectivity. My boss thinks this thing is exciting and great, I actually dream of going back to work. There you get occasional moments of simple thought.

At least I am getting free meals and booze out of this. That is something. Yay company sponsored alcohol!!

random acts

Watch out for the guerrilla gardeners.

It seems that this group of people in the London area sneak out at night and plant things. They cultivate public areas, for no purpose but civic pride. They even do “seed bombings” as a quick hit when they don’t have time or cover for a main operation.

How cool is that?

And no, I am not interested in starting one here in the city. Albeit I would support them here, I am not quite the green thumb kinda gal.

closer to fine

Growing up I always felt like an outcast.

A tomboy amongst girlie girls, an intellectual in a blue-collar town, an atheist raised by devout Catholics. In high school I hung out with the drama club, the uncool honor students, and the non-catholocists in the all girl catholic high school.

Not so much to be a rebel, as a blind effort to find a place to fit in.

At one point I realized that I might not fit anywhere, that there was no hole to fit my peg. It happened somewhere around the age of 16 when my cousin Steven introduced me to the Indigo Girls.

To be honest, the Indigo Girls saved my life more than once. It is more than their harmony and their musicality; there is something in their songs that speak to me. The most important in my youth was this song:

CLOSER TO FINE

I'm trying to tell you something about my life
maybe give me insight between black and white
and the best thing you've ever done for me
is to help me take my life less seriously
it's only life after all
yeah

well darkness has a hunger that's insatiable
and lightness has a call that's hard to hear
I wrap my fear around me like a blanket
I sailed my ship of safety till I sank it
I'm crawling on your shores

I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountains
there's more than one answer to these questions
pointing me in a crooked line
and the less I seek my source for some definitive
(the less I seek my source)
the closer I am to fine
the closer I am to fine

and I went to see the doctor of philosophy
with a poster of Rasputin and a beard down to his knee
he never did marry or see a b-grade movie
he graded my performance, he said he could see through me
I spent four years prostrate to the higher mind
got my paper and I was free

I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountains
there's more than one answer to these questions
pointing me in a crooked line
the less I seek my source for some definitive
(the less I seek my source)
the closer I am to fine
the closer I am to fine

I stopped by the bar at 3 a.m.
to seek solace in a bottle or possibly a friend
and I woke up with a headache like my head against a board
twice as cloudy as I'd been the night before
and I went in seeking clarity.

I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountains
yeah we go to the doctor, we go to the mountains
we look to the children, we drink from the fountains
yeah we go to the bible, we go through the workout
we read up on revival and we stand up for the lookout
there's more than one answer to these questions
pointing me in a crooked line
the less I seek my source for some definitive
(the less I seek my source)
the closer I am to fine
the closer I am to fine
the closer I am to fine
~Indigo Girls, words and music Emily Saliers

This song has gotten me through more dark parts of my life than any other.

Tonight it came on while DTH guy and I were breaking up, and I started to tear up. Because for whatever reason, I cannot be normal, and I really wanted to be. Not that DTH guy is normal, just that being in a healthy relationship would be.

Here I am, remembering not to question, but accept who I am. And then I will be closer to fine.

wow

I just worked until ten o'clock and then walked home. It has been quite a while since I have worked quite that late. Occasionally I get an eight o'clock-er in here or there, but this makes the night extra special.

Not that I'm complaining. You know if I stayed that late there was something important I was working on, and I was able to finish it. The sense of accomplishment, to me, is worth the overtime. Oh, and the relief that it is done. The sweet, sweet relief.

And now I am home, listening to some sweet tunes on my super duper awesome imac drinking a cool refreshing gimlet.
Ahhhhhhhhhhhh.

pick me up

I came in this morning angry.  Last night I was up past two am imagining all the rants I want to have at various people in my life.  You know, the nemesis, the boss, blah blah blah.  This continued as I commuted to work.  Literally I was one of those people walking the streets of New York talking to myself.  Classic.

 

The frustration was building, you could see the steam coming out of my ears and my boiling point about to top over.

 

Until Ali girl came to see me and tell me her fantabulous news!  (Which if you know her you are just going to have to ask her yourself.)  Needless to say, her news is so wonderful and the enthusiasm so contagious all of the bad mood was alleviated.

 

Now that is some good news!!  Yaaaaay!

booze

For you New Yorkers, if you are looking for a little something to do this Thursday I have a little party for ya. Just promise me you will try some of this or this.

Did I mention open bar? Oh yeah, makes it all worthwhile...

(Don't forget to RSVP, and make sure you say that "Erica the All Powerful" sent you.)

net worth

I'm going to share a little secret with you - I have been broke all of my life.

Okay, not so secret. If you know me this is not new knowledge. I have never traveled outside of the USA or Canada, and the majority of my continental travel was aided by me being a flight attendant for a year. I never owned a new car, and the car I did had often had all kinds of fun "quirks" like having to roll down the window to open the door or a layer of glass missing from the windshield or having to spray lighter fluid on the air filter cold mornings to start the car praying that it didn't back up and start a fire as it was oft to do. (Nothing like beating down an engine fire on a cold Michigan morning to get that blood pumping!!) My furniture still consists of hand me downs and college level quality. My clothes are Old Navy and Gap.

This is no one's fault but my own. Granted, according to that book "Rich Dad, Poor Dad" some of this is learned behavior. But my choosing to move away from home at twenty, change my career every year or so, and put myself through college and pay tuition for NINE YEARS might have something to do with it. The fact that when moving to new York I refused to live in a borough and kept myself in poverty by paying exorbitant rent just perpetuates my continued self-effacement.

I have to admit, I wear my destitution like a badge of honor. When I made my first real career change, leaving General Motors and a potential life of comfort being an engineer, I consciously chose an adventurous life over a well moneyed one. About four years ago when my debt reached a level that put me in panic mode because I had started to get all kinds of collection calls and had put my credit in the toilet. I had just let it get out of control, burying my head in the sand. At that time I got smart.

My time was then spent joining a credit improvement agency, creating a budget, tracking my spending, and really learning where my money had been going in order to figure out what I had to do in order to stop my downward spiral. It was a rough couple of years, but although still in debt at least now I am smart with my money. I pay attention to where it goes, and that is half the battle. For a couple months I didn't go out drinking. I stopped buying breakfast and lunch every day and brown bagged it. I did not clothes shop for a year. Oh, and the big one, I lived and entire two years without ANY credit cards. Only the debt of the closed ones.

After two years I was back in control, and for the most part my credit became good enough once again to be able to rent an apartment on my own in NYC. Which means something.

One side effect of my journey was that I have learned how to pay attention to my investments. Mysteriously at one point I realized I had accumulated some money in my 401k. So I started to monitor it, and actually MANAGE my money. Yes, it helped that I couldn't get my greedy little paws on it to spend a cent.

Today I went online to check the progress of my funds and had a revelation. Due to my careful grooming my little nest egg has accumulated to be more than my current debt.

Yes, that is correct, today my net worth is not in the red. I am no longer worth negative money!! Okay, turns out it has been that way for a couple months, but I didn't realize it until today. Heck, I am proud of myself.

Not to get carried away here - after all my goal is to eradicate my debt so that I can completely change my career and take a huge pay cut. But the smart way this time, by living within my means and even continuing to increase my savings. I don't have to be poor; it just took me a while to figure that out.

tumult

How appropriate, that this is what came up on my word origin calendar.

Tumult

In Latin, the verb tumere means "to swell." From this came the noun tumultus, meaning "a disturbance." In another form, it was tumultarius, a term applied to a troop of soldiers raised in a hurry.

Okay, so that is kind of a boring origin. This week has for me has been quite tumultuous regardless. One of those Murphy's Laws kind of weeks, everything just seemed to go wrong. It cultivated yesterday when I had to fire someone.

Letting an employee go seems to me like a milder form of divorce. At first you meet, feel each other out. Then you make a promise of commitment, and spend time growing in your new relationship. Over time you have your learning curve, bumps in the road, an occasional wrong turn. But if it is meant to be, you grow together and something good is created.

Then as it ends, there is a sense of denial. Maybe if you try a little harder, maybe you are asking too much of the other person. It seemed to work before, what could have changed?

Something big then happens, and there has to be a split. Even though it is the best thing to do, it is stressful and you cannot help but feel that somehow you are to blame, that it is your fault. You know that you both will be better off apart, that the status quo is actually at this point detrimental to both parties.

That is the thing that always amazes me, that besides having to deal with the end of something you have to deal with the guilt of what happens to the other person.

And the sense that you failed. You mistrust yourself because you picked the wrong person. How can you do better the next time? How do you learn to trust yourself again?

Thank god for Cinco de Mayo and all the sweet, sweet tequila that flows therewithal.

compounding

Let me expound upon why I have a new nemesis. It is not only because she talks smack behind my back.

All the back-stabbing put aside, it is that additional flavor of two-facedness that drives me batty. You know she had the nerve today to try and "chat" me up? You know, asking personal questions, interjecting what in her mind is witty banter.

Dude, it is bad enough you don't have the courtesy to confront me to the face with items you deem as flawed in my work realm, but then trying to act like my best friend and cozy up to me?

Pure, unadulterated evil.

I was up for an extra hour last night thinking of ways I could get her fired. Then I realized how silly that was, I should just leave instead. Let her clean up her own mess, I say!

Gotta work on my resume...

grrrrrr

I have a new nemesis at work. There is nothing like having someone who should be on your team talk about you behind your back.

Oh, what can I do to foil her evil plans? What superpower do I already possess?

For this I have no bright side. Take that!!

more fun with links

I think the searches that lead to my site are getting even better:

spitting at work

falling rockstar

bliss personal lubricant

la vie boehm

downside of alloderm for hernia repair

calories burnt in female orgasm

saggy masochist

best part, the spitting one got me the most hits.

rock

on

superhero power

If I could choose any superhero power I would choose beauty. This is a brand-new power, so bear with me.

It is not that I think I am unattractive. I am cute. And it works for me. I am unthreatening. I entertain, I blend. Occasionally I can cause a giggle.

Beauty, like any superpower, can be dangerous. As Ani Difranco says "everyone harbors a secret hatred for the prettiest girl l in the room."

Too much of anything makes people uncomfortable, or suspicious. Power also intimidates. In any form.

On the other hand, all human beings, of any culture, trust attractive people more. The more attractive you are, the more honest and loyal you are assumed to be.

This is why beauty as a superpower is brilliant. Most of the time, through everyday life, you are a normal person drawing no extra attention and causing no controversy. Your alter ego, secret identity.

But in those moments when you really need it:

When pulled over for a traffic ticket

If ID'd for a club when you forgot your license

Those last minutes during the closing of a sale

At the closing of a job interview

You pull out your superpower and BAM!!! It was the edge you needed.

Now, just like when you are given the opportunity to choose any superpower - as we normal people are given the choice in that it is all theoretical - would you use your powers for good?

Of course!!!! Collecting money for charity, helping other people feel more attractive by proxy...oh, and the phenomenal masturbation fantasies I would provide!!

I just ask when this new superhero is created she is called Rockstar. Okay, and a 2% royalty. Unless I write my own graphic novel...

Anyone know any cool female graphic artists? Hmmmmmm

paranoia

I was in Ali Girl's office earlier today, talking about personal gossip, kind of quietly as to not advertise my juicy stuff to the world. But not in an overtly conspicuous or secretive manner, as I really have no secrets.

As I was leaving her office, a coworker was walking by. And then stopped quite suddenly, inquiring:

"Were you guys talking about me?"

Immediately I broke out into guffaws of laughter, as did Ali Girl. Our coworker looked kind of surprised and confused, so I patted her arm (note inappropriate at-work touching) while still laughing saying "No! No, talking about you? No no no no..." I even continued to chuckle as I walked away.

Thinking back on this, I have been laughing all day. It isn't just the paranoia of the situation; it is the ego-centrism of it all. She is nice enough whatnot, but on my list of people or things to talk about, she rates near the bottom.

I find it hysterical too the audacity to stop and ask like that. Really, you shed yourself in such a negative light doing something that, well, desperate. This girl always seemed to me to have more poise.

Ironic that I am talking about her now though, eh? Is that even karma?

reflections

When you start dating someone, you spend less time watching tv. And blogging.

Seems you keep busy doing other things. *cough cough*

Just sayin.

Guess you all will be able to monitor the level of my sex life by my blog activity, eh? Just 'cause you all wanted to know.

work it

I know it is going to be a good day when I plug in my ipod to the speakers at work, hit the random song function...

And the Copa Cabana plays.

Awwww Yeah!

This has been a crazy hectic week. I have had to work ten times harder than I have in a very long time. We are talking everyone needing something from me, helter skelter cries for help, and me having to roll up my sleeves and go shoulder deep into the belly of the beast to help them all.

It has been great.

(Well, except for that one night I got really pissed off. But I'm over that now.

Every night I have worked late, some nights past nine. Call me crazy, but I like being busy, and I really like feeling necessary. Becoming management had taken a lot of that away from me. It is so much easier to feel accomplished when you create a report or a system then grooming an employee.

Oh, right, I guess that's why I get paid more money. Gotcha.

sense of direction

I'm totally biting this off of Bacon, but it is way too awesome to ignore.

calendar

From today's word origin calendar:

Working Stiff

If you feel that your job is bad for your health, you may have a real reason to use this phrase. It originated from an old slang use for the word "stiff," meaning "corpse."

I always wondered what it was like to be one of the walking dead. Seems I have known all along...

whew!!

The surgery went fine, and my sister is going to be okay. It took just under five hours and the tumor was about the size of a peanut.

Tomorrow they will do another cat scan to make sure the brain and whatnot collapse back into the space accordingly, but the doctors believe that all is well.

Now I can go back to planning the bachelorette party. Oh, the bachelorette party.

And my speech for the wedding. Yes, it will rock.

Hooray!!

saga continues

Thank you all for your well wishes and good thoughts!!

So far Katie is okay. The doctor opened her head, took one look, and closed her right back up.

Seems she had some pretty major looking blood vessels where they shouldn't be, and they were all around the tumor. The doctor did not want to risk going in "blind" and my sister potentially bleeding out.

I appreciate that.

What happens next is that they have to perform an angiogram, a very invasive procedure to determine the blood vessel mapping in her brain so they can plan a course of action.

Once they know where everything is and what to avoid, they will go back in to take out the tumor - most likely Monday. Poor thing has to stay in the hospital over the weekend, and then she will be in the ICU for at least three days during her recovery.

Sucks.

sisters part two

Through self imposed trials and tribulations, my sister and I remained close.

We survived my immediate family. Then discovered our extetended. We traveled together. And still liked each other. We lived in sin. (With boys, not each other you dirty bastards.) And were forgiven by the religious family.

Now you all know I have had health problems. Long and extended ones.

My sister's were shorter but way more intense.

One month after my second surgery, where the foot of my intestine was removed, my sister was admitted to the very hospital where I had been chopped to pieces. For her the symptoms were nausea and headaches.

When she was unconscious for 24 hours we got worried. My loud voice could not wake her. That is shocking, c'mon.

Turns out she had a brain tumor. At 17. It was benign, but the process was still long and hard for her. As much as I have gone through over many years, she experienced the more intense version - all before being legal.

I will not lie. When I first learned that my sister had a brain tumor I freaked the fuck out. I went on laughing and then crying jags from one minute to the next. I was hysterical.

Until I decided that I could not believe that she would not get better. I call it conscious denial. You refuse to think of the worse.

She got better. I won. Again

This past Monday I got an email from my sister:

call me later
they are going to cut my head open again on friday :)"\

Wha.....what....WHAT????

So not funny.

Wasn't meant to be.

My mom's email, two hours later, went more like this:

This morning Katie got the results of the MRI she had yesterday. She has been having really bad headaches the last few months. Her brain tumor is back. It is the same type (Hemangeoblastoma)and in the same place (behind her left ear) as last time. The good news is that it is benign and not too hard to get at. It is fluid filled cyst. The Surgeon, and Katie both would like it out as soon as possible. She is going to have surgery Friday morning, 4/14/06, at the University of Michigan Hospital in Ann Arbor. We don't know the exact time yet, they will have to bump someone to get an Operating Room. We are going to see the Surgeon for a pre-op appointment tomorrow morning. So, please keep her in your prayers. We hope for as good an outcome as we had 14 years ago.
Love,
Mom



Katie is having brain surgury Friday morning. My baby sister. the kindest most forgiving person I know, has to go through this less than two months before her wedding day.

If I could take all the pain, suffer as much as humanly possible to take this away from her I would. But I have no choice in the matter. My sister has a tumor the size of a golf ball in the lower left part of her brain, and she has to have brain surgery for the second time in her very short thirty years of life.

I believe in positive visualization. All of you reading this have to imagine me, right now, dancing at her wedding. Giving my speech, congratulating her and her new husband for their new lives promised to each other. Me telling my stories of how I tortured her in her youth but cared for her at the same time. Please, only image the good things I speak of, and I believe the best scenario will come true.

If you imagine rain, it will pour. Please, believe in the sun.

Your positive thoughts make the difference. This whole week for me has been about her. If you know the devil, introduce me to him so I can sell him my soul. Not much left to give, but it is worth a try.

At the very least, imagine Katie mocking me for the rest of my live for being such a sentimental, sappy, and emotional bastard. I can take the torture, it is worth the price.

sisters

I can remember when my mother was pregnant with my sister. Specifically because my brother wanted a brother and I wanted a sister. It became a competition.

And I won.

Growing up I tortured my siblings ruthlessly. I would provoke my brother until he got so angry he turned beet red and shook. My sister is four years younger, and her trials by my hand were way way worse.

There was the time I used to get her to do my bidding by threatening to tie her down, blindfold her, gag her, and play the intro to Thriller. You know, the Vincent Price monologue with the spooky sound effects. Then she told on me and I got into trouble. So I explained her that if she ever told on me for threatening her again I would shave her head bald in her sleep.

When babysitting, the abuse was worse. Sis was afraid of the dark, and I would follow her around the house turning off every light as soon as she would turn it on. While my brother followed around saying "Stop, you shouldn't do that." He wasn't very convincing.

Thing is, these were just control games. As much as I made my sister's life miserable, I did so much to try to make her happy. Like the times when I would decide to make her laugh so hard she couldn't stop. Or how I taught her not to be afraid of the dark, by sitting by the night-light and turning it off for 30 seconds at a time to get her used to it. Or when she couldn't sleep telling her to concentrate on the sound of my breathing, to know she was safe. Or when I told her the reason that her myriad of stuffed animals would be on the floor when she woke up was because while she was asleep they were having a super duper party dancing and whatnot, but when she woke up they had to stop wherever they stood. (Yes, this was YEARS before Toy Story, dammit!!)

My sister and I have remained close throughout our lives, and she means more to me than anyone in the world. It just isn't because she is a better, kinder person than myself. But because she knows me better than anyone else in the world and she still loves me. That means a lot.

you're welcome

If you are going to see any movie in the next couple of weeks, see this one. The BF and I saw it the other day, it is the best thing I have seen in quite a few months.

(Yes I did say BF, which stands for boyfriend. It is official, and teetering on stage three. Tis a whole 'nother post.)

If you don't believe me, then at least believe my favorite critic.

This movie was smart. Funny. Endearing. Scathing. Kind. Heartfelt. And just darn cool. DO NOT MISS IT!!!!

get real

Change is inevitable. The only thing you can count on. Besides death and taxes.

Why should you care deeply about anything if it only will go away? Is the joy worth the loss?

Is a life of mediocrity better because the end of mediocrity is easier to endure than the end of something great? Is it the question of how high you can go or what depth you can take?

run obsessed

Today I ran another race, the Thomas G Labrecque 4 mile. The weather was nice, a sunny 41 degrees. But the crowd. Oh, the crowd.

There were 5,368 runners in today's race. That means it took me six minutes just to get to the start line alone. Which I can handle, that is no biggie. What blew me away is how much the crowds affected my race.

First of all I was going for another personal best in this race. I wanted to beat my 9:51 per mile average that I got a couple of weeks ago. Out of the gate there were a lot of slow people in front of me, and I didn't try to pass too aggressively. Until I finished the first mile in twelve minutes. TWELVE MINUTES!!??!! That kicked my passing mode into high gear.

Secondly, I didn't realize this until literally half way through; I never got a chance to appreciate the scenery. Normally when I run a race I make a conscious effort to look around, appreciate central park in its full nature filled glory. Especially now while in spring when trees and flowers are in bloom, it is a fabulous sight. Thing is I could not take the time as I was too busy trying to navigate my way around the other runners.

I don't know if these problems were really because of the quantity of runners or the quality. When you get in line before the start, there are markers for you to line up against based on your expected run speed. This way passing is minimized. It seems that in this race there was a large number of people who just lined up as close to the start as they could with no regard to their run time. Bastards.

In spite of this all, the race was still awesome. I kicked it into high gear and finished with yet another personal best, averaging a 9:33 minute mile. All I have to do is keep or improve upon that time for my 10K in May and I am on my way to my goal marathon time!

dichotomy

A few years ago I read The Unbearable Lightness of Being. To save my life I could not tell you about any of the characters or even what the plot was, but something did stick. The idea of weight and freedom as a really great analogy.

There are people in life who prefer to have sex while being on the bottom. Symbolically this can represent having a weight on them, but more than in a literal meaning. This weight holds you down, keeps you stable. Or if you look at it another way it can stifle you, keep you from full range of motion.

Then there are the people who like to be on top. There is nothing keeping them anywhere for any amount of time, they can get up and go at a whim. This allows pure freedom, no strings attached. But then what keeps you from floating away, without any direction?

In my mind it seems like this analogy is improved upon by thinking of your life in a hot air balloon.

I have been weightless for a long time. Everything is done on whim, fancy. It has been simple to be this way, as I am a very spontaneous person. Also, I am kind of different in that I am very rarely lonely. Really this explains why I have been single for so long. Not being afraid of floating, not missing an anchor.

This does not mean I don't like the weight, just that I never looked for it.

Recently I have been caught on something, and it has been nice. Familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time. One could argue that it is not natural to have nothing holding you down. Every balloon has to land once and a while.

On one hand it feels safe and secure to be grounded. On the other the tugging of the rope feels new, and sometimes raw.

I don't remember the exact moment with the Detroit ex when the anchor was attached, but I remember in crystal clear detail when it was cut. With that pain I made sure to bring up all lose ends to make sure I didn't catch on anything by accident. Now starting something again hits some of that sense memory. It is so much harder this time around to get used to an anchor again.

It is ironic that the actual act of letting go of being in control, of truly being free, seems to involve being held down.

spread the love

I have been working on a couple of posts, but have been having a hard time getting them just right. In the meantime, enjoy the discount:

"As Spring is in the air, we are once again offering friends and family a code to use to receive 15% off their total order placed now through May 15, 2006.

Simply visit penguin online and shop many of the best books for adults and children. When checking out, enter promotional code friend4 to receive 15% off your total.

Please PASS THIS CODE ALONG to your friends and family so they can enjoy these special savings."

Yay cheap books!

copy cat

To steal one from RFW, I just went to the lady doctor and when she started asking what kind of STD testing I wanted done...

 

"We tested for HPV and Chlamydia, were you interested in a HIV test as well?"

 

"Uuuuuum, yeah, that is probably a good idea."

 

"Okay that is fine.  What about Syphilis and Hepatitis?  We normally don't check for those..."

 

I look at her for a moment, sigh in resignation and reply, "Just supersize me."

 

Luckily she found that funny.  Thank goodness for realistic doctors!

too early

I hate daylight savings time. 

 

Yes, I know that the extra hour of daylight is nice.  Yes, I know that it is a welcome symbol of outdoor summer fun to come.  It is just that the adjustment to my poor sad sleep schedule is murder.  Being a night person staying awake that extra hour seems practically impossible to resist, but goddamn that alarm goes off  way way too early.

 

What do I need daylight for?  This pasty Irish skin is made for Guinness by moonlight.

condundrum

People like to tell me that my brother's second eldest daughter is "just like me".

They tell me this because at all family gatherings, most of the time she just kind of wanders around of her own volition, following any and every urge. This would be in opposition to accepting attention from any of the many adoring family members or deciding to play with anyone else. Basically they see her, at her very young age, of being very independent minded - thus taking after her aunt rockstar.

Really my sense of liberty always came naturally. Like breathing. Or drinking alcohol.

I can remember being in junior high refusing to let my parents drive me the mile to any of my softball practices - why have them do that when I could get there by my own steam on bike? Not to mention, I didn't have to worry about any one waiting for me or me waiting for anyone else.

When at seventeen I had my appendix out I remember shoo-ing my mom home from the hospital - why sit around in an uncomfortable chair when all I was going to do was sleep and watch TV? I was fine, nurses were all around! To my mother I insisted, "Really, there is no need for you to stay - go home!"

Even as a small child, I remember my mom offering to walk me to my first day of kindergarten and me thinking - why? I know how to get there, what is the point? (Admittedly I did end up crying that first day, but only because everyone else did and for some reason at that age crying is contagious.)

In high school I wore my independence as a drama club member badge of honor. Being one of the freaks and geeks was fine by me. It wasn't until college that I began to realize how loud the beat of my different drum is. How hard it is to ignore, and even more importantly, how much I want to follow it.

What strikes me as funny is that where in my youth this was beneficial, as I get older it becomes more disadvantageous. At some point I transitioned to being fiercely independent to being prideful. And too much pride is a bad thing, as we all know.

How really are independence and pride different?

Independence is defined as "Free from the influence, guidance, or control of another or others; self-reliant"

Pride is defined as "A sense of one's own proper dignity or value"

I ask you, how can you be true to yourself without valuing your own sense of direction the most?

As with everything in life, I suppose the key is that anything can be bad for you in excess. It may not be so much that the sense of free will is diminished, but that you are willing to listen to and be influenced by someone else's drum. That by letting someone walk you to your first day of kindergarten you are not losing independence, you are allowing someone else listen to your beat.

Just so you know, mine sounds kind of like ska.

stage two

The second step in modern day courting rituals for Rockstar.

I have been ruminating quite a bit about what all these stages are, and polling many of my friends. DTH guy and I are still canoodling after a month, and we have gone on more than three dates. (Dates defined as making a plan and doing something together, not falling into bed after happening to be at the same bar for an event.)

We have also moved into a comfortable assumption of time being spent together - that we will see each other again within five days kind of thing.

This puts us to stage two. "Seeing Each Other."

Although several people know his secret identity (he is part of one of the bar distros I am on, therefore was not a stranger at time of initial hook-up) we have still been keeping our interaction on the down-lo. As we are assuming that we will continue for the foreseeable future, we are being less stealthy. Not trying so hard to hide what we are doing.

Not that I ever really am good at hiding much of anything. I tend to share my life in minutia with anyone who will listen. Oops.

detox day six

Lord, do I miss my caffeine.  Did you all know I love coffee?  Oh god I miss the stuff.  I could write a sonnet.  Or a symphony.  Or a soliloquy...

 

Day one of the detox I was in a fog.  Swear to god my brain was underwater with sand in the gears.  I felt rather as if I was extremely hungover - like all sounds and visuals came in through their respective channels and bounced right back out.  My own personal brain force field, lucky me.

 

Second day, worst caffeine withdrawals of my life.  I have quit the fabulous legal stimulant many times over, never have I experienced pain like this before.  My head throbbed, sound and light drove me mad.  I acquiesced and took some Tylenol, which only LIGHTENED the pain. 

 

Saturday and Sunday, blech, who needs caffeine when you can sleep?

 

Yesterday and today, days five and six respectively, have illuminated to a fine point my love for the drug.  It is not necessarily that I am sleepy, it is that my brain just works better on speed.

 

While in college for psychology, I recall being taught how it was that hyperactive children were able to be made calm by Ritalin, a stimulant.  Basically everyone's brain has a certain premium activity level.  If your brain by nature runs a little sluggishly, action must be taken to speed it up to the appropriate range, be it physical or pharmaceutical.  It seems I fall into that group.

 

Wait, did I just admit I was slow?

 

Anyhoo, working on a project this morning I could sense how close I was to premium working capacity, and could feel in every fiber of my being that if I just took a little sip of coffee my focus would be refined and my thoughts crystal clear.  Oh, the temptation, to enter back into the world of the synapse superhighway rather than the lowly unpaved dirt road that is my natural mind.

 

Oh, the willpower, are you all impressed?  If my tummy acts up during marathon training after all that I am doing for it I'm going to be one pissed off chick.

secret garden

There is a magical mysterious hidden place in New York City, and it is the High Line.

The High Line is a long closed above ground rail system in Manhattan. It has been closed off to all public access for years, and thus has become overgrown and wild. And intriguingly cool.

While walking the city, all you see from below are rusted girders and chipped cememt. It looks like industrial waste. But from above? Paradise. A secret garden.

Ever since I have heard about this place my imagination and heart have been captured, my interest piqued. And now they are going to renovate to make it into a public park! I am so stoked!

personal space

Lately I have been having this problem. I have been acting out strangely, and even though I catch myself doing it, sadly I realize too late after the fact. Once done, I immediately ask myself "Why, why, why???"

I have become a toucher.

For example, I will be in a meeting, and at some point I will have made a joke or engaged in a side comment to the person next to me, and then I reach out and touch their arm. Worse, often I touch it again ten or fifteen minutes later! Doesn't even matter who the person is, they could work with me, work in another department, or even be a vendor. It could be the most closed off, isolated, robotic person I know, and here I am invading their personal space.

What the hell am I doing???

This behavior has even extended outside of the boardroom. We are talking any time, anywhere. Elevator, bar, checkout line in the cafeteria, chance conversation on the subway platform, doesn't matter. A shoulder, the back, a tie, I see myself doing it like an out of body experience, all the time thinking "stop now! Don’t do it! No touching, leave them alone!!"

It worries me that I am creeping people out by doing this, but somehow it has become natural to me. I just don't want to be that freaky girl - the one who makes people uncomfortable by acting too familiar.

I wonder if this is some kind of mental backlash from working in a corporate environment too long. Argh, corporate life. They take away my sneakers and I become a social freak. Rock on.

on the wagon

My insides have been rumbling a tiny bit, so in the spirit of prevention I am back on the detox. Liquid diet for ten to fourteen days. Oh yeah.

One would think the fear of hunger would give me pause, or even the abstinence from caffeine, but no. No, my real apprehension lies with upcoming bar nights.

Next week there lie not one or two, but THREE birthday celebrations. It is sad, but I really have grown to rely on alcohol as my social lubricant. Why is it I believe I’m funnier, smarter, and more suave after I imbibe a cocktail or two? It is not as if most of my life isn’t spent sober (really, it is) and I’m just as witty.

So this of all things will be my big challenge for this fast. The small one will be getting my brain back, as the lack of caffeine is officially making me stoopid. My poor brain is sluggish with no signs of kicking into action any time soon.

snacking hell

I'm still haven't finished the damn things, here almost a week later. I have worked out a way to consume the bastards without having to spit, as spitting at work is not the best way to make friends and impress others. Sadly this method converts to approximately one seed per minute.

Yes, it was a big bag. Shoot me, it was 99 cents.

So sad

Last night when I got home I had a voicemail from apple, they had some questions about my application.  The second interview had gone off smashingly, if not strangely.  It was a group interview, myself and five other candidates, and we answered a few questions, had some discussion, and had a presentation to give.  At the end of the interview we were told that we would be contacted in seven to ten days with our job offers.

 

Whoa.  I was skeptical, how can they place me after just that?  But then the phone call.

 

It seems my initial doubts are true, I am overqualified.  In order to work at the store I would have to take a pay cut of over twenty grand.  I was willing to go down ten, that is how much I love the damn company.  Right now to go down that much would spell bankruptcy.  My recruiter was sad, I was sad, both of us expressed remorse at my inability to make the leap. 

 

I mentioned that in six months I will be debt free and revisit the jump, and she promised to keep me active in her mind especially if a new area opens up that I could fill that still meets my needs.

 

So sad I can't go to apple now, but my foot is in the door.  Someday I'll get past the threshold, goddammit!!

trends

Okay, so I think that a pattern has surfaced in what is bringing web traffic to my site:

straight men locker room sex
quadruple amputee wwi basket case
pictures of ejaculation fluids
men in locker room
straight men locker room shower

I don't think that my target audience is being hit here...

pure joy

A new cult classic is on the way. My god, these people are funny. Could this be better than Old School? TBD.

And here we have my next guilty pleasure. One look at the trailer, and I was hooked. I'm so stoked I'm almost ashamed of myself.

ugh

Lots of beer and maybe a couple of shots. Oh, the hangover. Obviously, as I am posting before eight am. A fabulous time was had, I even did a shot at lunch with my boss! Nothing speaks to corporate unity like drinking together.

Must get back to bed, I brought someone home with me. DTH guy showed up at my bar of choice, for that I had to reward him with a sleepover! All my friends thought it was sweet. Tonight I get to hang with Seattle Girl, who is in town. YAAAAAAAAY!!!

erin go bragh

You know, I didn't always like beer.

*Stunned silence*

That's right, when I started drinking at the ripe old age of 16 I was hardcore into the Sun Country Coolers. You know, the orange flavor that came in the two liter. (If you are too young to know of this marvel, so sad for you damn whippersnapper.)

Eventually I graduated from the coolers to rum and cokes to vodka and kool aid to tequila sunrises to jack and coke to southern comfort and mountain dew. Note the constant combination of sugar to my alcohol. Quite important to give sugar to an overly energetic teen while drunk.

It was such a relief to turn 21. All of my friends were older, they had been allowed to purchase alcohol and even gain entry to bars while I was a sad sad underage girl left to my own devices and their mercies.

A mere month after I turned 21 I geared up for my first legal St Paddy’s day, and decided that not only would I hit a REAL Irish bar (the Old Shillelagh for those familiar with Detroit), but by god I WOULD DRINK BEER. And drink beer I did. I started off with Harp, and eventually even started to drink of the mother's milk Guinness. I started to enjoy it. Problem was, I did not take the necessary time to acclimate to this new delivery system of alcohol to my blood, and may have consumed a drink or two more quickly than I should have.

Thus my first ever blackout. Oh, the nostalgia. I don't remember getting home, hell I don't remember throwing up. My sister and mom made sure to inform me of such actions. You know, because they care.

Since that faithful day, I have always loved beer. I try not to black out every time I drink it though. Sometimes I fail, but that is no fun because if I forget everything than what do I have to blog about?

May your St Paddy’s day be joyous, and as my 100% Irish father would tell you, may your best day of last year be the worst of the next.

Even better, one of my favorite toasts:

In life, there are only two things to worry about, if you are well or if you are sick.
If you are well, you have nothing to worry about.
If you are sick, you only have two things to worry about, if you live or if you die.
If you live, you have nothing to worry about.
If you die, you only have two things to worry about, if you go to heaven or if you go to hell.
If you go to heaven, you have nothing to worry about.
If you go to hell, it won’t matter – you’ll be too busy shaking the hands of all your friends to care!!

Cheers!

seriously

I just did algebra as part of my job. I'm not kidding. I could not figure out how to get a number, so I made up variables and did the damn thing. Note the proof:

If

N = G * (A/B)

then

N/G = A/B

1/G = (A/B) * (1/N)

and finally

G = (A/B) * N

Awww yeah, I am that urban legend.

calling all michiganders

Okay, here is the deal.  As I am the maid of honor and the only bridesmaid in my sister's wedding, it is my esteemed duty to throw the bachelorette party.

 

There is no truth to the rumor that really I am organizing because I am such a drinker and socializer.  Nope, no way.

 

Anyhoo, my sis has laid down a few ground rules. 

 

1)  No strippers

2)  Someplace equidistant from Ann Arbor/Tecumseh and Roseville/Warren.  (sis suggested Novi)

3)  No people taking off their clothes for money

4)  A locale in which we can reserve an area and activities are to be had.  (sis suggested Gameworks)

5)  No pizza or police men allowed who are feeling constricted by their apparel

6)  Alcohol should be served

7)  No hanging around people who have a longing for money being stuffed in their underwear

 

Now I call on you, my friends still in the wonderful mitten state, for some input and advice.  My sister does not play video games, and never did.  There HAS to be a fun place or two around Novi that focuses on something more down her alley?  We are not talking my alley, all I need is a lot of beer and a drunk corner to pass out in, thus my needs are easily served.  And this is her day.  Or at least the one before that day where she wears white and makes some kind of promise to some guy about sickness and jewelry.

 

Are there any dueling piano bars in the area, or any other fun adult type things?  Also, any hotel or limo/car service recommendations, specifically places you personally know are good?  I can search on the web like a mutha, but if ya'll have experienced some professional bliss I'd love to hear the good word.  (Or if you know places to avoid that is good info too!)  My sister said a hotel was not necessary, but I'd like to spring for a room or two to help relax the pressures of the evil word TOLERANCE that could incur from having to drive an hour home as certain parties may be prone to do.  That word is not needed at a bachelorette party thrown by me.

 

I mean at any bachelorette party for my sister.  Not about me, not about me...

 

Of course, any information will be accordingly rewarded with time and drinks spent with me during the long week before the wedding of which I will be in town, and most likely will also result an invite to the actual non-stripper night itself.  Cause that's how I roll.

 

Oh, and do you guys know any good stripper agencies?  Just kidding!!!  (Or not...)

by accident

I bought sunflower seeds with the shell on.  How the hell do you eat the damn things???

personal best

This is a training update, so I must warn that you are about to be inundated with all kinds of numbers and running lingo. Well, at least one or two.

Today I ran a four-mile race in central park and had my best time ever, a 9:51 minute mile, net time for the race 39:25! It was 50 degrees, and raining. The park was still dead and cold from the winter, trees barren of life. None of that mattered, running felt natural and fluid, I was in the zone from beginning to end.

This time means more to me than a notch on a board, it says to me that I can finish the marathon in my goal of four and half hours or less. Honestly, my times have been so mediocre that I have had doubts. I still have to shave off a couple more minutes (I have to run a 10K with an average 9:35 mile) by July 3rd when my training regimen begins, but now I have that little piece of me that knows I can. For gods’ sake, how much faster alone when I knock of these last fifteen pounds? Like lightning, I tell ya.

canoodling

I know you all are dying to hear how the dinner went last week.

Well I decided to go the trust my instincts, no recipe needed route. DTH guy is a self-proclaimed meat and potatoes guy, so I did meat and potatoes. I picked up the groceries, and made the following:

Cheese platter of gouda and parmesan romano
Antipasti of mixed olives
New york strip steaks with parmesan crust
Twice baked truffled mashed potatoes
Asparagus sautéed in ginger soy sauce
Finished with local bakery bought nut free brownies

Went off like a charm. He brought wine and flowers, so thoughtful and sweet. And the evening was perfect.

We talked, we laughed, and laughed some more. The conversation was delightful and flowing, no rough or awkward spots.

While grocery shopping I had a realization about why I had offered to make dinner, and later on I discussed with DTH guy. On our first date the previous Thursday, while picking up the check he had explained that he believed strongly in always paying the bill. It is more than just a traditional patriarchal ritual and more of the concept of treating me for the honor of my presence. Still sounds vaguely like prostitution, but I'll believe that's not the point.

Now, I happen to be a fiercely independent person, and have a very time asking for or even receiving anything. Someone buys me a drink at a bar; I buy them a drink and a shot. I just abhor the idea of being indebted to someone.

Knowing that any place we go he would pick up the check, how could I balance the scale? Cook dinner.

Yes, I have issues.

Upon realizing this, I came to terms with the idea that I will just have to learn to sit back and take it like a man. Pun intended. Since Saturday we went out two more times, and he came over last night after the Pisces bday party and spent the day with me today. In other words, things are going well. The more time we spend together, the more fun I am having with him, which is nice. We are officially to the canoodling stage of a relationship, in the rockstar dictionary. Soon I will post all the stages, just so ya'll can follow along accordingly.

And yes, he reads my blog. Keeps me honest.

One step closer!!

Just got this email:

To: bridget.rockstar@gmail.com
Subject: Apple

Hi Bridget!

Thank you for attending our interview seminars earlier in the week!
At this time we would like to invite you back for a second smaller group interview.

The interview will be taking place at the ******* building, and according to the availability that you gave us on your survey, we'll see you on Wednesday, 3/15 at 5:00pm.

We look forward to speaking with you again!!

Regards,

Andrea

Woo hoo!  Game on!

natural woman

Do you have something in your life that everyone wants but you just don’t care about? Maybe everyone loves Desperate Housewives and you just don’t have any interest, the world is insanely in love with KanYe but his music bores you, your whole family craves vanilla and you are perfectly happy living with just chocolate?

I was a tomboy growing up. When I was young my lack of femininity caused me insecurity and doubt in myself. It wasn’t until I got older that I learned that I not only am okay the way I am, I am pretty darn terrific. (I’m good enough, smart enough, and gosh darn it, people like me…)

Eventually I learned the skills and bought the products (oh, the products) to become girlie. Or at least cute. I learned how to walk in heels, became comfortable in stockings, even occasionally wear jewelry. But by nature the most definitive instinct that supposedly exists for a female is still lacking. I am lacking a maternal instinct.

You know how someone comes into a room with a newborn and all the women start cooing at the baby and touching the baby and want to hold the baby…yeah no. I don’t love the baby smell, I don’t sense a longing for a child of my own, I do not wonder at the miracle of birth.

When I was in my late teens and early twenties and people would ask about kids I would always say “I don’t want children. I’M NOT SAYING I WON’T CHANGE MY MIND… I’m saying I have never wanted any and have a feeling I never will. AND I KNOW NEVER TO SAY NEVER.”

I had to 1) add in the defensive bit and 2) to yell because they inevitably would say, quite condescendingly “Oh, you’ll change your mind.” They just never could believe I could know myself well enough to make that kind of a statement.

Lordy, I always hated that.

Now that I am in my thirties my lack of desire to have children is easier to discuss in the open. Occasionally people still misinterpret my disinterest as a loss of hope in ever being in the right situation by the time the ole’ biological clock runs out. These days the doubters are much less common. Possibly because as I have gotten older I have so much going on and my life is so full. Maybe too my situation is a little more readily accepted because of prominent women figures that are admired despite their childlessness. (Gloria Steinem, Oprah…)

Who knows. All I can say is I never understood the allure of vanilla, but sure do love my chocolate. And I am so glad to be alive in a day and age where I am not burned at a stake or stoned to death for my “unnatural” views.

Oh, was that a bright side? Doh.

endurance

This morning, upon retrospect, I realized I have had drinks every night for a week.  Exciting life, diseased liver.

 

overwhelmed

The Apple job seminar was so exciting I almost cried. I would not be surprised if the entire time there was smoke coming out of my ears. The company is just so awesome, to work for them really would be a dream come true.

I asked some questions, some that were too sensitive to answer to the general public, which makes me nervous. Overall I think that they will call me for the next step, the small group interview. It looks like I really am overqualified for most of the positions they are hiring for, which just breaks my heart. It would be like seeing into heaven and then slamming the gates in my face.

Hope springs eternal.

Off I go to post-funeral lunch/wake/drinkfest to admit that I am not as strong tolerance-wise as boasted last night. Humility rocks.

hypothetical question

So if following a viewing for a dear departed irish loved one you were surrounded by seven strapping male second cousins and you yourself were the only female gender present, and - shot in hand - say you were to yell

"bring it on tommorow biyatches, I'll kick all your sorry asses!!!!"

Referring to drinks at the wake the next day, would you worry?

Aunt Margaret

The first time I ever came to New York was approximately 12 years ago when I was a grand age of 22 or so.  Three of my friends and two of my cousins decided to make the trip with me to celebrate new years eve in times square.  When I had initially mentioned my plans to my dad, he voiced that there was no need to find a hotel in the big apple, we had family to stay with.  Family which I had not seen since I was eight. 

 

At first I was wary, how do you call up people who are complete strangers and ask to stay for a few days with five people in tow?  I mean, they are family, but they are my dad's cousins...how removed is that?

 

Then my dad said the magic words:  "They are just like Aunt Pat, they love company."  My Aunt Pat LOVES entertaining, and with that I made the fated call. 

 

My god were these people excited to hear I was coming out.  Seems my dad was stationed in new york once upon a time when he was a young lad in the army, and he spent quite a bit of social time with these folks.  They adore my dad, and the excitement of having Reece's daughter out was almost too much for them to take. 

 

When we arrived to Tuckahoe we met the whole clan:  Joan and Ray, my dad's cousins, Ray Jr, Anthony, Jill and James (their kids) and of course Aunt Margaret, my dad's aunt and the matriarch of the Cooney/Meegan family.  We walked in that door and it was like coming home, they were so welcoming and generous.  It always amazes me how much family can have in common just because of our DNA. 

 

Right away we made the introductions and then IT WAS ON.  Drinks were handed out and we started playing asshole at 3pm, pre-gaming before we headed to the city for the ball drop.  Now, you know I felt right home since I could get to drinking right away.  It was just that much more amazing that all three generations were drinking and egging myself and my friends on. 

 

Then the moment of truth.  I lit up a cigarette, and realized my company.  Quickly I explained that my parents did not know I smoked, and asked my newfound family not to say anything.  My Great Aunt Maragret said in her raspy voice while laughing:

 

"Oh please.  I'm drinking and smoking and look at me!  I'm seventy-two and I'm fine!"

 

Awesome, absolutely awesome.  This really was my family.  It was the defining moment that I truly felt that I was among my own.

 

Aunt Margaret passed away this weekend, tonight I will be going to the viewing and hopefully attending the funeral tomorrow as well.  She was an amazing woman, and she lived long and full life.  The Irish family will all be coming together, and I'm sure that the joy she spread in her life will be celebrated and remembered with much aplomb.

 

Margaret B. Meegan

Born: November 27, 1921

Died: March 04, 2006

 

Services:Tuesday, March 7, 2006 at 9:30AM Immaculate Conception Church, Tuckahoe,NY Interment Woodlawn Cemetery

Visitation:Sunday 7-9PM Monday 2-4, 7-9PM

 

Margaret B. Meegan, nee O'Keefe, 84, died on March 4, 2006. Beloved wife of the late Joseph. Devoted mother of Peggy Dowd and her husband Pat, Joan Stabile and her husband Ray, the late Betty Ann Lubrino, Kathleen Cohn and her husband Walter and Grace Dellapi. Loving grandmother of seventeen. Cherished great grandmother of sixteen. Also surviving is Margaret's son-in-law, Ralph Lubrino. Friends may gather at Westchester Funeral Home, Inc., Eastchester on Sunday from 7-9 p.m. and Monday from 2-4 and 7-9 p.m. Mass of Christian Burial on Tuesday 9:30 a.m. at Immaculate Conception Church, Tuckahoe. Interment to follow at Woodlawn Cemetery

inspiration

Last night my bar night plans with my girlfriends didn't pan out, so I ended up watching Rent on DVD and tossing back a couple beers. The combination of the two resulted in the following, in order:

Light singing

Loud singing

Tears

Replaying the La Vie Boehm scene and acting out the dances in my living room

Replaying the Out Tonight scene and acting out the dance in my living room (very challenging endeavor)

Discovery and invention of speech for sister's wedding that made me cry

Determination I am an incredible speech-maker

Complete inability to recall said speech

Invention of blog post in my mind saying how much I miss Seattle Girl as she is such a neat person and cherished friend, making my self cry yet again due to my own verbal elegance

Texting DTH guy (named after the place of initial contact) saying "I miss the taste of your lips." Because such a normal thing to do.

Amazing how much one work of art can be the catalyst to so much.

Another inspiration I recently had to which I am utterly dumbfounded occurred yesterday morning. When discussing our next encounter, I offered to cook dinner for DTH guy.

Wha??? What the hell came out of my mouth? It isn't that I can't cook, I can follow a recipe, and even doctor it to make it better. It is that I honestly believe that paying someone else to do all the work is so worth it. Now I have to go shopping, prep and cook the damn meal, and then clean up. Since I am a bright side person, I am already looking to the challenge and adventure of it all, as I of course cannot prepare anything I already know how to make. Don't be silly, what would be the fun in that?

Said encounter is tonight, so off I go to find a recipe and get this thing off the ground. Wish me luck.

much love

All I gotta say is, I got five times the normal hits on my blog today than normal. Ya'll are dirty muthas. And that is why I am proud to call you my friends. :)

three times

Just in the first hour.

Oh my indeed. ;)

tribute

Yes, second day in a row without an original post from me, but this is too good to pass up.

I was forwarded this from Seattle Girl. How cool is that? Okay, maybe it is geek love, but that is the only love I know.

The date is still on for tomorrow night, so if all goes well no post until Friday. Oh, the suspense. Can you handle it?