Posts

Showing posts from March, 2007

Pilates or a Good Work Out Based in Fear

Image
For those of you who don't have access to a gym that provides classes and find your exercise in less costly ways such as jogging, riding your bike, or sprinting away from danger, pilates is a practice of exercise that involves doing 7,000 sit-ups in varying ways for one hour. You'd be surprised at the number of moves that require you to use your abdominal muscles. Almost all of them are done while lying flat on your back with your legs in the air. Which means that most of the time you're exercising, you're not trying really hard because you want a good work-out, you're trying really hard because you don't want to embarrass yourself by passing gas. Celia and I went to pilates after work today. I put my mat in the back of the class as I always do--in part, because I don't want anyone behind me to follow my lead and end up spranging his or her back (there was actually only one "his" in the entire class). I am fine for most of the class because it'

Here's the Thing

Image
(Image found at Atelier Lydia ) We went out for happy hour tonight--Molly, Celia, Lisa Marie and I--and we talked for half the night about work--using code names and deconstructing people based on personal experience; attempting to understand how we might succeed in life without being total bitches. There were frat boys everywhere. We didn't speak to them, though we did lust after the waiter. I don't know how to pick up boys. I don't know if I want to know how to pick up boys. I look around and think, No, not you, not you, maybe you, but probably not and why waste the energy? In some ways, it would be easier if we lived in a culture where your mate was picked for you from birth. So fine, you marry this guy with a gigantic mole on his face, and maybe he's too short, but he also loves his mother and is good with kids so whatever, you can deal with it. You can marry this person and then move on to figure out what you want to do with the rest of your life. That would be pre

Mr. Big Isn't So Hot Anymore

Image
I am glad that he's still working as an actor, even if it's just Law and Order Special Victims Unit but what's more depressing is that he is starting to have a craggy face that makes his nose look larger, and he's got bags under his eyes. Mr Big, what has happened? It's happening to me too. I am getting old, I am getting to the point where people will start giving my birthday cards that jokingly say, Over the Hill! with black balloons. I hate it. The culture of youth. I saw a bunch of teenage girls walking to Catholic school this morning in really short pleated skirts and black tights. One girl was behind the rest, and she had an armful of notebooks and folders clutched to her chest. She is that girl who sits in the front of the class and raises her hand first. I tried to remember what it was like to be in high school--what things did I dread? Everything. Did I have my gym shoes for PE? Would we have to play softball (I was not athletic)? Did I finish my homework fo

Okay, I'm in Trouble

Image
I just discovered that with Comcast Digital Cable, I can order about 100 free movies (including 2 Woody Allen flicks and Leprechaun II, III, XI) and I can also record shows to watch later if I am unavailable--which means that I could record Supernanny at pretty much any moment and also catch up on all these old movies I've wanted to watch but never wanted to rent, like In the Heat of the Night. Why does Comcast want to make me a social pariah? Why do they want to force me to stay home and watch Say Anything and relive my high school years and also feel the urge to grab a boom box and stand outside of Shawn's house playing "In Your Eyes" at 2 a.m.? Well, to their credit, they also offer the Exercise Channel, so if I am so inclined, I can subscribe to Pilates III and sit watching others work out while I eat Doritos and critique the participants clothing attire. I can't deal with this much choice, it makes me never want to watch TV again. But listen, they actually ha

And Then Again There Were 3

Image
So, I took back possession of the possessed Emma Carol who Ernesto and Henri are regarding with indifference laced with suspicion. They sort of remember her---they remember that she's a pain in the ass, meows too much, tears up plastic bags, won't share the string when playing. Also found four chairs in relatively good condition for the kitchen table, yes, at none other than Circle Thrift, only $9 total because all of the furniture was half-off. So now I want for nothing, except someone to clean the cat litter box every day so that I don't have to. I am that lady now; that lady lousy with cats. No room at the inn for any more strays who decide to drop by and insert themselves into my life like E & E did, and Henri too about 12 years ago. The cable guy, Rudolph, also came on Sunday which means I can now watch Sweet Sixteen on MTV nonstop with my mouth hanging open in disbelief on how spoiled 1% of the population is. Saw two episodes yesterday where the parents spent $30

Everything You Ever Wanted in Life, You Can Find at Circle Thrift

Including this chair I'm currently sitting on, purchased this evening for $4 (it was really $8, but blue dot items were half off). Yesterday, Celia and I went to H & M and I almost bought a dress for $34 without blinking, because that was the basic cost of dresses there. Tonight at CT, I found myself switching my parameters of what was acceptable based on the prices there. Like, I'd see something I wanted (for instance, this frame with 100 crosses on it, $8) and evaluate it in a different way. Then I realized, Everything is cheap here. Get whatever you want. For under $20, I walked away with a sweater from Old Navy, a black button up shirt from Express, a chair, and the aforementioned frame. I'm starting to like my house more and more if only because I'm hanging things on the walls and putting out my photos and so it's starting to seem more like mine and less like a place I'm squatting. (Just as an aside, channel 61 only plays Mama's Family --one of the

I do have a boyfriend!

His name is Ernesto. He is the sweetest boy ever. When I arrive home, he races down the stairs, nearly falling at my feet and licks my eyelid. He follows me wherever I go, wanting my attention, to be near me, to climb on top of my head while I'm sitting at the computer. He chases off other possible suitors (Henri, not much of a contender) taking a swipe at him if he dares to slink near me. He honestly won't leave me alone. He misses his EmmaCarol. Fine, so I decided to order Internet and basic cable. Well, it's really special basic cable because, as the woman at Comcast explained, basic basic would just be the regular channels I get now, only tuned in more clearly. With special basic basic cable, I can watch MTV and Comedy Central and the Discovery and History Channel and Telemundo. AND if I wanted to pay just $20 more, I could receive 100 extra stations such as the Baking Network, Court TV, Judge Judy 24/7, The Hair Cut Channel, numerous cartoons, a station that plays only

Apology

Liz M. told me that her friend Rauol (whose name I am most definitely spelling wrong) read my blog (she has a link on hers to mine) and asked Liz to tell me that the paella I referenced as a Mexican dish, is actually a Spanish food. I should've written instead "tapas." (I'm kidding!). Sorry. A very good dinner was had by all last night--Padhraig made a salad with his secret dressing and then also a stew with big chunks of meat and potatoes and carrots and then for dessert, there was a cake with hazelnuts on top. We were also served coffee with whiskey in it. I worried that I wouldn't be able to sleep later, but luckily, I was able to consume 15 glasses of wine and so had no trouble at all. Went to Royal Tavern after dinner. Royal is the same as ever. (A woman with gigantic sunglasses and messy blong hair just came in a sat next to me and started talking to the barrista about the dog doors she's putting in. She's very friendly. I moved my seat). Went to the

Happy St. P Day

Image
And I am not referring to St. Patrick's Day--I'm referring to the fact that today is Padhraig's birthday, not sure of his age though he must be ancient. What a cliche he is--an Irish person having a birthday on St. Pat's Day. Carrie and he are hosting dinner at their house we will sing "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow" and "The Old Bairny Down the Lane," a traditional Irish birthday song. I ventured out in the slush today wearing a pair of dead cute fuzzy boots I found at Circle Thrift--they make me look mythological, like my feet belong to that of a forest creature. Unfortunately, after stepping into a puddle and finding my feet soaked, it occurred to me that perhaps I had left the house in boot-shaped bedroom slippers, not meant for outdoor fare. Too late now. Lots of bad dreams last night--the main one was the direct result of me having read Stephen King before bed--the details mirrored the climactic scene in the novel. The gist of it was that

Cursed with Cats (post from last night)

DAMNIT. On the way to work this morning, I made the colossal error of petting a slightly skittish fluffy orange cat with a dirty nose. She looked like a big marmalade puff ball. She was timid at first, but then in love, and she followed me down the sidewalk. She wore a brown flea collar, so I didn't worry too much. At the end of the day, I saw her again when I walked back to my car. She was in the same place, and now meowing and digging at a door to no avail. FUCK. I debated what I should do, asked this guy standing on the porch next door if he knew her. He didn't. If he wanted her. He said, I already have too many cats. I left her there, thinking that she has a dirty nose because she's probably been trying to burrow under the door to get back inside. Where are her people? (For the record, I don't know that she's a she. She just seemed girlish). I drove away, heartless. But now, if I see her again tomorrow, what should I do? I can't leave her. I can't brin

Super Nanny isn't Racist

My mom sent me a disappointed email for the last post--because of course there's plenty to be more profound about than Britney; she suggested George Fucking W. Bush or the war in Iraq (though I think the word "war" is misleading; it's not a war. A war is a fight between two equal forces. This is an invasion. I heard on NPR the other day that GFW Bush was in Mexico and he visited a place where the people were preparing to hold a ceremony later in the day to ward off the evil spirits he brings with him) or I could be more thoughtful about poverty or the inequality that I see every day especially in this neighborhood. Or addiction or racism or gender inequity. Plenty of things. For instance, I'd now like to move on to a pressing example of a white woman who is not a racist--Jo Jo Supernanny. This is one of the few shows that makes me laugh out loud and I love it, I love her, and I love how everything is the same every time. For the season finale, JoJo visited an Af

Don't feel like writing but oh well

I have a connection which is rare enough so I guess I should write something profound and deep, bu I don't have many profound or deep thoughts. In fact, on the drive home today, I was seriously considering Britney Spear's relationship with Kevin Federline. I was wondering what she saw in him since he's so obviously a hanger-on, after her money and fame and the association of her name. And I thought how maybe once she realized that, after having fallen madly in love with him and given birth to two babies that look just like him, she must've felt horrible and betrayed and wondered what happened to the more innocent times with the Mickey Mouse Club and puppy love with Justin Timberlake--why didn't she appreciate life more then? I thought how she probably is suffering from post partum depression like Brook Shields did and that's why she's walking around bald and bewildered but how no one takes it seriously. After that, I wondered how Madonna's daughter is do

Why I'm Friends with an Irish Person

He sent me this email in response to me telling him that I"m holding his coffee mug hostage: If you keep the cup there will be all sorts of consequences. eg. i won't getcoffee- will fall asleep behind the wheel, there will be a pile up. a doggie onthe way to the vets to have babby doggies will die. Then, he forwared a link to this precious baby head face bunny wunny .

Home again

Now I'm back in my house and it's 3:31 p.m. because of spring forward and I have no idea what to do with the rest of the day. I should clean the floors, the bathroom, should finish putting together the baskets I bought to organize the basement. Instead, I'm staring at the Sunday crossword, trying to think of a six letter answer to the clue "Actor Ryan." So far, I have filled in about .01% of the squares and am stumped. Came home to find children playing in the back yard and noticed that they had dropped Doritos bags in my yard, so went outside to retrieve them. One of the kids saw me and I smiled and then another kid yells, Lady! as a warning, but the girl answered, It's okay, she's nice so I felt accepted. Went out again a few minutes later because I recognized one of the girls--she introduced me to her white cat who has one blue eye and one brown eye on the first day I moved in. I asked them if they wanted to meet Ernesto. One of the girls said, Oh! I th

Rotten with Cats

Everywhere you turn in my neighborhood, you will be greeted by a skanky looking cat--maybe a cat with one eye, or a mangled back leg, or a tumor the size of Indonesia on its brain. They crawl across the brick backyard walls. I suppose I could start naming them. There's the black cat, we'll call him "Nearly Dead"--he's the one who has a bad back leg and worms crawling out of his behind. Then there's a gray and white spotted cat with runny eyes who stares at me and runs away when I step outside. A sort of orange and white cat, another bad leg, she limps across the wall. They all appear to have been thousands of battles. I put Ernesto in the back window to show him what his life could have been like were he not rescued. Thanks to all of my lovely work friends, Liz and I were able to go to Ikea yesterday afternoon and buy several of the things that will help to make my living situation more comfortable. We got: a rectangular kitchen table with black legs and a w

A post from Thursday? But no connection until today...

I find two things a little strange about this new house. One, it is so quiet. I don't hear my neighbors at all; unlike Fishtown, there's no one yelling outside of the door or drag racing down the street. This will most likely change when summer rolls around. I imagine marichi music and children playing outside, but maybe that's racist. Secondly, I stand a lot. I can sit down on the sofa if I want to read or watch one of the two channels I get, but to use the computer or to smoke a cigarette, I have to stand. The laptop is perched on a bookshelf near the window because it's the only way I can get a connection. This weekend, Liz and I will use my lovely Ikea gift card to buy some things. A desk maybe and perhaps a chair and a different tv stand so that I can fit my stereo on it. This morning, I decided it was okay to turn on my stereo while getting ready, but even that felt too loud, like I might be disturbing my invisible neighbors. Neither Ernesto nor Henri make much of

AHWOSG

I have been unable to do anything tonight except read this David Eggers book I've had for years but never opened. I got it one day at a used bookstore in State College but it didn't start it because I worried it would be too precious or irritating and also because too many people had told me I should read it and because I've submitted more than one piece to McSweeney's and though been encouraged to send more work, never accepted. But I took the subway to work today and happened upon this book in one of my still not unpacked boxes this morning and so started it on the ride to work and then again on the way back and so that is how my evening has evaporated. It gives me a slight stomach ache to read because it's so sad, or maybe I just have a stomach ache and think it's from the book, but I can't write more now because I have to keep reading it and I only paused to let you know that this is what I'm doing (also I had to stop anyway to pee).

Yipee, TV

Sort of. I spent $21 at Best Buy for an antennae and I now can get 3 channels!! For some reason, both Fox stations come in really well, but channel 3 and 6 are fuzzy, so there goes watching Jeopardy . Luckily, I can almost see Anna Nicole's garrish and horrible, tacky to the end funeral on an ET Extra Extra See All About It. Everyone appears to be kissing the casket, which is covered with white silk and pink roses. They have released 5,000 frightened white doves. Excruciating. Someone named Mo is digging the grave now and the mom is helping out. I believe she is wearing white Reeboks with her black dress. You can see the forced tears and dollar signs in all of their eyes. I also stopped into the $1 store, not expecting to find anything but fake flowers, but instead, I was able to purchase 6 necessary objects--glass cleaner, non-animal tested soap, a laundry bag, aspirin, measuring spoons and cups. I love that kind of thing. And best, best of all--Celia arranged to get my friends a

Things learned through trial and error, brought to you by IKEA

It just occurred to me again (I'm sure I've thought this before) that Ikea is nothing more than a gigantic Sims store. In fact, the two companies might even work together. I swear to you that the kid's whimsical bedroom furniture available at Ikea is identical in Sims II. And honestly, all of the furniture that you can buy for your avatar people in Simland can also be purchased at this gigantic, real life faux (?) Swiss shoppe. Moving has made me feel like the new Sim on the block. I believe I have already made two gigantic social errors that would put me in the red. Moments after I arrived back from the grocery store, about five boys between the ages of 8-10 burst out of this one house to throw the football back and forth on the street. I thought maybe they were trying to impress me. Then I dropped a bag of groceries and we all watched as a can of pinto beans rolled out in the street, followed by a pint of Ben and Jerry's half-baked frozen yogurt (2 for $5). One of the

But Where Will I Put the Towels?

I have survived the move to South Philly, thanks in no small part to Padhraig, Carrie, Shawn, and the U-Haul guy who didn't charge me the extra $34 to fill up my gas tank. I had so much anxiety about moving--would I be able to drive the truck back to Fishtown without crashing? If I didn't crash, would we be able to fit everything into the truck or have to take multiple trips? Would everyone get lost on the way to the new place? Once we arrived, what if we couldn't find parking? If we did find parking, would we step on a hypodermic needle while unloading and contract AIDS? (This is not as unlikely as it might at first seem. I have seen such a needle on my street as well as lots of broken glass and several Hispanic children playing on the streets with very little regard to the danger). However, we made it, in spite of Padhraig's "dodgey back" and I am very very very thankful to everyone for helping. Let's not forget Kali, who picked me up this morning and dr

The man of my dreams

I have decided after viewing a short scene from a Justin Timberlake movie wherein he and Christina Ricci are making out that JT and I are meant to be together. Look, I don't necessarily respect the fact that he was in a corporate developed all guy teeny bop band. I don't necessarily love that he and Brittney dated. I'm not a huge fan of his perma-scruff or his fedoras. HOWEVER! I could overlook all of those things. Though I never actually scene any movies he's been in, I did read about them on imdb and the reviews of his acting have been positive. Also, my friend Padhraig burned me a copy of FutureSex/LoveSound and I even listened to it and, crazier still, liked it. I understand that Cameron Diaz is a hard act to follow but I think she smokes too much pot and is probably terribly silly to the point of irritation. I mean, she's fun and all, but you have to be grounded too, you know? And so what if I can't even quite remember if he was in NSync or Boys 2 Men or Th