Smarter Than Your Average Cookie

i hope robyn and mark get back together

2012-01-23T18:06:00.000-05:00

Today, in a meeting, someone said that today is, scientifically, the most depressing day ofthe year. The reasoning, they say, isthis: we’re far enough past new years that any resolution you made is broken. Andalso, all the credit card bills from the holidays are due.

I didn’t make any resolutions and I didn’t buy any gifts for anyone, soyou’d think I’d be safe. Still, though, a pretty dreary and depressing day onthe eastern front.

During the seven minutes of sunlight, the city was blanketed in cottonyfog – so thick that new jersey completely disappeared.

I’m fairly certain these are gratuitous and totally unnecessary quotationmarks. Yeah, guys, I realize there’s notactually love packaged with this horrid seed and berry energy bar. Maybe next time you can go for a little less love, and a little more non-vomit taste.

After leaving the little company for a big company, I went back to the little company that got bought by a big company - so I did the ‘no company’ fora while which was not healthy, and then went to a sort of little/big companywhich is now, three years later, a legitimately a big company. I don’t mind itas much as I would have thought (the big part), and my job is actually prettysweet cheeks, so the scale is definitely in my favor. Now that I live in Brooklyn my commute isabout a banana and a clementine (that’s what I can safely eat on the subway,assuming that the clementine is fairly easy to peel). Sweet cheeks x2. (I justdecided to try this sweet cheeks thing. I’m not sure if I like it.) I’m headedfor a 5 day cruise to the Bahamas with my family, total sweet cheeks except I’mgoing to have to adjust my winter leg shaving routine. I don’t do well with routine disrupters, sothis has me a little concerned.

When I was a kid, I used to have nightmares that vegetables startedgrowing out of my pores. Like, I’d wakeup and little broccoli trees were sprouting on my arms, and artichoke leaves onmy knees. When I hear people talk about cauliflower ear (this is a populartopic of conversation, no?) I get flashbacks, and start to feel queasy.

You know what is one of the worst things ever? When you go tounsubscribe from an email list, and you’re redirected to a page that says ‘Thisemail address cannot be found.’

I’m watching HIMYM on Netflix. It’sreally the perfect show that you don’t need to pay attention to, so it works asbackground entertainment while I knit and do other crafty things (I do no othercrafty things. I tried making paper flowers once and ended up gluing all thepaper to my table – so I ended up with paper table, instead of paper flowers).

Anyway, in one of the episodes Barney is trying to get everyone to readhis blog and Marshall or Ted or someone else says, ‘uggh, blogs are so over.’ Isthat true? Can someone let me know if that’s the case?

I lied about not making any resolutions. I just remembered that I had resolved to write more. After re-reading this post, I’m pretty sure Ishould concede now because the quality is not even close to sweet cheeks. I think yearly blog posts of quality areworth far more than weekly posts about vegetable skin.

On the upside, the Challenge is starting up again this week.

Days Done, Gone the Sun

2012-01-02T20:26:00.000-05:00

Landing in Palm Beach, I was confronted by the hazy sun of a bright Florida morning. I stood with my sister in the pickup zone, waiting for our uncle to pick us up and drive to the Star of David Cemetery where we would, in three hours time, bury my grandfather.
It was perfectly warm out, not the accosting humidity I associate with southern florida. Perfect weather, I thought.
My next thought was, I hope they buried Grandpa in a sweater, or he'll be complaining about the chill.
**
There are probably many fundamentals on which Grandpa Irving and I disagreed, but the one that sticks in my head the clearest is our diverging definitions of hot and cold.
**
To be fair, I have been told by other people that my internal temperature gauge might run a little hot, but I'm also fairly certain that few people would ask to turn the heat on while driving in a car down a florida highway in the mid-noon sun, a request that Irving made during my last visit to see him and Grandma Edith. What would be, in the end, our last days together.
**
On the way to the funeral, I concerned myself with remembering all of the relatives I don't know, sorting out the cousins from the great nephews, from the old crew in Jericho - friends my grandparents kept since their initial exodus to the suburbs in the 40s.
**
It was no use. I didn't recognize anybody. To make things worse, this is a family that asks, "do you remember me?" without hesitation. "Sort of." and "I'm trying to place..." were the only answers I could muster. Apparently, standing 50 feet from your grandfather's coffin limits your ability or desire to lie.
**
There was a military service, coffin blanketed by a flag, as a service man in dress blues played taps on a muted trumpet. At my first summer camp away, they would play taps over the loud speaker indicating lights out. In the chapel, my nose prickled with the remembered scent of pine needles and campfires.
Lights out.
**
Graveside, we watched as four men lowered the coffin into the ground. (This is a shaky precarious business, the lowering of the casket. Apparently, cranks and electric motors aren't as prevalent as tv would have you believe. Instead it's pure muscle, balancing and lowering and balancing. the type of maneuvering you see from professional movers, pivoting your couch from a 3rd floor walk-up. I wonder if these men are also movers, or if there's enough coffin lowering business to keep them working full time.)
**
We each took a turn shoveling a bit of dirt into the grave. The dirt was like sand, soft and light- different from the muddy rocks I'd shoveled on my other grandfather, back north on Long Island. The sand felt less oppressive, somehow, like you could still crawl out if some terrible mistake had been made.
**
At the hospital, my Grandma went to see the body one last time. "Do you have a pin?" she asked. "Someone told me it might be a good idea. Just in case."
**
the patriarchal tear - at least in literature and film - is a rarity, and usually comes with some sweeping reconciliation or awakening or, at least, a newfound sympathy. My father, though, has never been a stranger to his emotions - his tears, his sobs, his snotted handkerchief, were expected.
So it was his stoicism, instead, that shook me as we walked back to the limo.
**
My father's relationship with his dad was complicated - a combination of two forces, an echo trying to alter his song on the return. My father is art and nature and emotion. Grandpa was iron and fortitude and examination. It was never entirely easy, but dad played the dutiful son to the very end. People have said that my relationship with my father has many of these same qualities. I am not as dutiful, though.
**
I'm sure he probably cried later, or even before, when he was alone with his thoughts.
I cried before, and after (my quickness to tears is a birthright). Tears shed for grandpa, yes, but also tears for my widowed grandma and for my dad, a fatherless son, and for his own mortality.

At his funeral, I wonder, will I cry then, or is a truer pain-shown by those so quick to weep-a dry face of stone.
**

it's not New York, it's you.

2011-12-16T18:56:00.001-05:00

I've been living in my totally amazing apartment now for almost a month. it's 94 percent great and 7.6 percent "still getting used to it". Yes, I see the math and no I'm not bad at addition. The point I'm trying to make is I've been running at over 100 lately so there's a chance I'm overindexing on emotion.
**
one of the "getting used to it" points is package delivery. A minor thing, really, except that I decided to outfit my kitchen with new kitcheny things - things that I could look at when walking from my bed to the bathroom and say, "you could totally have a dinner party if you wanted to. You'd certainly have enough pots and pans to saute AND blanch."
**
I ordered a knife set, a salad spinner, an easy to clean garlic press, a slicer, a cutting board, and a set of pots and pans. To avoid the misery spiral that's set off by the "sorry we missed you" package slip, I had everything delivered to the office.
**
Tonight, the pots and pans arrived. Everything prior had been pretty small and transportable on the subway. The 10 piece cookware set, however, was bulky and heavy and semi fragile, so I decided to cab it home. I had saved a good 30 dollars on the set with a coupon, so I was feeling net positive about the purchase and excited to get home and order some take out.
**
I left the office at around 6, a pretty terrible time for cab hailing, especially where my office is-at the entrance to the Holland tunnel. I didn't mind too much, though, because it wasn't too cold out and the pot box doubled nicely as a foot rest.
**
I stood on the side of southbound Varick St. and watch as a few off duties, and a few more occupied cabs drive by. I spend the first couple of minutes eyeing the distance for the yellow glow of availability. As time passes, my cool demeanor starts to devolve, and finally I'm in the perma-hail stance, willing to take my chances on anything - hard-up liveries, shady gypsy cars, even a random samaritan.
**
That's when it happens.
**
these two girls step out directly in front of me, arms raised.
**
Almost immediately, an off duty yellow cab does the slow roll past them. "34 and CPW" one girl says. He rejects their address and speeds off.
**
At any given time, tons of people are trying to get from one place to another and that first place could be the same place that someone else is similarly trying to get away from. I get it. Everyone gets it. But, there is something wildly different between finding yourself hailing a cab on the same piece of block as someone else, and having this someone else step directly in front of you - so close you can see her panty line pressed against her too-tight pants; so close her perfume gets trapped in your clothes.
**
"Excuse me, Miss, I've been standing here for like 10 minutes. I'm getting the next cab."
She did a quarter turn and scowled at me.
"I'm getting. The next. Cab."
Then she and her friend do this synchronized hand gesture as she screams, "Whatever, this is New York City. Survival of the fittest."
**
I unrest my foot, grab the box, and push past them.

"Oh really?," one cackled. "well we can do the same thing." And with that they started walking fast, eliminating the gap I had created between us.
Finally, I started to cross the street. "Merry Christmas," I shouted as I went. "Whatever, you ugly fat ho," she shouted back.
**
I ended up taking the subway.
**
Here's really my point. I've lived in NY for ten years. I know this city. I love this city. And, I'm sick of folks using it as their reason for being bad people. "This is New York" shouldn't be your excuse for being rude, inconsiderate, or selfish. Maybe you've had a bad day. Maybe you're dealing with personal baggage. And maybe you're just mean. Don't hide behind this idea that New York gives you the right to be that way. The city isn't your priest. It doesn't absolve you.
**
Yes, this is New York City, but you'll be an asshole anywhere you go.
**
Oh, and also, any actual New Yorker knows that there is no way an off-duty cab driver, going southbound in TriBeCa, is going to take a fare to 34th and Central Park West. I mean, please.**

Can you call yourself a writer if you never write? No really, I'm asking

2011-10-21T11:32:00.000-04:00

i call myself a lot of things that i'm not actively being: a writer, a musician, a traveler, a wise ass. But, I'm going to maintain a "once and always" attitude for these things, since without them i'm not sure what i actually am.
**
it's been a year since i ditched the commute from hell, and i'm moving again. same general location (ie. within 20 minutes of my current worky situation), but upgrading the space. There are two things I don't like about living in small spaces; 1. not enough space for anything, and 2. the whole of the space smells like poo. more specifically cat poo.
**
this is something about living with cats that you try not to think about too much, but becomes more difficult when you're woken, not by the scent of fresh coffee from the fancy maker that has a timer on it, but by the second life of your cat's dinner.
**
last week i found the place of my dreams. A beautiful garden apartment with charm, closets, and space to successfully quarantine the litter box.
it has a private patio, an official dining area, and the good kind of hardwood floors that go 'thunk, thunk' when you walk instead of 'clink, clink'. (if you're not aware of these two sounds and the various floors that make them, that means you live on carpet and we have nothing further to discuss.)
**
Being the first level of an otherwise one-family home, the owners are being very careful with who they pick as a tenant. I had to provide an annotated life history, along with financial records and letters of recommendation. Getting letters of recommendations is extremely satisfying and I recommend you ask for them if you're ever feeling a bit down on yourself. Make up a suitable reason (job search, going to grad school, etc.) and get a friend to pen up some pearls about you.
**
based on my recommendation letters I'm pretty sure i'm the most awesome, nicest person that ever was. this will be important for me to remember if i don't actually get the apartment and am thrown into a misery spiral.
**
i adopted a child from guatemala. his name is Hernan and he's two and a half. if he doesn't show up at my door in 16 years looking to be housed, fed, and educated, i'm going to be a bit disappointed.
**
the other day i was eating pickle chips and one of them looked like this:

Nuts and Berries and a Logical Disposition

2011-04-25T09:20:00.003-04:00

Wine country is depressing.
**
On Monday I drove to Sonoma from San Francisco, and at first I was all smiles. it was unusually clear and the tunnel on the marin side of the bridge has a rainbow painted on the arch.
Then the city gives way to bucolic open ranges, with cows and grass and more cows.
The first vineyard pops up and your like, cool, grapes.
But then you see another vineyard and then another and the symmetry starts looking ominous, then it just looks like fields and fields of military cemeteries. One big arlington of grapes.
**
The planes on transcontinental flights on american are the two/three/two configuration. I remember the first time I flew to LA on the 232, and told dew about it, he thought I was lying and/or misremembering because "you never see a 232 anymore." Well, they're alive and well in the AA fleet.
**
So, I arrive at the airport and see on the check in monitor that the plane I'm to board is, as usual, a 232. My seat assignment was the aisle of a three, directly over the wing.
This obviously posed a quandary.
**
There's probably some of you who don't evaluate the various dimensions of seat choice so here is my thought process, that you may obsess accurately the next time you fly:
Pros
1. Over the wing. I will likely survive any minor collision or emergency.
2. Middle seats are the time out chairs of the plane. There's a chance it will go unoccupied in which case it becomes the love seat of the plane.
2b. lack of solo flyers could result in an empty middle AND empty aisle. This is the pull out futon of the plane. (unless we're taking about the 3 in the bulkhead, where the arms don't move. Then it's like the ottoman of the plane, if the ottoman was tiny and next to a corner sofa with a chaise.)
Cons
1. The stress and anxiety from wondering if 2a or 2b might actually occur gives me heartburn.
2. There is a good chance that the middle and other aisle will be occupied by travel partners. This means I'd be subjected to their conversation , or worse, their game of travel scrabble.
3. I've noticed that families traveling with a lap child will often pick the middle/aisle with the meager hope of snagging an empty. The only thing worse than watching an old biddy squander "s"es is being strapped in next to a lap child.
4. The wings on this plane are way way back. Like they are almost attached to the tail. Deplaning would take forever.
Given these scenarios, along with the fact that I often enjoy a nap propped against the window of the plane, I opted to switch to a window in the bulkhead, giving me optimal pillow placement and extra leg room.
**
Six hours later, I waited while "perpetual throat clearer" got his bag from the overhead. As he gathered his things, someone excited the bathroom directly across from our seats, allowing once more the aromatic flavor waft through the air. I'm pretty sure I could hear giggles of delight from the tail of the plane, as they all marveled at the magical seats that reclined into heated water beds.
**
I left wine country and am now holed up in the marriot in san mateo. I just ordered a peanut butter and jelly sandwich from the kids menu. I hope they don't realize there's no kid here and refuse delivery because I'm really hungry.
I figure my luck's gotta change, right?

My Eulogy

2011-04-22T19:36:00.001-04:00

I'm writing from the subway (see post re: mobile applications).
I was sitting quietly, listening to a french family conversing, smiling and nodding my head once in a while thinking they'll see my movement and assume I understand them. They would know I'm not a native frenchman (as all nationalities can instantly recognize their own) so they would decide that I must be a worldly traveler who speaks all known languages.
**
There is a lull in their conversation and I look over to see the dad playing what must be the much more fun french version of angry birds.
**
That's when I hear it. The undeniable, unmistakable crack/snap of a nail clipper. If you are unfamiliar about my strong feelings regarding public hygiene please refer to every other post in this blog.
**
I look around trying to spot the culprit, praying it's not one of the frenchies that I spent so much time impressing.
No. it was an old man with rough callousy hands. I instantly boiled to a silent rage. I wanted to scream, "this is NOT your bathroom!!" Then I thought that doing so would likely peg me as that one crazy person the frenchies were told they were bound to run into on the new york city subway.
But, I didn't care. Who did this guy think he was? There isn't even an answer to that question that would satiate me because nobody on earth -including oprah- has the right to clip in public.
Then I thought, 'what if this guy carries a gun? i mean, he carries around a nail clipper, isn't it just one small step to concealed weapon?'
**
Meanwhile, the french dad continues a losing battle against a legion of mal de cochon (you see, i actually do know all known languages).
.....smack...oink
....crac-nk.....
......clipsmackcrackoinkmoo....

**
i get off at my stop, having said no words, but thinking more words than i've probably thought the whole day - words not appropriate for this blog.
as the train pulls away, singing its west side story goodbye (<-- this, by the way, is something i've been meaning to mention for a while. Do you think the MTA engineers purposefully programmed the sound of an exiting train to match the first three notes of Leonard Bernstein's emotional ballad, Somewhere? If you're hearing it, you've likely missed the train - but instead of a kiss off, the train is reminding you that maybe, just maybe, this was not the train for you. the train for you is somewhere. with peace and quiet and - not open air so much, but the rest of it. And, come to think of it, is this not the very basis of my entire post? Follow me here: the promise of this wonderful peaceful place - thank you very much MTA engineers and Mr. Berstein - ruined, by one man's crusade against rapid cell growth!)
**
i get off at my stop, and the train pulls away (see above).
it was only then that i thought, just briefly, 'I should have said something.' Because, a) the frenchies were clearly too wrapped up in their standoff to even notice me, and b) if the guy did actually have a gun, and he did actually shoot me, people would run off the train screaming, "This guy was cutting his nails and then this girl screamed at him, "This is NOT a bathroom!" and then he shot her!" And that would be the story, printed in all those 'wacky news' sections, and talked about at my funeral. And I can't think of a more honest way for me to meet my end. And my eulogy would say, in between the parts about my internationally known blog, it would say,

"She died trying to put an end to public hygiene."
**
i just got home to my cat taking a poop in the bathtub.

Have you heard of this thing called an "application"?

2011-04-01T23:48:00.001-04:00

I'm using one right now to write this post.
I feel like a true revolutionary.
* *
It just took me seven minutes to find the star button on my mobile phone's touch sensitive keyboard. I was almost ready to give up, both on looking for the star and for mobile application blogging altogether. Because really, what is my blog without
* *
I'm literally boring myself so just this question before slumber:
In this new world of "check-ins" what is the ruling on post-activity manipulation? Because, in theory, I enjoy being king or mayor or covered in stickers as much as the next, but it would be much easier if I could just log my activity every quarter, similar to my expense reports at work.
Does this degrade the integrity of the check-in experience for others? I'd love a ruling.
First person to answer becomes the District Attorney of my blog.

calm down. it's not like it's been a year or something...

2011-03-31T19:40:00.000-04:00

under the wire! By a month!
Take that procrastination.
**
I don't even have anything all that exciting to say, except to say, i'm back. and also the following:

1. The most daring thing I've done in the past 11 months = putting the coffee packet in the Keurig prior to placing the cup under the dispenser. It's like a little race every morning. I feel myself gaining stamina. for real.

2. I no longer live far, far, away. I'm 99% totally thrilled about this - the 1% that's left is all the great commuting stories that I won't have. However, sensing this, the universe gave me this on my subway ride the other day:

A living statue! On the subway! Reading the paper! Dude is on a break.

3. I think the gum industry overuses the word 'clean'. I mean, i get it, but really they're abusing that adjective.

4. Now that I know about these things, they're happening everywhere and annoying the shit out of me:
a. people saying "net net". There is only one net! you can't net net! Seriously people. stop that.
b. people saying "begs the question". nope! sure doesn't beg the question. stop THAT.

5. The company I work for moved into a new space, and by new I mean BRAND HOT DIGGITY NEW and by space I mean, architectural showroom. It's pretty insane. Beautiful, sleek, just slightly uncomfortable - as all good art spaces should be. But, what i want to talk about today is the bathroom situation.
**
for some reason the bathrooms were not a part of the gut renovation. so really it was more of an upper and lower body renovation, they left the guts pretty much alone.
there are multi-stalled ladies and men's rooms. Each are accessible by way of a pass code you push into a panel on the door. when i first saw the high-tech entry mechanism i was pretty sure that behind the bolted door were golden bidet/toilet combos, an outdoor shower, and maybe even Narnia.
**
just regular toilets and a row of sinks with push down faucets that provide an inaccurate amount of water necessary for total washing. I want to more information about the test group used to determine the flow time. I'd also like to give them a piece of my mind, as they clearly ruined it for the rest of us.
**
But, what i really want to talk about today is the other bathroom.
**
there are two, single stalled unisex/handicap rooms. Each locked by pass code, each equipped with the standard handicapped toilet accoutrements, and - joyously - true life turn-on faucets!
**
can there be any doubt that these two stalls are the economy plus of bathrooms? of course, and there is always an of course, of course when you're sitting in economy plus people don't assume you're there because you have to poo.
**
and so, the economy plus bathroom experience is ruined by two converging lines - 1. when people see you head towards the EP, they assume poop, and 2. nine times out of ten the EP - well - smells like poop.

**
our new office is so beautiful i think we should outlaw pooping all together. it really doesn't go with the whole mystique.
**
i'm back for now. good to see you.

his st. valentine saga

2010-04-03T20:35:00.002-04:00

one of the things that i treasure most in this world is a box of letters my grandfather wrote to my grandmother while he was deployed overseas during WWII. After he passed, my grandma gave them to me so I could have them archived.
the box is like terabithia, the secret garden, and narnia. a secret world of history dyed on v-mail.
**
one of the items - the one i'm transcribing here today - isn't actually a letter he wrote during the war, but a story he wrote after his return. a story for his bride. on valentine's day.
**
     Fate moves in most mysterious ways. Who would have thought that a most inauspicious blind date at a St Valentine's Day party would have led to marriage eights years later. Incredible when you become acquainted with the facts that brought this about.
   It all began in February 1938, when my friend, Sid Posner, asked me whether I would like to accompany him and his girlfriend Ann on a blind date with her closest friend, Alice. Being game for any adventure, I acquiested and we arranged to meet the girls on the Pacific Street station of the BMT since owning your won car was but a vague dream in those depression days. We met and I must confess that it developed Alice and I were singularly unimpressed with each other - so much for a wonderful start of our romance. As she will probably relate to you, I was more intrigued with the Capehart record player at her friend Fay's house than I was with my date.
     We did not meet again until a bit later on when Alice visited my club in Coney Island several times. Of course, she idn't come to see me - there were some other prizes there that apparently she couldn't resist.
     Time went by and WWII reared its ugly head. I enlisted in the National Guard in Nov. 1940 and was federalized in Feb 1941 for one year's service. Of course, the war began in Dec and my outfit left Georgia for Washington and later Norfolk, VA. While in Va., in early 1942, prior to my leaving for OCS in N.C., my friend Artie Spies, revealed that he had been corresponding with and had seen Alice during his leaves. He also showed me photos he had received from her and tried to impress me with the fact that he had taken my girl from me - what a fool! Nevertheless, I was going to show him who was the better man. I then wrote to Alice to reestablish our friendship and requested that she send me a nice picture of herself. This I promptly showed to Arite and stuck out my tongue to him - no one was going to steal my girl???
   Thus the die was cast and the real romance started. We corresponded with each other in a friendly way until I graduated from OCS in July 1942 and came home on leave. Love blossomed but was cruelly interrupted by the hospitalization of my father during my leave. I think we saw weach other only twice during my leave. This undoubtedly left Alice nonplussed.
     I reported to my assigned regiment and then learned we were going overseas. Prior to leaving from Camp Kilmer, Alice visited me several times at Kilmer and we experienced a number of tender moments. Cruel fate then intervened and we were separated for 3 years until my return to the US in Sept 1945. Meanwhile, a very hot correspondence ensued during this period until the letters became scorching - filled with thender endearments and professions of undying love and devotion. Please keep in mind that our time together had been very limited from 1938 to 1945. If you want some reference points for the records in case you wish to write up our love story, Alice saved all my v-mails and they are neatly packed in a box in one of the upstairs closets.
     What a marvelous thing is one's imagination! Reading over letters would have given you the impression that we were the only two lovers in all the world. Meanwhile, Alice was enjoying other associations, unbeknownst to me and I tried to fill the lonely hours with my knowledge of French and some Italian - also a little German. But make no mistake about it - we were in love!
     Upon my return to the US, we met again, of course, and decided to marry. This was in September. By November, I think, it was all over. Attribute this to the fact that I felt somewhat mixed up and uncertain - suffering from war fatigue, no doubt. Everyone loved Alice - my sisters especially since she had made a point of visiting with them during the years I was gone. As a matter of fact, she had dinner every Friday night with my sister Rose and her family who were crazy about her.
      But let's face facts - I hardly knew the girl and I really wasn't settled in my mind. Meanwhile, life went on and I dated some other girls but my heart really wasn't in it. Getting established with a job and career was very difficult at that time. Also, my sisters fought over me - with each insisting that I live with them. I gave each a break - spending a few months with Rose and a few with Shirley.
     It dawned upon me that this was no life and I learned from Rose that Alice had been to Florida - I'm sure it was to forget about her disappointment with me. This piqued my interest and I was curious as to how she was and how she looked.
     Anyway, Rose arranged for us to get together at my sister Shirley mother-in-law's apartment (room) for dinner. I'll never forget how lovely Alice looked when she walked in - all tanned, healthy and desirable. My mind was made up instantly - this was it! We were going to get married. I wanted a fwife, a home, and a family of my own.
     As a side light, now that I think about it, Alice didn't look as though she had been pining away for love of me during our hiatus. She showed me pictures she had taken in Florida, and if you look at them, you'll agree that she was having a heck of a time. Oh! You fickle women - out of sight, out of mind.
     A short time thereafter, late Feb or early Mar, I proposed and Alice lost no time in lining up arrangements. She wasn't about to let me get away again. Before I knew what was going on, the hall was hired and we celebrated a marvelous wedding at the Central Plaza in NY - Chorus, flying doves and all. I don't remember ever having been kissed so much I guess everyone was delighted to see that Alice finally got her man - and frankly, so was I.

unmailed letters to people who stole my heart

2010-02-15T17:03:00.003-05:00

ever since i first heard about Mortified, i knew my 4th grade poem trilogy, "Sad, Sigh, Silence" had found its public platform. the premise, that teen musings are in general overly dramatic, cliched, and hysterical, is totally true. but more importantly, the self-deprecating performance, allows you to share your writing while protecting you from the vulnerability of believing that some of the stuff you wrote at fourteen is actually kind of good.
**
the varied options i have to choose from is - well, slightly embarrassing. i spent a good portion of the day dividing everything into piles: poems for school, poems not for school, fiction, letters to my parents, journals, letters to my dogs/stuffed animals/imaginary owl/self.
**
there was this one pile that i was not expecting, but as i dug through these boxes of papers, it just kept growing. they were letters i had written to someone - a friend, a peer, an unrequited love - but never sent. some were obviously never meant to be postmarked (one starts: "I write this letter to you, these undelivered words..."), but others were sealed and stamped.
**
Facebook withstanding, i am not in touch and have not been in touch with any of the people to whom these letters were addressed. I've shared my feelings before about Facebook, and in a way I resent it for lessening the dramatic frays of lost friendship. but, that's another thing.
**
January 2nd(1997ish)

Bear with me while I try and sort out these words. Perhaps it was the sports strap attached to your plastic sunglasses or maybe your references to 80's cinema. Whatever it was - i knew making friends just wasn't supposed to be that easy. Under different circumstances, you could have been just another face in the crown and vice versa. But, for me, there was an undeniable connection. I couldn't place it but it's a presence i've never really felt before. And so it grew, and we grew - and we fight like the stubborn beings we are but no matter how we might bicker and disagree and turn a deaf ear, I trust and honor your opinion more than most and care about you even more. As Claudia said to Baily, "I love you the best" (author's note: yes, this is a Party of Five reference. Amongst the profound theologians of our time, I chose an orphaned tv character)
I know that right now you need to make things right with yourself and I know that, slowly like a jigsaw (author's note: !!??) you'll see everything as it should be. So, have fun finding life and I hope it will give you the desire to come back to this one.
You are by far one of the greatest people I have ever known.
Stay amazing,
.molly
**
i don't think i need to point too closely to all the mortifying things about this letter. there is one sort of crazy, non-mortifying thing though. after this friend left, we never did recapture things down the road. but, i can read these words thirteen or so silent years later, and i pretty much feel exactly the same way. and i'm glad, in a way, that i didn't mail it, because it's a sweet reminder of the amazing people in the world, and of how lucky i was to spend some time with them.
**
i can't wait for Mortified, 2030 - i'm sure this blog post will be a huge hit.

now my hands are wet AND the water's still running

2010-02-03T18:50:00.000-05:00

here's the thing about swine flu. it's so fucking annoying.
it's like Y2K - something that the public can latch onto and talk about and scare people about and late night tv is so excited to have such a deep well of jokes about.
but when it comes to the reality of things, the result of these MAJOR MAJOR issues are signs posted in the workplace bathroom. literally.
**
two months back i entered the first stall of work's tri-stalled bathroom (prior to 2002 i had always chosen the furthest stall from the door. but then oprah did a study that showed how most people think the furthest stall from the door is the cleanest and therefore it's actually the dirtiest and the ACTUAL cleanest stall is, in fact, the one CLOSEST to the door.) so, as i shut the stall door, i notice a new addition to the decor:(i apologize for the quality of the photo. it was taken with my phone for two reasons: 1. i don't have a digital camera at work, and 2. if i did, i'm still pretty sure i wouldv'e used my phone anyway because shooting flash photography behind a closed bathroom stall might give people the wrong idea, and if they looked underneath the door and saw my feet they'd pretty much know it's me because i'm the only girl in this office that doesn't squeeze her feet into stylish summer mules.)

if you can't tell, this is a sign with step-by-step instructions on washing your hands.
Step one: wet your hands.
Step two: Soap
Step three: Lather and scrub - 20 secs
Step four: Rinse - 10 secs
Step five: Turn off tap
Step six: Dry your hands

Additionally, though not assigned a specific step you are reminded to:
wash between your fingers,
under your nails,
and the tops of your hands.
**
i went through a myriad of emotions from anger (we're adults! we know how to wash our hands) to suspiscion (why now? is there a camera in the bathroom that has caught people NOT washing their hands?) to confusion (now wait, in the directions it tells you to turn off tap and then dry hands, but in the picture the hand is shutting off the tap with a paper towel. are we supposed to leave the tap running, retrieve a towel, return to the tap, shut off, and dry?)
here are some more questions that arose as i stared at the poster:
1. there is no indication that one needs to turn the water on, yet clear instruction on the shut off process. that seems like poor planning and a clear waste of water.
2. i'm not told about the extra steps (under nails, between fingers) until after the drying phase. this seems unnecessarily complicated.
3. in a busy office such as mine, we often run out of paper towel. this poster has proposed no contingency plan. what then, poster, what then?

it was all enough to make my head spin.
**
i know you think that might be the end of the story. and if it was the end, it would have been a cute little bit of observational humor. But
several weeks after that poster first appeared in the ladies room at work, i found myself, again, in that tri-stalled room. and there, posted above the sink, was this:

WHAT? A revised instructional guide to hand washing? Placed in the more accessible spot above the sink?
I hurried into the stall to confirm my suspicion and was shocked to see that the old sign was still on full display. We were being BOMBARDED. Not just being told "Hey, wash your hands." but given full instructions - two sets, no less - of how to do it.
**
This new sign seemed more official, with the logo for some health organization on the bottom. the first one was cartoonish with pictures of germs dancing around the border. The new one was no joke. One statement "wash your hands" - it wasn't a suggestion, it was a demand. The first sign had a "we're in this together" feel. The new sign used guilt - "protect your family from infection".
**
if you know me it shouldn't surprise you that i was, in fact, angry with the sign (or perhaps, more appropriately, the maker and subsequent hanger-upper of the sign) for a while. i spent some solid minutes thinking about who these people were and what their motivations could have been.
**
it was on my next visit to the bathroom that i noticed. finding myself in front of the new sign, i realized that the two signs - the two different instructing us on hand washing - contradicted the other!
never before have i questioned my ability to wash my hands, but now i was faced with two different pictorial demonstrations that were not only unrepresentative of the way I had always washed, but were themselves imparting divergent messages. it was mayhem!
**
first there's the issue of soap - in the first sign they show a rather high-tech automatic dispenser, while in the second they opt for the more traditional bar.
they've neglected to account for any variety of hand pump, leaving me immediately dumbstruck in my home bathroom.
**
even if you're able to get passed the soap, there's the issue of time. How much time, specifically, should one spend washing one's hands? Back at poster number one the recommend a 20 second lather & scrub phase, followed by a 10 second rinse phase. seems simple enough. But, no! Sign two suggests that the whole process - from wet to turn off water - should only take 20 seconds.
Is this an either/or scenario? Like an express lane or easy pass? Sign one for a leisurely moment in the restroom, sign two if you're late for a meeting?
**
i know you're thinking this must be it. but you would be thinking wrong. we've only just begun!
**
i've worked through the complexities of the soap and used my own judgement to count the seconds, and then i'm put in a quandry. Do I rinse, dry, and then turn off the water (pictoral #2) or do i rinse, turn off water, and then dry (pictoral #1). Now, any earth-loving, water conservationist would tell you that clearly #1 is the way to go. But, there's a rub. In the picture, the hand in #1 is holding a paper towel. One can only infer that the sign is recommending you leave the water running, go to the paper towel dispenser, dispense some paper, go BACK to the sink and then turn off the water.
**
it's obvious that the people who printed these signs are much more concerned with sanitation than they are about earth conservation - which shouldn't be suprising since they printed up these signs on paper and put them in every stall and above every sink.
**

better living through technology?

2010-01-26T22:16:00.001-05:00

I'm trying to blog from my mobile device (mlog?) And have found it a
tad difficult. Which is embarrassing since I'm supposed to be all up
in cutting edge technology. I can also see that this might have a
significant impact on my spelling and grammatical errors, two stats
that really don't need more help.
But still, here I am. I wish there was a way to convert a blackberry
to take T9 input, as I'm pretty sure I was a faster typer AND a better
speller with T9.
**
I've been feeling old recently. For the past few years I've seen grey
hairs pop up here or there, but the other day I found a whole patch
had sprouted from my head.
I think my skin is holding up, though, so thank god for small favors.
My eyesight has gone to shit, but it's had the strangely positive
impact of making me less nosy, because I can no longer read upside
down newsprint while hovering over a paper on the subway.
**
I think I probably mentioned this before (but please don't ask me to
hyperlink, because I'm barely certain this is even going to post) but
in my very first career review, at Newbury - a record store in Amherst
- I was told matter of factly, "Molly, you have good ideas, though
they won't always be used." I was 20, and the good ideas being spoken
of were inventive ways to display Pokemon merchandise, or bumping up
staff picks from one album to two.
Today I received my latest career review - working in a vaguely
technological, vaguely creative role at a media company. Today I was
treated to an animated analogy involving Axl Rose.

I think the scripted version of these events would be reversed. But,
my point is, I'm totally psyched that they're not. It feels good, and
makes me grateful that I was strong enough to pull myself out of bed
last winter.
**
What the hell is a Zhu Zhu pet? I actually know WHAT it is, but I mean
like whaaaaat is it? (I wanted italics there, but again, mlogging is
not my forte).
**
The car I'm in right now smells like moldy feet and the driver is
compulsively clearing his throat of some heavy-sounding mucus.
Mar says that I have a low threshold - it's funny how subjective that
is because I think about all the things that don't rile me up. There
are things. Can't list them right now, but believe me, there are
things.
**
This morning I went through all these pictures posted on the facebook
group for my summer camp. I was mostly looking to see if I was in
any, untagged or listed under the wrong name or a question mark
("Marge?")
Facebook is entirely unhealthy for people like me, those who
simultaneously praise and poison themselves with nostalgia. Part of me
wishes it was confrontative - a forum where the years and
distance.aren't used to soften history (or even erase it entirely) but
instead a civilized, non-denominational witness stand and
confessional.
Maybe it is that for some people. For me it's an extension of the old
box of "bus notes" from summer that I still, 18 years later, can't
throw away.
**
I'm almost home where I'll likely update my status with a link to this
post and drift off to sleep wondering which of my electroid ghosts
will read it.

i know i cry at stuff, but this stuff plus I heart brian williams

2009-10-27T10:06:00.000-04:00

on my ride home last night, i hooked up the trusty iPod for some drive time with Terry Gross.
First of all, I love her. She's my second favorite NPR personality, but she's my first favorite 'i believe you're being sincere 99.999999999% of the time' person.
**
still coming off my high from the fall tv season openers, i was excited to hear Terry's interview with Tracey Morgan. It was a long day, and I knew the laughs would distract me from thinking about how to resolve a $26.00 payment dispute from 2006.
**
Well, i was right in that it was totally distracting. Distracting in that the tears were flooding my vision and causing me to swerve recklessly into the passing lane.
**
I'm not going to try and explain or dissect the interview but I will say that it was easily one of the most surprising and compelling pieces of radio that i have heard in a long long time.
**
also, he called his parents 'mommy' and 'daddy' and it felt totally right.
**
This morning, I got the laughter I wasn't expecting when I turned on WWDTM with Not My Job guest, Brian Williams. This guy is hysterical. I mean, seriously. He made a joke about balloon boy and Jiffy Pop and, though I had heard it said before, his delivery was perfection.
**
Also, he has great taste in music and writes a spiffy little blog about it.
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/30622506/
**
around 9:30 this morning, I did my ritual check-in on facebook. they've been doing some weird stuff lately - like changing the feed around to show popular stuff vs recent stuff. they also started showing the strangest Friend Suggestions, people I don't know who don't know anyone I know and some who literally don't know anyone at all (as in, they have zero friends).
**
today, however, i saw the saddest thing of all:

"She only has 18 friends" - She only has 18 friends?! is facebook suddenly the ruler of appropriate friend levels - do they know how many friends someone is supposed to have? in real life, i don't even have 8 friends. jeez.
**
but why cry at this, you ask? because this is my mommy.

it's time to admit...

2009-08-31T20:23:00.003-04:00

...i have no sense of direction. literally and figuratively.
...i am jealous of happy-looking teenagers.
...i could never be a writer, because i love procrastination too much.
...i judge most what i hate in myself.
...i love most what i can never have.
...i was much smarter when i was younger.
...i have no idea what i'm doing in this life.
...i'm thrown to my knees in amazement every single day.
...my main insight into things is that others have more insight.
...i have an insatiable desire to know how people work.
...i'll always want to ask just one more question.
...i'm only afraid of three things: mummies, bombs, and abandonment.
...i could sleep for 18 hours a night, but only end up sleeping 3.
...i feel guilty when i don't have something funny to write about.
...i sat here for 5 minutes questioning whether or not to publish this post.

oprah, i was with you up to the very end...

2009-07-22T22:17:00.004-04:00

for the past year, a friend of mine has been convinced that her husband is cheating on her. for the same length of time, i've marveled at the fact that stories like this really do happen in real life. wives get paranoid, anonymous letters are sent, pictures are found. this is not just a perrotta/hornby novel.
**
so, anyway, she emails me to tell me that she took oprah's quiz and that hubbs is definitely a cheater.
now, that's pretty much the bottom line for me. if oprah says it's true - find a good lawyer.
**
but i was curious, and i looked up oprah's quiz, thinking maybe i could memorize the questions so i'd know what to look for in the lucky chance i meet someone, get married, fall into a rut, get suspicious, find no evidence, and decide the best way to get to the bottom of the issue is to ask oprah.
**
the questions are sort of basic and not really those i would call red flags to anything more than low self-esteem, or the normal trappings of domestication (though I suppose the normal trappings most often lead to cheating so what do i know?)

"I believe my husband feels he values/appreciates me"
"I believe my husband finds me physically attractive."
**
i'll get to the point, though, because i'm tired of this story already.
the last question is this:
'My husband attends organized religious services regularly"

I swear I don't know how the answer to this question will effect the outcome. i mean, my first gut reaction was to think, 'wow, oprah must be on to something here. if the guy's headed to church all the time it must be because a) the hot ladies always go to church and/or b) he's feeling insanely guilty.'
the my second thought was, 'oh, they probably think a god fearing man is less likely to cheat.'
my third thought was, 'oprah, you're an idiot!'
i immediately felt like i should wash my thoughts out with soap. i'm sure oprah didn't write that quiz.
**
but seriously, is it just me? does this seem like a totally normal question to be used in scaling the probability of infidelity? should i be more weirded out by the fact that there is such a quiz?
**
hubbs is cheating, by the way. oprah said it, and then finally so did he.
i'm not happy about this at all - but my faith in oprah is restored.

all i ask...

2009-06-26T22:07:00.000-04:00

is that my brain not explode in the middle of the night.
here's hoping.

my ipod is so wise...

2009-06-22T18:17:00.002-04:00

according to my ipod,
Love is...

a battlefield
a deserter
a rose
all around
always lovely in the end
everything
for lovers
here to stay
innocent
just a four letter word
stronger than justice
the new feel awful.

pay no attention to the time stamp in the corner

2009-06-22T17:21:00.003-04:00

i am not currently blogging at work, shirking my duties.
seriously.
i'm not.
**
sometimes i wonder if there's a price to be paid for sharing your internal dialogue with the rest of the world. at the least it's sort of presumptuous but presuming things has never been a problem for me.
i suppose i'm more concerned with perception - how much of a clown can you allow yourself to be and still expect people to respect you? how much truth is just enough?
**
if you admit that you're afraid of what people think of you, doesn't that automatically make them think of you poorly? paranoia is so unattractive.
**
there have been two times in my life that I have been called a "toxic friend". The first was during high school, via a letter from a camp friend. It didn't really hit me in any meaningful way because I always viewed our relationship as sort of transient.
The second was in college, and I was completely exposed and confused and seriously fucking pissed.
**
That's such a buzz word, right? "Toxic friend". It belongs right up there with I'm Ok, You're Ok and the Here and Now and Free Hugs.
**
I've recounted the path this relationship took almost every month for the past 10 years.
I know.
Totally pathetic.
**
Yesterday I was feeling very action-oriented and I thought "bull by the horns, molly" went into the bookstore and scanned for a book on how to find the things about me that were "toxic" and how to, well, detoxify myself.
Shelves and shelves of fucking books about how to dump an abusive husband, wife, friend. how to deal with a demeaning boss, even a "When Your Lover Turns Toxic". but not one single book for the actual 'toxin'.
As if we don't feel outcast enough.
**
if it happens a third time, i'm writing the book.
"So, You Think You're Toxic."
**
re-read Ferdinand last night. love that book.

just a moment ago, it had a purpose

2009-06-14T22:35:00.004-04:00

this one's going to be short because i'm drained for a long day -
**
today was my grandmother's 90th birthday and we celebrated with brunch. when we brought out the cake and sang, she started crying and i realized how strange it must be to not have the man that stood by her, singing this song for sixty three years.
he's been gone a few weeks now, and i don't suspect she has enough days left in her life to get comfortable with the idea of his absence.
**
i drove her home to long island, and went inside to pick up some cds - my grandfather was an avid music lover; jazz, classical, opera. I filled three trash bags of cds. as i was going through the cases i noticed that one was empty - a benny goodman album. my grandmother looked perplexed for a moment, knowing grandpa would never leave something out of place. then, with a sense of conviction she walked into the back room and came back holding a portable cd player. She flipped it open and inside was the cd.
"This is what he was listening to," she said, "in the hospital. This was the last music he heard."
I closed the player and put the jewel case back in the rack.
**
it struck me then, as i thought of him dying in that hospital bed, of all the moments we leave behind when we go. all the moments we mark. the papers we disturb, the seat cushions we indent, the letters we start to write. in today's modern circumstances, the emails drafted but never sent.
**
i always imagined that the hardest part would be to give away the clothes, clean out the closet, the attic. but i think, now i think that would be the easiest of an impossible situation. for me, the pain would live in removing the handwritten note from the refrigerator door, emptying out the half drunken glass of water, washing the pillowcases and the sheets.
**
the moments of disturbance; put back into order. that, to me, is heartbreak.

i was totally expecting a box of cookies...

2009-06-13T00:09:00.002-04:00

i can't explain it. i just thought i had one coming to me today. can't say i'm not disappointed.
**
i'm going to be brief about this next part, maybe someday i'll feel like talking about it more. in the past 3 weeks i've lost two friends to suicide. just when i think my heart can't break anymore, it does.
i've been working a lot and writing and making music and pretty much anything to keep my mind active.
**
that's enough about that.
**
the other day, on the train, a girl was filing her nails. i looked around me for a sharp object with which to stab her when the old man sitting next to her said, "Miss, that's not a very polite thing to do in public." i waited for the cheers, and ticker tape to fall, as this man was clearly a hero. She sneered and put her file away in her bag.
**
so satisfying.
**
i'm 31, and for the first time in say, six years, i have a full-on, total, sophmoric, junior high school crush.
and i thought the cats made me pathetic.
**
you know what's weird? the phrase "mine as well". or is it "mind as well"? I'm pretty sure it's the former and i'm definitely sure that it's weird either way.
**
i'm excited that weeds is back for the season, but i really with mary louise parker would just chill out on the nose wiggling. just a little bit. scale back, you know?
**
my mother sent me a pandora station. broadway showtunes. and elvis.
mom's are awesome.

somehow, that's comforting...

2009-05-26T21:09:00.002-04:00

i put many miles between my home and i this weekend. physical miles, mental miles. tire treads are worn.
**
my parents are selling the house i was raised in (the house i was born in) and on sunday, i went upstate to collect the remaining memories from the attic.
my dad and my sister were talking about her childhood and they were debating whether or not it was a happy one. which is a COMPLETELY ridiculous debate to have with someone, but this is typical of our family. and just as typical i interjected, asking my father if he thought i had a happy childhood. almost defiantly he laughed, "you had a wonderful childhood. a very happy childhood." i stood up and went to the bathroom.
**
as i was closing the door my stepmother poked her head in and said, "for what it's worth, you had a shitty childhood."
**
three hours later, we packed up our things and left. though we were supposed to stay the night, a small argument over some family video tapes had silently escalated to a fury so rich, my lungs refused to expand inside those walls.
**
it's not something i'm ready to deal with, so i'm just pretending it didn't happen at all.
**

things i never thought i'd see...but did

2009-04-24T21:43:00.002-04:00

a friend washing her hands in a toilet
**
that's it.
**
work has been pretty crazed lately. i fluctuate between being in love and being exhausted, but i suppose neither of those are terrible places to be. i wonder when the love will wear off and it will only be exhaustion. it's only been four months so i should probably pace myself.
**
i've been pretty pensive lately and then I feel like writing about it, but it seems so serious and not fun and who wants to read such seriousness? it's a fucking problem.
**
here's something i've been thinking about. I'm not afraid of being alone now, i'm only afraid of being alone at some point in the future. i mean, right now i do alone pretty well. for all the talking that i do (and believe me, i'm a fucking train with words) there's something so satisfying about silence. it's sort of the perfect truth.
**
i think i'm still hungover.
i'm going to bed.

and then it's the morning

2009-04-23T09:53:00.002-04:00

i woke up in a foul mood. it's a few hours later and i'm still feeling pretty foul.
**
you know how kids can be devastated by something and with a goofy smile or stupid sound you can completely change their perspective on the day? i don't think you're supposed to have this kind of trigger as an adult. clearly someone forgot to tell my insides.
**

things that have made me cry recently, but first a random story

2009-04-23T00:29:00.005-04:00

the other night i was talking to dewie and at some point, when talking about people complaining about one thing or another, i said, "they just need to buck it up." dewie was like, "buck up? i don't think they're in a bad mood, i think they're just complaining." "No," I said, "buck it up. You've never heard the phrase buck it up?" I was incredulous. literally.
just now i realized that the phrase is definitely not buck it up.
it's, obviously, suck it up.
idiot.
**

having gone through years of my life crying and falling apart without knowing why, i've gotten used to collecting tearful memories without having memories of anything more than the actual tears.
but now that i'm feeling remotely sane, there are actual THINGS that make me cry. And some of those things are embarrassingly dumb. like almost too embarrassing to put down in a blog that nobody reads.
but i'm just sort of bold that way.
**
1. Extreme Makeover: Home Edition - two episodes in which people were dead or dying

2. The Biggest Loser - I know. I have no words.

3. Work - I had to write this paper and suddenly I felt like I was in High School, in AP History thinking "How do these people think I'm smart enough to be in AP History? How did I fool them all? I'm fucked." My paper was on Thoreau (my paper for school, not for work - thank god - could you imagine having to write about Thoreau for work? I'm crying just thinking about it. i guess that can go on the list, too.)

4. Tripping over the ottoman - This just happened about twenty minutes ago. And to be fair, I didn't really cry, I just cursed and screamed and maybe teared up a little. but just a little. like one or two tears. maybe three.

5. Wedding invitation - and before you go and think how sweet it is that I was so happy for the lucky couple, I'd like to introduce myself. "Hi, I'm Molly and I may not be good at AP History but I'm really good at feeling sorry for myself." don't get me wrong, i don't need marriage. but is it so wrong to ask for like a hand to hold? After a few weeks spent dealing with the probability that I'm paranoid, my therapist and I have moved on to this latest topic, that I'm unlovable. ok, now wait. just stop. stop with the "oh, molly, shut up" or "oh, molly, shut the fuck up" or whatever else you're thinking. this is not me being melodramatic (well, actually, it totally is me being melodramatic, but still).

6. The Biggest Loser - you might be thinking that I messed up and put this up on the list twice by mistake. well, you'd be wrong. two separate episodes, two separate nights, two absolute snotfests.
**
all in all a pretty sappy couple of weeks.
**

if i don't make it, tell my parents i love them: blackberry edition

2009-04-19T22:12:00.001-04:00

The situation:
5 30 train home from the city. Fucking crowded. Apparently a lot of Mets fans are on their way to a game (where is Shea anyway?) Or on their way home after a game (why the fuck do so many mets fans live in connecticut?)

To my left is this salt and peppery jew reading what I thought was the new yorker (brainy, mysterious) but was actually New York magazine (I'm sort of interested in cultural things). Then. The foot starts shaking. Not for any particular reason (he's not listening to music) just shaking his foot nervously up and down.

Turn away, you say? And turn away I do. And there I find...
Old portly man listening to his mp3s which are apparently ROCKING because his foot is tapping like keith moon's. Straight forward I can see both, one in each corner, and of course it would be too much to ask that they magically were maintaining the same rhythm.
**
Wait! Late breaking news! As I was writing the last part someone sat next to the nervous shaker, and has blocked the obstruction. Ah, sweet relief... For approximately 39 seconds. The new guy is a floppy head.
**
Do you think agoraphobes are all afraid of people or is it just that everything they do drives them absolutely insane.
It worries me sometimes.

well, i'm glad you asked: The List

2009-04-18T18:41:00.002-04:00

there have been a bunch of questions weighing on my mind.
**
-- Does anyone actually like the sound of someone else whistling?
-- What's up with the floppy heads when people are falling asleep sitting up? It's one of the more annoying motions one notices peripherally is a small space, say, a train. Just lean back, or on your shoulder, or better yet, just flop forward. You never see anyone flopping their head back - if it's inevitable you mine as well skip to the actually sleeping.
-- If I read the new book about Columbine would it be because it's gripping journalism a la In Cold Blood, or because it's one extended human interest story a la People magazine? More importantly, what will other people think?
-- Would it be wrong to spend $1,000 for one lunch with Paul Rudd? Would you be convinced if I said I did it mostly because it was for a great cause? That doesn't sound much like me, does it...
-- My mom is turning 60 next week and I am currently thirty, and even though I understand that this is not true, sometimes i get confused as to how this year I'm half her age, but I never will be again.
-- Sometimes people see pictures of my niece and assume she's mine (like, for example, the guy who waters the plants in my office). Part of me thinks it's insane that people could possibly think I could currently be mother to a four year old. Then I realize that these people don't actually know me and probably assume that I could easily be a mother of a four year old, as many women my age are. I, of course, am still convinced that I'm 15.
-- I'm really good at dishing it out, but sometimes have problems taking it. luckily the people around me have no trouble helping me face my problems.
-- my grandfather is in the hospital. he was in for a while, and then he went home, and he didn't do well at home, so now he's back in the hospital. he's not going home again.
-- when i was young i was really close to both of my aunts. today, i don't speak to one, and the other i see maybe once a year. i really hope that doesn't happen with me and abby.
**
this list got way too serious for a saturday night. sangria is dangerous that way.
**

is this what horrid embarrassment feels like?

2009-04-04T15:59:00.003-04:00

there's a few stories that i have stored up, and i'm probably not going to get to them all, so i needed to prioritize and this one made it to the top for two reasons. 1. It happened on my commute, and apparently some people have an affinity towards my MTA adventures, and 2. it involves falling in front of a large group of people.
***
i always thought it was really weird how people could fall asleep on the train. all those people around, sitting so close, there's no way to get comfortable when you're actively contracting your shoulder blades into your neck.

after two nights at the pod hotel, a crazed day at work and a heated argument with the shrink (yes i'm self-conscious, and yes i'm self-involved, and yes i'm self-conscious about being self-involved, but i don't see how this makes me "conflicted and paranoid") i hopped on the 8:20 train to connecticut.

**
The train was packed for that late on a weeknight. I took my time deciding between the outside seat in the knee to knee four-seater (think diner booth with your portly out-of-town cousins), or the inside of a two-seater against the wall (think corner of an elevator at 9am on a monday in a movie about high powered business).
Both had high stranger touching probability, so ultimately my decision was dictated by which was furthest from the bathroom (elevator).
**
All the way into Harlem I tried to remember if I parked my car in Stamford or South Norwalk. (Dunkin' Donuts and an egg sandwich - stamford, or iced coffee and a hard boiled egg - south norwalk.)
Then, with Ira whispering about the recession in my ear, I fell asleep.

**
The train was stopped when I opened my eyes. because i was sitting next to the wall and not the window i strained my neck to see the outside surroundings. Shiny railing, huge parking garage in the distance - stamford. shit! stamford! Dunkin' Donuts and an egg sandwich!
I stood up with a jerk, my ipod - previously nested in my lap - crashed to the ground.
"It this your stop?," said my outside neighbor.
In way of an answer, I tripped over her feet into the aisle.
This is when things went from ridiculous to you tube clip.
**
My entire left leg, from thigh to pinky toe, was completely and utterly asleep. My first thought was that my outside neighbor had amputated my leg ('I should have taken the diner booth! More people around, witnesses to protect me).
I take one step down towards the door and my leg crumbled under me, resulting in a face plant on the floor, shiny with shoe bottom.
My outside neighbor, "Push the button! Push the button!" The button to which she was referring is an emergency bell button on the ceiling of the car, used to alert the conductor that some idiot forgot to get off the train.
**
I stood back up on my good leg, took a little hop, shook my left side and tried again.
The floor and I met again.
"Push the fucking button!" said the lady. I think that she now thought I was dying. The button is probably for people who forgot to get off the train and also for people who are dying.
I heard the bell and knew that someone finally obeyed.
**
Third try: i wasn't taking any chances and pulled my foot in, dragging it behind me like Kevin Spacey in Usual Suspects.
**
I get to the door just as I hear the conductor say over the loud speaker, "What idiot takes three minutes to get off the train?" Little did he know I was the idiot that takes three minutes trying to get off the train. I still had the issue of "the gap".
Pulling my foot up with my left hand, I did a powerful hopscotch onto the platform, as the train doors closed behind me.
**
i stood one-legged on the platform as the train rode off towards Darien. the numbness turned to porcupines which turned back to the "i have two legs" feeling we take for granted.
then i went to find my car.
**
i should tell you that you may, at some point in the future, hear me tell this story - but when i do, i might add this ending:
"and that's when it hit me: it was iced coffee and a hard boiled egg... shit."
i don't think that's lying though, because i've put the truth out there as well. and that cancels out the lie. Right?

2/10/1990

2009-03-22T22:45:00.002-04:00

this is a transcription from my 7th grade journal. my 7th grade school journal.
we were often given subjects from which to pull inspiration.
the subject of this entry:
The Dominant Primordial Beast
**
wtf
**

Blackness, bleak, cold
it surrounds my bare body.
My blood dripping, flowing
from my wrists staining my
skin. I am at the peak of
glory. I, above all, now see
how life is meaningless.
I dance in the moonlight,
talking to the devil waiting,
waiting for my end.
I fall to my knees feeling
the weakness upon me tugging
tugging at my soul. I feel it
coming as I lay on my back.
One last breath and
I'm gone, gone and all that
is left is my motionless body
laying there on the cold, winter
night.
**
seriously, um, i just don't know.

OH MY GOD, I HATE YOU!

2009-03-20T13:44:00.003-04:00

last night i was riding the metro north home after enjoying some fish and chips with shirley. i was working on this insane crossword where entire LETTERS were missing from the answers! I mean, that's just crazy.
so, as you can imagine, i was hard at work when i hear this sort of 'tin ting da tin tin tang' coming from my seat partner (who, by the way, had just finished eating the entire mcdonald's dollar menu - you should not be allowed to eat fast food in enclosed spaces). I look over, and see that he's listening to music on his iPhone....without headphones! but wait. it's weirder. he didn't want to turn it up (because that would have been obnoxious.) Instead, he had the thing right up to his ear - not like he was talking on it, but like he was literally trying to fit it into his head diagonally.
**
you're wishing i had a picture, aren't you.
**
I DO!
I'm really bummed though because he switched ears on me while I was setting up, and the picture sort of looks like he's just talking on the phone. but believe me when I tell you that this is not the case.

**
i suppose the sad part of this story is that the 'tin ting da tin tin tang' annoyed me less than seeing him holding his phone all goofy. I tried not to look but when I turned away I could see his reflection and i'd get all riled up again.
I mean, do you really need to listen to something SO BADLY that you're willing to shove a phone up your ear? can't you just sing a song in your head?

seriously. what is wrong with that guy?
**
i'm going to get back on track with my twice-a-weeks.
starting
**
now.

maybe you don't quite understand what the seasons are all about

2009-03-01T22:47:00.002-05:00

quick refresher:
March = no more snow. pretty fucking simple.
**
if you ever get confused, please refer to the above.
**
at some point during this past week i got really annoyed with myself. and it was the weirdest thing because, though i've often been annoyed at myself for stupid things i've done or forgotten to do, this was the first time i've felt general annoyance about the general state of my general self. like, i saw myself from the outside and thought, "oh my god, she is so fucking annoying!" and nothing i did made it any better. in fact, most of what i did made it decidedly worse.
**
here's a list of things that i do that are so annoying, and right when i'm doing them i know they're annoying but still for some reason do them:
1. interrupt people (with whom i'm in a one on one or group setting) - in order to continue on their thought path
2. interrupt people (with whom i'm in a one on one or group setting) - in order to go on a completely different thought path
3. interrupt people (who are in a group setting of which i am not a part)
4. say "fuck you" when someone makes a joke at my expense that i know is true
5. ramble on and on without ever reaching a specific point - and ending the ramble with "does that make sense" or "do you get what I'm saying" - hoping maybe they'll be explain back to me what the fuck i was talking about
6. go to say hello to someone (this is generally a work thing) and they're with someone or on the phone and standing there awkwardly and inside i'm actually feeling really embarrassed for a reason i couldn't possibly explain, so i just stand there smiling or doing some stupid dance.
7. talk really loudly
8. constant need to know what's going on. this goes back to when i was a little kid and i absolutely refused to go to bed because i knew all the good shit went down after dark. i remember having fights with my dad about it. now, years later, we have the same struggle with aj and being on the other side of it i'm totally right. all the good shit DOES happen after dark.
**
i'd say that's a pretty good start. i'm hoping i don't annoy myself so much this week because it's just not as much fun as finding myself witty, and jovial, and wry.
**
uuuugh. even that sentence annoys me. i'm fucked.

yeah, yeah, i know all about that whole "what happens there, stays there" thing

2009-02-17T20:32:00.004-05:00

that's right. vegas.
**
i was there from thursday - sunday. and there's just not a chance that i'm not going to tell you (my vast audience of devoted readers) about it.
i mean, here's the thing. all the best shit happens in vegas. i can't afford to not take advantage of every good story that comes my way. i'm not interesting enough to be able to just not tell good stories - regardless of where they happened.
if you can go to vegas, come back, and not tell anyone about it, well, you must lead an insanely interesting life or your friends think you're boring as shit.
**
here's the best part. after that preamble i sort of stared at my fingers waiting for them to decide which story of debauchery they were going to tell first. and they were basically like, 'Oh, should we tell them about that yummy breakfast or how about the view from the hotel room?'
What happened in vegas doesn't even need to stay there because it's not scandalous at all!
**
day one: i had an appointment at the tattoo parlor at 1pm, and our flight got in at noon so i basically had no time. we checked into the hotel, i took an 8 second shower, and hopped a cab to Studio 21 (about 15 minutes off the strip). i got there, completely out of breath, but on time.
i walk in, and they're like, 'oh hi. jason is running behind so it's gonna be another hour or so.' vegas is not off to a good start. because i just spent $17 on a cab and i was out in the middle of nowhere, i decided to hang around in the strip mall where the parlor was located. i went into this local dive, where they had video poker machines in the tables, and ordered the crazy breakfast that was surprisingly awesome (and only $8).
finally i walk back over and i'm told that my tattoo is all drawn up. jason comes out with a drawing.......that is completely different from what i spent about 1/2 hour explaining i actually wanted. there was confusion, foot shuffling, lots of umss, errs, and then jason walked off. a few minutes later, the girl in the front said, 'jason is having a rough day, maybe you should come back tomorrow?' she didn't have to ask me twice because there's one thing i don't want to experience - a bummed out tattoer with a gun in his hand.
so, it was back to the strip.
**
day one, part two: i immediately won a few hundred on craps. i love craps for two reasons: 1. you can win a ton of money, and 2. if you know how to play you sound really cool and confident. in case you can't tell, I'm actually more fond of reason #2.
Throwing those chips down the table yelling "all the hard ways" "five on the hi/lo" "gimme two on yo" "C and E" it says, 'I've been places, i've seen things, i'm not afraid to live on the edge'. it also says, 'i'm an idiot and will likely lose an obscene amount of money' but only to people who aren't playing craps and who the hell cares about those people.
**
day one, part three: after losing $50 on video poker (it's seriously fun. seriously) i dropped all my winnings at craps. i did, however, win the dealers $75, and was pretty confident that karma would help me out later.
i was right. after a short stint at a 2/4 limit table (i was there supporting bern, who having never played at a casino table was a little "gun shy". it was the most painful experience of the entire weekend, bar the 4.5 hour tattoo marathon. but seriously, just slightly less painful) i went back to my ol' stand by, and rolled in around $450.
**
the motivation i had to tell this story has significantly dwindled since i started writing this post two weeks ago and it's now march and it's snowing and we're supposed to maybe get 14" and somehow a blow by blow of vegas just doesn't sound that interesting.
but here are a few things i'll jot down for posterity sake:

1. Please do yourself a favor and go have a meal at Picasso if you can. And while you're at it, pay the extra hundred for the Kobe beef because you'll never have to worry about dying without having tasted the best bite of meat - if, of course, that is something you worry about.

2. Also do yourself the favor of having a meal at Rosemary's. The cab is going to set you back a bit since it's about 20 minutes off the strip, but if you're lucky you'll get Yanni from Lucky Cab's on the ride home and you'll get to hear this awesome story (note, this is the EXACT thing that happened to us, only from last year. i'm being efficient by not actually reblogging.)

3. Jason from Studio 21 ended up being a pretty awesome dude - he chided me for my posture and was a little put off by my sudden outburst of tears - yes, i started crying. i don't know why, because it wasn't any more painful than any of my other ink. at one point i made a comment about the music and the needle on my back was "my personal hell" - i don't think he appreciated that so much. but then we started talking about religion and that, surprisingly, left things on a good note.

4. I think my Vegas Billy Joel concert was a farewell of sorts. i've seen him enough times now to know his shtick and i don't want to lose my love for the man who's songs are on every mix tape i ever made til the time i was 15.

5. Cirque de Soleil is totally overpriced and totally worth it.

6. The girls at Spearmint Rhino like to give out their phone numbers (I have two of them programmed into my phone.) If you're curious about this, I mean, I think it's because i talk to them about their lives and what they do when they're not on the pole. that seems to make the difference.
**
that's it. i've broken the rules. there's a few things i've kept to myself but only because they're really really boring.
**
one of these days i'm going to do something so awesome and incredible that i can't tell anyone about it. and you'll be the first one to know.

maybe your (insert product here) hates you.

2009-02-04T17:50:00.004-05:00

on tuesday, i went to a pitch for work - the client was looking for a new agency.
i was pretty excited because it was my first new business pitch and because i enjoy business travel as it makes me feel important.
**
the mistakes i made prior to this excursion were this:
1. sunday i drank a six bottles of cider and/or beer. then i drank much of a bottle and 1/2 of prosecco. then i crashed on adidas's' couch.
2. monday, wearing sunday's clothes, i worked through the day - getting everything ready for tuesday. at 8pm i went to dinner with some co-workers and a visiting vendor. then i went out for a glass of wine. then i ended up having between 5 and 7 more glasses. then it was 3am and i crashed at shirley's.
**
so, on tuesday, still in sunday's clothes, shirley and i stumble our way into a car to go to manhattan to meet another car to take us to our pitch. when we got to the office i was delighted by a sweater and a pair of jeans i had left their unknowingly. i was able to change and not feel like a total skeevy grosswad (just so you're not totally skeeved right now, i did take a shower during this time, as well as replenishing my delicates at CVS).
**
like i said, i was excited. horribly tired and hung over, but excited. i was going to present what i thought was the best part of the whole presentation. the ideas. it was going to be epic. it was going to be like a shockwave - these people were going to stand up or fall over or start speaking in tongues.
**
something that sucks about wanting to tell a really good story on a completely public forum is the requirement that you not reveal any of the information that would, in fact, make it a good story. so, akin to Tenacious D's tune TRIBUTE, this is an EXAMPLE of how things played out:

It started off with a teaser ad that I didn't even present. The client has a store that sells coffee makers. In the ad a was person drinking a cup of coffee in their kitchen. They were making this face like, 'This coffee is AWFUL.' the ad said, "Bad Coffee? Maybe Your Coffee Maker Hates You."
**
I'll let it sit with you for a minute. Funny, right? At least mildly amusing?
well, let's just say

crickets.
**
i knew right there and then that it was NOT going to be pretty. i looked over a shirley in desperation but she was in the throws of her own meltdown, because she thought her part went badly (which it didn't). then i looked over at dewie, hoping for a nod or an eye roll or a "We can stop this meeting right now, because it's clear you people don't have any personality whatsoever and we're not going to waste our awesomeness on people who won't appreciate it."
not so much of any of those things actually happened.
**
it's my turn. i sit up in my chair. i lean in towards to projected image.
'Ok, picture this. Here's a famous, hip guy who LOVES coffee. He is like known for loving coffee. The only thing he is known for more than coffee is being famous and hip. He is going to come to your store and do a show and talk to the crowd and help you sell some coffee makers!'
**

**
you know nathan's hot dog eating contest? well, let's have a coffee drinking tournament!
**

**
'So, here's something. How crazy is it that people buy coffee makers online? You don't want them buying online you want them to come to your store. So, we create this whole campaign where you're asked to smell and/or taste coffee through your computer. At first you're all like, "huh?" and then you realize, "oh, duh, that can't happen." and the tag of the campaign, '________________ real world.' (I can't put the whole thing here. if you're pissed/confused, refer to earlier in the post.
**
i fell into a half-sleep on the drive back to the city with dewie and valentine.
**
i was so sure that this was going to catapult me into the spotlight. this was going to be the moment when all stars would align and i would realize that my calling in life was to pitch good ideas.
well, fuck aligning stars. seriously, like how boring would the sky be if all the stars were in one lame ass row.
**
one of the ideas that i had a hand in ideaing (and, to make this perfectly clear, it wasn't ALL my idea - are you happy, Shirley?) is actually going to be happening.
i can't tell you anything about it.
but trust me.
it's awesome.

some things are meant to be hole-free

2009-01-30T16:31:00.002-05:00

i have this poster hanging in my office. it's a poster that makes me really happy.
it's a tree that is also a man, and it has a face and legs. it's actually a poster made for a Low show from 1996. it's a limited edition. it's colored in with a silver paint pen - the kind where you shake it and it goes 'click clack click'.
**
so this poster is hung carefully on the wall, with tacks holding the edges - the tacks aren't actually in the poster, they're just in the wall, using pressure to keep the paper tight against the sheet rock.
**
my new friend adidas came in to say hello (i will tell you more about my new friend adidas later, because i know you're all shocked and amazed that i have a new friend). so he came in to say hey, and he started playing with the tack in the wall. the edge of the poster came free and sort of curled up, flapping in the wind.
**
adidas was telling me some story, mindlessly twirling the tack around when suddenly, with this great fervor (i mean really, it was this massive force that i'd never seen applied to a tack before) he pushed the tack straight through the poster.
**
i know what you're thinking. you're thinking i completely freaked out. lost my shit. started to cry or scream or both.
**
i think my first words were, "Oh my god adidas." then, language failed me completely. but, i was able to compose myself (this is mosugs 2009 baby, she's all about composure) and said, "it's not a big deal." and it wasn't. because i just decided it wasn't.
**
adidas clearly felt bad and got all frowny and said, "oh no, now you're going to blog all about me and how i ruined your poster."
if that's not an invitation, i don't know what is.
**
so, adidas, i can't fucking believe you put a goddamn hole in my special poster. but, it's hard to find a friend in this city so you're off the hook (except for the totally annoying nickname i will now use as your moniker, in perpetuity.)

splitting up lists into more list creates a multitude of lists

2009-01-28T18:43:00.003-05:00

like i said yesterday, i'm continuing with the revealing insights behind my 25 Random Things About Me List from facebook.
**
before that, though, i would just like to say that, in a meeting today, i almost said the word necrophilia in place of narcolepsy (and then, because i started laughing at myself, had to explain what had happened. so i ended up saying necrophilia anyway.)
also, i ate a bowl of golden grahams last night and, in a depressing turn of events, discovered that they are not as good as i remember.
**
11. I once worked at a vet's office and one of my duties was cutting the head's off of dead cats. prilly didn't think i should even put this one, and i actually think it's the most interesting item on the list. the story goes - i grew up in rural small town usa and, as a result of an increased occurrence of rabies, many animals had to be put down. during a rabies epidemic, all animals suspected of the disease need to be tested (so the outbreak can be tracked). rabies lives in the brain, and therefore only the head is needed for testing. sending the whole animal would be unnecessary and not at all cost-efficient. so....

12. I always have to count stairs when I go up or down. one of a few OCD symptoms that have actualized over the years. i actually think it has more to due with my natural curiosity about rhythm and symmetry and less about being crazy.

13. Every time I walk into a CVS I'm convinced that I will find the product that will, at long last, make my life better. I usually end up buying said product and find my life to be basically the same but with a slightly lighter wallet. i've written a song about this, which i sing when i'm strolling down the well-lit aisles of beauty products. i need a different song, i think, for my quarterly ritual of throwing away barely used bottles of liquids and potions and waxes that did not, in fact, clear up, smooth out, shine, sheen, and polish anything.

14. At summer camp one year, I jumped into the swimming pool with my bra on underneath my bathing suit. in order to explain this fully, i'd have to get into some things that i'm just not going to get into - lets just say that yes, other people were there and yes, they noticed and yes, they asked me why i was wearing a bra in the swimming pool and yes, i tried my best to come up with some excuse that seemed plausible and yes, they all knew that i was full of shit.

15. I find that there's something really attractive about receding hairlines and lazy eyes (and no, I'm not kidding.) someone, somewhere has to agree with me on this.

16. If someone near me is making any repetitive motion (ie, swinging their leg, tapping their foot, twiddling their fingers) I have to situate myself so I cannot see them, even in my peripheral vision. Sometimes I use my hand like those things they put on horses. what i didn't say here is that, not only do i have to reposition myself, but if i - after much moving - can still see them, i start to get irritated, which turns into anger, which turns into almost abusive madness. then, even if i try and close my eyes, i see the movement through my lids. i can't escape it. i think 'stop stop stop stop stop stop stop' hoping that, just this once, ESP would work on anyone who wants it really bad.

17. Whenever I see a limo, I'm sure that someone very famous is inside and that, perhaps, if I look busy and important they'll flag me down and....that's basically where the fantasy ends. In the past, looking busy meant picking up my cell phone and pretending to check messages or something. i SWEAR i don't do this anymore.

18. I don't get into as much new music as I used to. this is just sort of a sad fact. i used to be way cooler.

19. In elementary school I pretended to be deaf - it spiraled quickly out of control. this deserves its very own post. believe me, it's worth it.

20. If, at gun point, I was forced to name the thing that annoys me more than all other things, it would be nose whistling. what makes this even more painful is that it can easily be stopped by simply snurfing! now, i'm sure you've guessed that i can't stand snurfing either, but if given the option, i would certainly choose one loud snurf over a multitude of rhythmic nose whistles.

21. I had 14 tattoos until someone told me that what I was considering as two should only, in fact, be one because I got them at the same time (one on each foot). In any case, I don't - as of yet - regret any of them. after speaking this over with a third party, i'm back to 14. and i lied, because there is one that i sort of regret.

22. My niece calls me Manana, and not because she couldn't pronounce my name. We forced it on her because I wanted a nickname (see #4 above) it's a reference from the tv show FRIENDS and i have no shame in admitting that (at least not on this blog)

23. If asked, I say I'm an ardent dog lover. I try to hide the fact that I somehow ended up with two cats and zero dogs. i love my cats but they're so fucking annoying.

24. I start a new business (in my head) at least once a day. i hate that ideas alone don't get shit done. hate it hate it hate it.

25. I love living alone, but am afraid of dying that way. not in that sort of disconnected fear way, but in a literal empty room, empty apartment not found for several days way. sometimes i think 'if i die right now, when will people know? is what circumstance will the first person think, "where the heck is mosugs?"' luckily, i have a sister who is about as paranoid as i am, so it probably wouldn't take very long.
**
at 6pm the heat in our office building gets shut off.
at 7pm people turn up their speakers and a cacophony of trip-hop, jazz, and G n' R can be heard.
at 8pm it's so cold that people are wearing their scarves and coats.
at 9pm someone working late upstairs comes down and acts all surprised that people are still working because they thought they were the only ones left.
at 10pm everyone says to everyone else, 'why the hell are you STILL HERE?'.
at 11pm you're asking yourself why the hell you are still here.
at 11:03pm you realize that you haven't really accomplished much since the conversation with upstairs lady at 9pm, so you pack it up and go home.
**
ah, the things we look forward to.

and on the third week He thought, 'Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time.'

2009-01-26T15:27:00.007-05:00

that's right, folks. three weeks in.
**
yesterday, i was having a rough day - for reasons i may disclose later - and needed some candy. there's a machine in the office, and i'm not sure if i've mentioned this before but the machine has good n' plenty. two whole sections of it. as good as i can be at resisting vending machine candy (and i'm surprisingly good at it considering my general affinity towards all things sugar) i cannot, in any way, resist good n' plenty.
it was exactly what i needed at that moment.

**
i put in my dollar and pressed the buttons and the machine said "SOLD OUT". It was clearly not sold out, as I could see the row of candy right there. D9, I pushed again. "SOLD OUT" it said again. "FUCK YOU!" I said.
**
Mes told me that there was a machine on the 6th floor and that probably they would have the candy and i should calm down and go up there before i really started to freak out. so i did, and she was right. they were there. i bought a box and immediately felt the stress leaving my body.
**
when i got on the elevator to go back down, there was this guy with an extremely red face that made me think he was doing calisthenics in his office before leaving for home. he sees that i have good n' plenty in my hand and asks, 'do you know the song?'
'the good n' plenty song?'
'yes! of course! the good n' plenty song!'
I told him I didn't know it and he seemed sort of flabbergasted.
'how old are you' he asked.
'thirty'
'and you don't know the GOOD N PLENTY SONG?!?!?!'
at this point i was ready to kick him in the shins, but then he actually started singing the song. it had something to do with a train running on good n' plenty, which made no sense to me whatsoever, but his singing lasted until my floor came and i was able to policy scoot out without inflicting any bodily damage
**
apparently the folks on 6 don't appreciate their good n' plenty because the box i bought was very old and all the goods and the plentys were stale and hard.
**
there's this thing that is floating around facebook, where people write 25 random things about them and then ask other people to do the same. i spent a good three days listing things in my head that might be appropriate for the list. it was important that there be an appropriate amount of funny, witty, insightful, and honest comments - i wanted to portray my complete well-roundedness. i'm sure this in and of itself should have made it onto the list - and it did, in a somewhat edited form. looking over the list, there are actually quite a few that were phrased in a way to limit the amount of patheticness they might convey.
**
but a blog is no place for modesty, so i've decided to post my list here, and include - for blog readers only - the truth behind the numbers. since there are 25 and i think that's a lot to ingest, i've split them up for you.
**
#1-10

1. Sometimes I think about the fact that right at this second someone is having the worst moment of their life. And it makes me sad. Usually this comes when I'm driving to get cat food, or something else similarly mundane. And I'll think, 'Someone is dying right at this second.' and that will lead to, 'Someone's heart is breaking because someone is dying right at this second.' It sort of goes on from their until I get distracted by a good song or a sale on litter.

2. All I ever wanted in 7th grade was a pair of Skidz. Of course I wanted more than a pair of Skidz. Namely, I wanted the boys who wore the skidz. I think I thought that skidz were ugly, but I wasn't going to rest until I have a swerving car patch on my ass for the whole world to see.

3. Whenever I buy a lottery ticket (scratch or regular) I honestly believe that I'm going to win - and my heart breaks a little when I don't. There's nothing really to say about this one - it's true.

4. Since Carolyn tagged me in this I've been stressing over what my twenty-five things were going to be and if they were going to be funny and/or insightful enough. see above. also, look for a blooper reel in which i share with you all the things that didn't make it onto the list.

5. I stress about things no one should stress about, including:
- my family dying in the night from carbon monoxide poisoning
- if something that sounded like a joke was really a joke or if the sayer was actually being mean
- if I'm actually not very smart
- having panty lines (seriously, I don't know what it is, I just really worry about this)
I'm not sure if facebook notes have a character limit, but I'm sure this one could easily blow past it. all three of these are specific examples of things that i've thought were happening. with the first one, i couldn't get in touch with my sister one morning and after a few hours i was CONVINCED that they were dead. what is particularly interesting, i think, is that i didn't just know they were dead, but i was positive that it was from a carbon monoxide leak - though there had never been any warning of any kind that something like that might happen in their home.

6. Though I pretend to be practical, in my heart I still believe that my life could end up like a romantic comedy. In fact, I'm pretty much sure of it. There are specific movies I have in mind - Some Kind of Wonderful. The falling in love part of Brokeback Mountain. But I also make up my own, usually involving one of these two scenarios: a) a person i've known forever/from my past is going through a crisis and in the pain and struggle, we fall in love, or b)i'm on the train/subway/bus, etc. and we're reading the same book. 'Good book,' I say. 'Yes,' you say, and then we fall in love.

7. When I was in 6th grade, my best friend Sara bought me a book of 101 sexual positions and I hid it in my closet and my dad found it. That was awkward. Somehow we had gotten our hands on an Adam & Eve catalogue. It was outrageous. Along with the sexual positions book, she bought me this book of naughty stories which I guess was like a poor man's Penthouse forum. one of the sexual descriptions from that book (which my dad found as well, i might add) is with me to this day.

8. I have almost every postcard my mother wrote me during 6 years of summer camp. I also have almost every card my mother wrote me during 4 years of college, every holiday, birthday, and just random notes she's left for me over the years.

9. In 10th grade I decided I wanted a nickname so, during an all-state choral conference, I introduced myself as Mo. Many years later, in college, I was in a jazz choir, and I heard someone going, "Mo? Mo? Mo?" and I was wondering why someone was acting like a cow and then I realized it was this guy Dave from all-state and he was just saying hello after all that time and I didn't know how to tell him that my name wasn't really Mo and that nobody, outside the 9 people in all-state, called me that. I sort of avoided him the rest of the semester. I've had a series of 'identity crises' before and after this; i'm not even sure if i'm over it. though, on the other hand, how can you ever be anything other than who you are - even if you're acting like someone else?

10. Every year in high school I had to redo the mile for the physical fitness test because my first time was never fast enough. It was pathetic. it wasn't like they were asking you to do it in 7 minutes. we had 12 minutes. one mile in twelve minutes. i would get all distracted - singing, how the track material bounced under my sneakers, how if i ran to hard my belly would bounce up and down. sometimes i wonder if i could do it under time now. i think, maybe, if i tried really really hard.

**
stay tuned for tomorrows list of #11-#25, plus the bonus feature - WHAT I DID ON MY SUMMER VACATION, 1990 Edition.

adventures in babysitting (and by babysitting i mean sitting on a train with babies nearby)

2009-01-20T22:14:00.004-05:00

At the this company i used to work for, live blogging was all the rage. It was basically like "the thing you do". I thought it only for cyber geeks, the 'i'm so early i'm like the delorean with a fully equipped flux capacitor' adopters.
but then it just started popping up everywhere. it got a cooler name: status. what's your status? Hey, did you see my status? Oh, shit, I need to update my status.
and then twitter. 'i'm at the library, on the third floor.' 'i'm at the library in the stacks looking for this dumb book.' 'just saw @cindy on the fifth floor. hey cindy!'
**
often i find myself simultaneously berating and engaging in random cultural phenomena. With that in mind, i present to you:

Live Blogging from the MTA

**

8:33pm - I left my keys in the office. I never take them out of my bag but today I needed to use the nail file (and before you get all high and mighty and talk about how hypocritical I am with the whole personal hygiene thing, I sit in an office, I shut the door, and I didn't file for more than 30 seconds) Now I'm on the 8:35 train. I have a two-seater to myself which is a coup, but I won't be fully comfortable until after 125th street.
**

8:36 - As we pull away a man runs with the train. You can tell he just doesn't want to admit defeat. When I took the amtrak to DC we saw a girl desperately trying to flag down our departing train. She was sobbing and I felt really bad for her. I don't feel too bad for this guy because I think there's another train in like 10 min and had he got on mine, I'm sure he would have taken the empty seat next to me.
**

8:42 - Just avoided near disaster at 125th when a mom boarded with two kids. The empty seat configuration around me was such that I knew my two-seater was in danger. In a last second reprieve, the two kids decided to sit together. I was about to say that they're both behaving exceptionally well but one of them just started crying.
**

8:45 - the two guys sitting in the three-seater across from me just did a switch-a-roo. At first I thought mr. inside needed to go to the bathroom but then realized they were just switching sides. Then mr. outside (formally mr. inside) scooched into the middle seat and gave mr. inside (nee outside) a kiss. The old MTA scooch and smooch.
**

8:55 - there are two consistent coughers in this car. Only one is that really bad phlegmy cough where all you can imagine is strings of mucus stretching across their throat as they hack germs into the air. I would consider moving to another car but a)it's winter and I'm sure there is some statistic about the probable average of coughers per train car, which I'm assuming would land at least around 2. And b)did you not hear the part about an empty two-seater? This is solid gold. Solid New Haven Line Gold.
**

8:57 - I read in the elevator the other day that some girl sent 14000 text messages in a month. I wonder if they have a similar record for twitter (I refuse, by the way, to use the term "tweet" and use, instead, the more apt "twit") how interesting could a blow-by-blow of Lisa Anne's 4th day of tenth grade possibly be. Actually, I think I'd subscribe to that. Never mind.
**

9:04 mr. outside has alarmingly small feet.
**

9:05 - someone near me is eating some form of mexican food snack. It is making me very hungry, particularly for mexican. I think I might have tortillas, refried beans, and salsa at home. That, potentially, could be something.
**

9:07 - people at work were not as excited as I imagined they would be today. I think I was the only one wearing obama swag and I'm positive I was the only one who screamed out her window to the bike messenger below. There are a few folks on the train who you can tell are having a good day. Mostly, though, everyone looks tired.
**

9:12 - the two kids are singing some butchered duet. It is time to deploy the ipod. This is always a bit of a stress for me because now I have to choose what music to listen to. This problem usually occurs on my nightly rides home when my body is saying "listen to the lazy balazy dream squad close your eyes lullabies" but my not-body is all "DON'T DO IT! If you do, you'll fall asleep, and if you fall asleep, you'll miss your stop, and if you miss your stop, you'll end up in New Haven, and if you end up in New Haven, you'll cry, and if you cry, you'll look vulnerable, and if you look vulnerable, you'll get mugged, and if you get mugged, you'll probably get killed. And now your dead and can't listen to any music."
**

9:16 - people are starting to collect their things which means we're nearing our first stop - stamford. I find it kind of amazing that these people, even in the pitchest black of a winter night, can discern a landmark within a surprisingly barren stretch of track, and know that soon it's their stop. Please God, make sure I'm never commuting long enough to be able to sense the norwalk town borders with my nose.

9:20 - the stamford riders jumped the gun, I think, on the gathering. We're just pulling up now and I'm pretty sure it doesn't take the average person 4 minutes to collect their commuter belongings.
**

9:21 mr. inside and mr. outside are sound asleep. I wonder if I should warn them about ending up dead in new haven, but maybe they already have a plan.
**

9:22 - the train is sitting still. I hate being in a still train car. The only thing worse than a still train caris when the air in the car goes off. Well, the worst worst thing is when the train stops AND the air goes off in the car. That's when new haven starts to sound not so bad.
**

9:25 - you know what sound I love? Zippers.
**

9:27 - we're coming up on darien. The darien station looks a lot like the south norwalk station (except, I should note, for the absense of a 5 story parking garage and a local transit bus terminal. So, really, to put it another way, their commonality begins and ends with the fact that both are train stations.) Anyway, once I got off the train at Darien and tried to acclimate to my location on the platform. Strangely unfamiliar. Right before the train closed its doors I realized my error and jumped back in. I know you think this would have been a better story if I had actually missed the train, but the embarrassment of yelling "oh shit" while hoofing it back into a train car from which you make a whole production leaving was cause for much shame I felt adequately idiotic.
**

9:34 - they just called south norwalk as the next station. When I first started riding the train I would hop to the minute they announced the stop. My crazy newbie assumption was that the announcement was a first bell of sorts. A warning to be prepared to arrive at your destination very soon.
This is not the case. I haven't timed it but I'm going to say there's a good 8 minutes between announcement and deboardment (which is not a word but clearly should be). So I would be standing by the train door like an asshole, bundled up in my coat and hat and gloves, dying from the heat but not wanting to unwrap because then people will know for SURE that I thought the stop was coming up and I'd look like even more of an asshole.
**

9:39 - I'm in my car waiting for the heat to kick in. You'd think they would have figured out a better system by now - some kind of heat burst injector. Where is ron popeil when you need him?
As I got off the train, one of the kids started crying again. It woke up mr. outside. I felt sorta bad for him but then not because i remembered that the kid probably just saved mr. outside's life.

dear neighbors in 142

2009-01-19T23:39:00.002-05:00

it is currently January 19th, 2009.

you can take your wreath down from the door now.

really. it's okay. i give you permission. the world gives you permission.

my head hurts to the point where it might explode (if heads could, in fact, explode, and if they could, pain being a cause of said explosion)

2009-01-19T00:24:00.003-05:00

I was so confused that, as you can see, I stopped in the middle of the road and, lacking any critical instruction, took a picture with my cell phone.

i never knew Total Recall could be used in so many situations

2009-01-18T18:41:00.006-05:00

two weeks......TWOOOOO WEEEEEEKS.
**
the bathroom at work is 95% automated. the toilet, soap dispenser, and paper towel dispenser are all sensor-triggered. noticeably absent in this process is the sink. They still have the standard hot and cold knobs.
now, i don't know about you, but if i had to swap one of these out, i would give up the paper towels in a second.
here's why.
what's the first thing you do when you leave the stall? assuming you follow socially acceptable standards, you go to the sink and turn on the water with your post-duty hands - seriously no pun intended.
this is just gross. because when you finish washing you have to turn OFF the water, which just sort of wets down all the germs and creates a germ wading pool.
also, you end up looking like an asshole waving your hands back and forth in front of the PT dispenser and then someone walks into the bathroom and you're waving your wet hands and the water droplets fling from your palms onto their face and you know that that water came from the germ wading pool on the faucet, and they know it too, and you can't talk about it, but it's there - this germy elephant in the room.
**
in my thirty years i have seem many disturbing things in public restrooms. the other day, though, i saw what was possibly the most disturbing of all.

a craisin. on the bathroom floor.

how did it get there? was someone eating in the bathroom? Eating craisins in the bathroom??
I can't think about this anymore. even though it happened on tuesday, i'm still really bothered by it.
**
if you've spent any time reading this blog, or even some time hanging out with me, you're probably aware of my feelings towards public personal hygiene. lets just say that i don't think the iron maiden is completely out of the question.
if someone were to ask, there would probably be an order of inappropriate when it comes to various types of hygiene. towards the bottom would be something like brushing ones hair (this does NOT include, however, pulling said hair from between the bristles and discarding them on the floor.) The middle of the list is comprised of excessive make-up application (we're talking more than a touch-up here), tweezing, and eyebrow curling.
the one activity that is, in no small way, at the very very top of the list is (i'm having trouble even typing it) nail clipping.
no.no.no.no.no.no.no.no.
just don't do it.
don't do it.
**
guess how lucky i am...you remember that office i told you about with the windows that open and close? well, there's a certain individual who sits not 30 feet from said office. and guess what this individuals favorite daily activity is?!
I'll give you a hint.

click.

click.

click.

oh that's right folks. can you say "JACKPOT!!!!"
**
prilly suggested i go to hr, and i suggested that she might want to see me at an in-patient program.
**
after depositing my paycheck, i realized that i forgot to endorse it.
**
so, to sum up: broke, germy, food-friendly bathrooms, and a high probability that - when walking through the office - i am stepping on someone's freshly cut nails.

WHEEEEEEEE.

week one: a review

2009-01-11T23:42:00.003-05:00

this past friday marked my last day of my first week of my new job.
**
monday is pretty much covered in this other post.
**
tuesday i ended up working until 11pm. i know that seems ridiculous and unnecessary as how much could one person have to do on their second day. but i plead these points:
1) there was, in fact, a big presentation that we were preparing for (see friday)
and
2) after having been complimented only on my dvd rental selection for the past zillion days, i was up to the challenge of doing something that would get me more than Rental Rewards.
**
Then, i got locked in the lobby vestibule. i felt totally awesome about this, as you can imagine. finally, the night supervisor let me out but not before asking me, "You don't have a card?"
Now, seriously, guy. If I had a card would I be sitting here, pretending to be stuck in an office vestibule at 11pm at night? This looks like a good time to you?
**
i don't remember much about wednesday except that there were these really good brownies and i ate one and it sort of got stuck in my throat and i thought for a second 'of course, this is the way i'm going to die. eating a brownie in the middle of an office where nobody knows me and everyone is just going to run around and say "dude, that new girl choked on a brownie and died." and then someone else is going to say, "you mean the brownies on the platter in the office" and the other guy is going to say "yeah" and that other one is going to say "she was NOT supposed to be eating those brownies. why do new people always think they can just eat the food?"'
**
thursday i created a new pandora radio station.
then i went out to dinner with co-workers and clients. there was duck on the menu which is an automatic order for me - always. if i were at ihop and the special was "rutti tutti fresh and ducky" - done and done.
everything was going well, but then i think i insulted a co-worker by implying, jokingly, that her twin sister might be unknowingly passing VD. sometimes i forget that very few people actually think i'm funny. note to self. keep mouth shut, except when chewing duck.
**
friday it was off to DC to give the presentation (mentioned in tuesday's recap). i believe that it should be universal law that any public encasement (in this case, the Amtrak train) should have personally adjustable temperature controls. who was the genius that thought all people could ever possibly enjoy the same room temperature. and...AND...if anything, public domain should lean on the colder side because one can always put on more layers but it's strangely frowned upon to enjoy a commuter crossword in your bra. i actually took off my sweater and hung around in my tanktop - which i just DO NOT DO. i don't think i've been in a tanktop in public since lollapalooza 1993.
**
meeting, meeting, meeting
**
Amtrak home.
**
there is some funniness that happened in there, but that's for a separate post. when i promised to be more prolific this year i wasn't thinking about the relative boringness of my day-to-day. here's to spreading it out.

this ain't your bubbie's matzah ball

2009-01-11T23:21:00.002-05:00

the week of christmas i got an email from booj asking me if i wanted to go to the matzah ball - which is this big jew jamboree that happens in the city (and apparently like 9 other cities around the country) on christmas eve. if i took a poll of every person who ever met me, i think they'd safely say that molly would NOT be going to the matzah ball.
firstly, i had pretty much written off the alcohol as of 2001. and i think that most social outings that involved more than 3 people (with the exception of some all-night trivial pursuit tournaments) went the way of the dodo.
**
well, i was really sure that 2008 was going to be this amazing year. i had big plans. big, big, life changing plans. let me tell you something. 2008 sucked. it was totally lame. it was episodically amusing, but for the most part - trite, predictable, and snoozy.
so, deciding to defy the continual friend poll that runs in my head, i went out and bought a snazzy dress for what I was sure was going to be a perfectly disastrous way to end a perfectly disastrous year. can't say i don't appreciate symmetry.
**
i'm gonna skip a bunch of stuff now, because it's not important.
**
matzah ball club #1: the first thing that strikes me is that, no matter what my dad says, you can totally tell if someone is jewish.
the second thing i notice is that the average height in the club is probably a solid 5'6". A bunch of shiny, balding heads bouncing to a Britney Spears remix.
**
the third thing i noticed, and the thing i kept noticing throughout the night, was that, though the majority of the crowd were the children of the covenant, the second majority - or first minority - were asian women. i really don't have a theory or a comment on this, more just a general "ponderance"(see mosugs' made-up dictionary for more information). is there some legend of the Jewish Male that permeates Asian-American circles? What is it? WHAT? I NEED TO KNOW.
**
the only person i talked to at any length was this guy named Chris - who was not at all a jew, and (within a 78% probability range) gay.
**
oh, but here's the point. i drank that night. so, apparently i do that now.
**
looking back in this blog, i've made various declarations about how awesome "this year" is going to be. and, not to be vulgar, but a shitload of good that did me. so 2009, you are off the hook. you don't have to be amazing, you don't have to be mine, you don't have to be life altering in any way. if you stick to your general bargain of presenting me with 365 days, i will deal with the rest of it.
if you wanted to, and i mean only if you really wanted, you could through in some unexpected adulation and a small-prize lottery win. otherwise, i am good.

flashback: summer 2008

2009-01-08T18:36:00.002-05:00

i know i'm coming out of a depression when i finally change the sheets on the bed. i finish fluffing the pillows and folding my hospital corners, all the while thinking to myself 'You're going to be ok.'
***
this summer has been the darkest days i've seen. in the worst of it, i spent hours sitting in the bathtub with the shower running over me, begging desperately to melt into the water. since i wasn't working, i had no communication with anyone - i didn't have the patience or the desire to engage in conversation. i wore cement shoes, shuffling along while the earth moved like lightning.
my lungs hurt.
***
i've spent the better part of my lifetime in therapy - family sessions, psychologists, pychopharmacologists, social healers. i've never really wondered if it was actually doing me any good. it was just something i took for granted. of course i'm in therapy. i'm the kid that was so afraid mummies were going to pull her brain from her nose in the night, she demanded her father install a home alarm system. i'm the kid that could fill a short book with the poems she'd written entitled "Depression" and "My Sad".
looking back, though, i'm not sure if most of it actually helped. i think i spent the majority of my time performing for these people - a willing, open stage to produce a multi-act saga of my life. i'm sure i stretched the truth. i'm sure i lied. i'm sure i told really good stories.
***
for the past two years, i've finally started to understand why i really am in therapy, and it has little to do with mummies or poems. it has a lot more to do with the truth, and being boring and vulnerable and sloppy.
***
now, in the first week of 2009, i can't even remember remembering the depression. it's like it happened to someone else. and that's why i'm sure i'll be taken completely off guard when this happens again. maybe someone can remind me next time. maybe someone can tell me not to take myself so seriously; not to take anything so seriously.

please refer to the handbook for more information

2009-01-07T23:01:00.003-05:00

i got locked in the office vestibule last night.
i could tell you more, but i think this sort of expresses the situation perfectly.
**
i'm getting ready to move forward with my autobiographical mix project. this is, i think, one of my better "projects" (those including The Post-It Project, Manhattan Mystery Project, The Lucky Penny Project, Cuz I'm Shy Project, and the Track 2 Mystery Project, though I really think this last one has such promise.)
anyway, booj noted that i call lots of things "Projects" and that many of the domain names I happen to own have the word "project" in them. I was going to protest, but quickly realized it was true. and also, i decided that project is a totally kick ass word. so there.
**
what is an autobiographical mix? it's a mix of songs that follow one's chronological growth - not to be confused with a mix that represents a life line (as in, "when I was 5 I got into a fight and felt just like this Bad Brains song" - unless, of course, you were listening to that Bad Brain song when you were 5)
there's a little more too it, but not really too much more. i'm going to start collecting them from people i know and hopefully convince random strangers that they want to be apart of this library. i'll probably tell them that it's a project and that will win over the wafflers.
**
on the train coming home, there was a man who wouldn't/couldn't stop sneezing. it was actually quite alarming. at first it almost seemed like he was doing it on purpose, and i shot him nasty sideways glances, which is really more like a tic of mine - i just can't not shoot nasty glances at people making bodily noise on the train (nose snurf, nail clipping, throat clearing, coughing, tongue sucking which is the WORST OF ALL)
but he kept on sneezing and sneezing and i decided he must have been allergic to another passenger. and then i thought that maybe it was me. finally i got up and moved - the real reason was because he was annoying the shit out of me, but i pretended that it was because i wanted to alleviate his suffering if he was, in fact, allergic to me. of course, i don't know if he was or not, because i left the car and sat next to an old man playing an RPG on his computer.
**
do you think, if i brought a deck of cards with me on the train and asked someone if they wanted to play some gin, they would?

new year's revolution - bang, bang.

2009-01-05T23:00:00.004-05:00

so, i was going through all this old stuff that had been stored in my parents basement, and among the goods was a box with all my old journals, from about 5th grade on. The last journal ends right after college and then there's just nothing.
there's all this shit that happened between then (2000) and now (2009) that's totally unaccounted for. It's ridiculous. Like I didn't even exist.
**
here's the plan, folks. i'm committing to write at least two posts a week on this here blog. i'm also going to be consolidating another blog of mine into this one. fair warning, i had this separate blog for what you might consider my more despondent posts. yes, it's true - i have, once or twice, succumbed to those Monday blues. those fuckers. anyway, there's going to be some heavy shit coming this way and i want you all to be prepared. it's just safer that way.

**
today was my first day at work after three months of TV on DVD, knitting, and general slothiness. we had orientation to discuss benefits and 401(k). then we got a full half-hour training on how to use the telephone! Like, did you know that the button that says HOLD puts the person that you're speaking with on hold? Also, incase there's any confusion, pressing the HOLD button while not on the phone will do nothing.
**
the same guy that tought us about the phones also handed out our safety preparedness fanny pack. The office is right near where that steam pipe blew up last year, and this was the company's way of saying "we care". Inside the fanny pack was: one energy bar, one pair of latex gloves, one SARS mask, two packs of filtered drinking water, a packet of Paid-Aid, some Wet Ones, a glow stick, and a tube of eye drops. next time i talk to my grandparents on the phone i'll be able to alleviate their fears of my working in the city. "I have latex gloves, grandma. What could possible go wrong?"
**
on a different note, I have an office with real open and close windows. There's a Dunkin' Donuts two blocks from the building and the general store on the first floor sells Haribo gummi bears.

**
2009, I'd say, is off to a hell of a start.

***
Update: Boogh and I decided, all spontaneously like, to go to Vegas for a long weekend and take in the sights and sounds of Billy Joel. All I have to say to any of you that are laughing, or gagging, or something, is I just might be the lunatic you're looking for. Zing!

i just...i mean. i have nothing to say about this

2008-10-28T15:20:00.003-04:00

http://bananabunker.com/

rant of the day (or possibly hour)

2008-09-11T12:03:00.003-04:00

firstly, i will readily admit that my blog is filled with typos, spelling errors, misuse of punctuation, grammatical gaffes, not to mention my penchant for haphazard capitalization. so, you might see this rant as being hypocritical, but i will propose that it isn't, based on the following reasons:
1. I am not a journalist, nor have I ever had anything published in a national forum (or even a regional or local forum, bar the poem I wrote in the 3rd grade that was published in the Woodstock Times as part of a special interest story).
2. That's really my only reason, but I think you should read it again and really take it in.
***
for various reasons, which may or may not have to do with my work situation, i get to look at a lot of blogs. you would not believe the insane array of bizarre, infantile, crappy crap that exists in what is so geekily referred to as the "blogosphere". or, maybe you would believe it - i'll leave out the self-deprecating comment that would normally go here.
anyway, i came across this particular blog - i'm not going to link to it because it's not really important. what is important, however, is that the blogger is a nationally published journalist, writing for publications that you and I have read (i'm just assuming you've read them. it's highly likely, anyway)
here are some samples from her latest posts:

"... 'member him? i was first reporter to write about him, followed by new york magazine. we caught up with eachother at the prada party last night."

"...after the show i approached his niece angela to get her thougts on the collection."

***
having written this post, i now see that maybe i'm overreacting. the truth is i'm just insanely jealous of this girl that gets to write for a living, whoop it up with the hoity-toity and still be careless/care free about her blog edits.
***
bitch.

a dollar short and a day late

2008-09-09T14:48:00.003-04:00

because i don't believe in the word "timely" and choose, instead, to believe in the word "tardy", here is the funniest thing i just saw that most people have already seen but might want to see it again since it's right here on the blog:

"excuse me, but your age is showing."

2008-09-09T14:13:00.003-04:00

when Beverly Hills, 90210 premiered in 1990 it instantly replaced oxygen as my life-sustaining source.
i watched it when it was cool, when it became uncool, and when - in college - it became cool again.
i had posters of the crew of West Beverly plastered on my walls, went through deep-hearted love crushes on every boy and some of the girls. it was euphoric.
so, as early as my tivo would allow, i scheduled a season pass for the new, shorter titled 90210.
***
well. it's finally happened. i'm not the target demo anymore. in watching the two-hour season premiere, I found myself hopelessly attracted to, not the cute bad-boy or his arch nemesis, but the dad/high school pricipal and the english teacher. i was much more interested in the story arch involving mr. teach and the now-guidance councelor kelly taylor, than in the catty a story line about a boy who cheated on a girl who cheated on a school paper. bo-ring.
***
with the possible exception of the OC I always viewed the adult players (Dawson's parents, Brenda and Brandon's 'rents, Mr. Belding on Saved By The Bell) as an annoying but necessary mirror used to show how young and how hip the kids were and how out of touch people over 21 really are.
***
well, i've flipped. i'm a flip-flopper. I find myself rooting for Dan's hipster dad and Serena's diamond-smiled mom on Gossip Girl. I often wonder why Heidi's parents are hiding out in Colorado and why they haven't flown out to The Hills to kidnap their out-of-control daughter.
***
TV makes me feel old.

It's a sad state of affairs

2008-08-14T16:26:00.004-04:00

Today at the train station I saw a teddy bear, left on it's own, in the middle of the tracks.
This seriously depressed me. Has life become so bad for this bear that he had to resort to suicide? Had some child, so enraged by his teddy's glazed looks, pitched him towards a passing train? A scorned lover's last plea rebuked as she walks onto the midnight train.

Maybe I need to switch my meds.
***
I had a long talk with my parents the other day about where my life is headed and what I want to be in life. I mean, I think the literal words that started the conversation were:

Dad: So where are you going?
Me: Huh?
Dad: Where are you headed?
Me: You mean, today?
Dad: No. I mean, in life.

Talk about pressure.
I mean, how the fuck do i know? lately I haven't been headed much of anywhere. I've holed up in my apartment watching bad tv and eating fruit leathers.
Anyway, we talked about it for a while and they were like well what do you like to do and i was like oh, i don't know i don't know, probably i would just write. and, this is actually a total surprise to me. it came out of my mouth and shocked me completely. but, I thought about it more and more and realized it was true. I actually like writing. or love it. and some people have said that i'm ok at it (most of those people are in my family, but i'm choosing to include them).
Then we talked about going back to school, and my dad mentioned something pragmatic like "journalism" or "communications". I started having visions of writing user manuals for portable devices, and the conversation dwindled.
It did, however, plant a spark (a spark, not a seed, because it's bouncing around all over the place, not just like growing up into one big plant). Maybe i should just do it, just start typing and see what happens.
***
I'm typing right now.
***
Wow. Good stuff.
***
When I was around 11 or 12 I wrote this children's book. It was about a mouse, and a chair, and some cats. Talk about a recipe for disaster. Anyway, I was thinking of sprucing it up and trying to find an illustrator. If you know of any - you four people who read my blog - let me know.

it's august and it mine as well be october...

2008-08-01T13:43:00.003-04:00

...because they're selling halloween candy at the store and i prefer the weather.
***
i've been listening to the Radio Lab podcast obsessively. I've just run out - listened to all of them - and i fear a major withdrawal meltdown. this show is just so good. it's like a warm blanket that reads you stories while you're falling asleep. like the blanket itself is talking to you, and telling you about gorillas, and space, and toxic landfills. and goats standing on cows. seriously.
***
i started a new job on monday. it's at a small company that was started by one of the founders of the other small company i used to work for that got bought by the big company. it's good to be back doing the small thing again. but it's like, really small. four people small. not counting about nine folks that work in another country - can't really count them since they're not here to share awkward morning commute stories with.
***
today i got so tired - like a flash of tiredness - that i went into the bathroom, where there's a plastic office chair, and took a quick cat nap. it was probably about five minutes, but i was really out for those five minutes. i wonder if anyone came in and thought about the crazy girl sleeping in the bathroom. i couldn't help it, though. i was that tired. after two cups of coffee, no less.
***
i got into a car accident on wednesday. i'd like to say it was some idiot that came out of nowhere and hit me. but i was the idiot and i did the hitting. luckily the lady's car (a mammoth land rover-hummer-highlander) was unscathed. i'm driving around in a crappy ford focus while my bumper and fender and headlight are repaired. by a place called "Pray Body Shop". Which is such a weird name for a body shop because you're sortof past the prayer stage. since the accident's already happened. unless it's like, 'pray for a low estimate' or 'pray they don't replace my fender with one of a completely different color so i look like a total asshole in my mismatched car.' maybe that's it.

in a weird way, i feel like i've arrived.

2008-05-14T14:04:00.003-04:00

i was on the train yesterday, and i got stuck in one of the seats up at the front that faces a row of seats. and then your knees are knocking with the other person and it's so aggravating.
so there i was, minding my knees, when i look up at my cross-the-way neighbor and he, um, well, he was aroused!
now, here's a few things to note: he was dressed like a professor - button down, khakis, 'i'm a professor' horn-rimmed glasses. AND, he was reading the new york times! about the earthquake in China!
so, to sum up: smart glasses, horrors in Asia, and a boner! how is this possible?
***
it got worse. i'm sure you can imagine, and if you can't i'm certainly not going to explain it to you. let's just say that the lady to my right got the conductor and the man, his paper, and his glasses, were escorted away.
***
now before you get all skeeved out by my title, it's not what you think.
see, in the 7 years i've lived in or near manhattan, i haven't been able to accumulate nearly the amount of 'the CRAZIEST thing happened to me' stories that i feel are rightfully entitled to me. but now, finally, when my sister completes her ode to the lady who dropped trow on 51st street, i'll have a solid follow-up.
***
on a different note, i found an 80-legged bug in my apartment last weekend. now i'm going to have to move out, because there just isn't room enough for both of us.

the last person ever to touch me is my nose-whistling massage therapist?!?!

2008-04-21T16:19:00.002-04:00

prilly and i went to the spa this weekend to celebrate her 35th birthday. it was this place in the berkshires, and on the way we may a slight (actually, not so slight - it was long, and prilly got pissed) detour to Hampshire. i spend like 60 bucks on sweatshirts.
**
we got to our room at the spa and, let's just say it was "floral". i think i used the word dowdy when describing it to the front desk, in the form of this sentence "do you have anything less dowdy?"
you see, i was trying to make things extra special for my sister, who was just diagnosed with gestational diabetes, and was not psyched that she couldn't really celebrate (because in our family, celebrate means eat. they're basically synonymous.)
**
we did get a different room, which was maybe 7% less dowdy. On to the spa.
**
We both got a scalp treatment, and as the woman started working on my neck i had a nightmarish flash that she was going to press to hard and somehow burst my aneurysm. now, yes people, i realize this isn't possible. the doctor made it fairly clear that human contact couldn't pop my bubble, but still - she kept pressing and i kept thinking, 'this lady, with this whistle in her nose, she's going to be the last person I ever see. And the last sound I'll hear is the discordant cacophony or new age gregorian chanting and a nose whistle deserving of a blue ribbon. fuck!"
**
it wasn't exactly what you would call relaxing. but at least i'm still alive.

.sometimes my tears are honest.

2008-04-21T16:15:00.001-04:00

the votes are in! ANNOYING wins!

2008-04-14T15:35:00.003-04:00

On thursday, i was doing my puzzle as always (see previous post) and 13 down's clue read : You may be doing this puzzle in it.
PEN! The answer was PEN! if i ever see that man again I'm going to spill ink all over him.
**
today is aj's 3rd birthday. here is a picture of her:

i got her a pink grand piano (pint sized) and she serenated me last night with a tune she wrote, who's lyrics include - i shit you not -
"Sometimes I get sad, and sometimes I eat pickles"
**
this basically sums up my entire life, so clearly the kid's a genius. pre-sale of her album have already surpassed 5 copies.

polite or annoying - commuter edition

2008-04-08T22:54:00.002-04:00

place: metro-north train
when: morning
what: my morning train ritual involves doing the NYT crossword - it also involves a jelly munchkin and a toothpick, but that's not pertinent to the story. so i'm working away when a friendly fellow sits besides me and smiles, "oh ho ho, " literally like santa he "ho'd", "see yer workin' on the puzzle." "Yup," I say, inking my way the down column.
"You really shouldn't do those thangs in pen, ho ho. Not til yer an expert, anyway."
so, a) how the hell does he know i'm not an expert? maybe my letter over letter ink blots are just artistic embellishments.
and b) it's the morning. i'm ritual-ing here. have some respect.
or, i suppose,
c) funny nice old man trying to keep that christmas spirit alive. ho ho.
**
here is a picture of my new tattoo. Depending on the day, it's name is either Charlie or Ewa:

These Two Things Make Me Sad. Just These Two

2008-04-08T22:35:00.002-04:00

when i get home from a hard day in the coal mines (and by coal, i mean the internet, and by mines, i mean my balance ball chair on the 10th floor) i go to this little parking ticket machine to pay my daily fee - $7!
the machine talks like sort of like my grandpa, and he says, 'please insert your ticket.' this isn't the sad part.
when you're done paying and the machine spits out your receipt, he says, 'thank you and have a good night.' this is the sad part.
it's sad because by the time he says this, most people - including me (sorry grandpa) are already half way down the stairs to the garage. here's this grandpa wishing me a good night and i don't even have the courtesying to stick around and give him a hug.
you think i'm kidding, maybe, but i'm not. it really makes me sad. walking down the stairs, i feel pangs.
**
pangs!
**
here's the other thing that makes me sad.
when i hear voice overs for car commercials and i realize they are the voices of some of my favorite actors who have fallen upon hard times and are now reduced to doing voice overs. (yes, i know they probably get gobs of money to do this, so it wouldn't technically be called "hard times" but it's still a long way from sex scenes with Samantha Mathis)

Our Baby Boris

2008-04-08T01:12:00.003-04:00

Let's not mention that it WAS february and now it IS April.
**
it's a boy. we don't have a name so we've been calling him 'Boris'. This doesn't bode well for me, as we called abby "muffin" pre-naming, and I got one tattooed on my leg as a tribute. Now, I'm not sure how one tattoos a "boris". Maybe just a depiction of the Kremlin?
**
I have been laid off - how weird. I didn't think this happened to people like me. Don't ask me what type of person that is, but - well. My last day is June 30th. Then I'm UNEMPLOYED. Bread line unemployed. soup kitchen unemployed. gap in the resume unemployed. 30 and unemployed.
**
My doctor put me on a new medication and it's making me shaky and disorganized and I can't put this blog post together, which is unfortunate, since it's the first time I've been motivated to actually post at all.
**
I'll try again in a month, I'm sure.

lazier than your average cookie

2008-02-11T12:04:00.000-05:00

it's february! and not like the 1st of february. it's the MIDDLE of february!
**
fuck.
**
i haven't told you yet, but 2008 is gonna be my year. don't be sad that it's not your year. there's always, uh, next year.
**
today prilly has her ultrasound to find out if the baby in her belly has a penis or a vagina. or - cuz it happens - both. i'm leaving work early to go, which i realize might seem strange and boundary crossing, but one of the awesome things about 2008 is that i'm totally ok with that.
**
run down of what's going on:

1. i started taking pilates and i actually have this muscle where no muscle was before. my instructor insists that it's always been there but clearly she's crazy.
2. i'm working on remodeling my condo. it's depressing.
3. Battlestar Galactica. Oh.My.God.

**
i don't know about you, but that sounds like a pretty full life to me.
oh, i'm in a band. but we're not really a band and i'm not really in it. so.
yeah.

you're a sorry excuse for a blogger....

2007-12-10T12:52:00.001-05:00

well, excuuuuuuuuuse me.
***
let's catch-up.
***
left job at big corpo-world, went back to the Q, where i worked previously. Q then got bought by another big corpo-world, so back to working for corpo-world again, but at least I have my own office.
gave up my AMAZING one bedroom apartment on the upper west side - 3 closets, all huge - to buy a condo in...um,{{{connecticut}}}. i wanted to be near my sister and aj and also be a financially responsible person.
my garbage disposal broke, my toilet won't flush, the 8' high windows that i thought were so rad at the time serve the singular purpose of sucking all the heat straight from the heaters and out into the parking lot. i traded in time warner for i/o cablevision, and i have a car. i HATE having a car.
***
i'm in a band, and that's actually a good thing (which is why i separated it from the above). it's not like a 'community band' it's really this guy i work for - let's call him Tuna - and he writes the songs and we're just hired hands. but, it's super fun, and actually i'm sort of lying about the hired hands thing because i do have a say in how things go. i sing and play the violin and tap my foot dramatically.
***
being back at the Q has been, suprisingly, semi-rewarding and not totally lame. working with vk again is great, and it's comforting to know that i've already proven myself here so i can basically coast. i TOTALLY didn't mean that, I mean, um, you know, well...
also, tuna was a pleasant surprise. he's pretty crafty and wicked so there's always good brainstorming sessions to be had. and he writes the songs.
oh, and like i said before, i have my own office. HOLLA. right?
***
i went on a massive spending spree the past few days - one hollow-body guitar, one electric bass, one set of KRK Studio 8 monitors with stands, two condenser mics, one vocal mic, two boom mic stands, 3 picture frames, 2 pillows, 1 candleabra, two years' worth of groceries, a stud finder, and all the materials to build a pantry closet.
***
stuff is a great substitution of love and quality television programming.

polite or annoying - a series

2007-10-11T16:04:00.000-04:00

say you're walking down a hallway towards a door, but you're still a good distance away. There's another person walking towards the door, but they're much closer than you are.
when this other person gets to the door, they open it and then hold it open for you - but you're still really far away. this now makes you feel obligated to RUN towards the door because you don't want them to just stand around holding the door open.
You've now made it through the door without having to have opened it, but you're out of breath and sweaty. it's likely you would have expended less energy if the other person had walked through and allowed you to pace leisurely to the door and open it yourself.
and now you still have to thank the person as they feel they've done a good deed.
***
polite? or annoying?

holy fuck where have you been i totally thought you died - a reunion

2007-09-27T13:22:00.001-04:00

she's back.
***
these past few weeks i've been busy ramping at my new job, looking for a condo (more on this in a bit), and setting my dv-r for all the new shows. this season has really pushed my scheduling skills to a level rarely seen. i've found 3am re-runs, saturday marathons, and have made some heart wrenching sacrifices (side note: i sound like i'm kidding about the sacrifices but the sad thing is, i'm not. like, it was really hard for me to decide what wasn't going to make it on the wednesday night roster. there's lots of conversation about it - friends, family - and i still end up feeling sad, like maybe i made the wrong choice. and then i think about sophie. and then i feel like an ass.)
***
the realtor's have begun showing my apartment in the city, and of course, are constantly giving me 15 minutes notice (even though, i think by law, you have to give 24). i've been tempted to leave a turd or something in the toilet, but then i realize that there are magazines and other things that have my name on it, so the people might see the turd and then see my name, and know who i am, and then one day i'll meet someone and say, "hi, i'm mosugs." and they'll go, "oh my god, did you leave a turd in the toilet?"
***
recently i finished reading 'oswald's tale' by norman mailer. first of all, did you know that oswald attempted to assassinate someone prior to the JFK shooting? did you know that?? DID YOU???
also, he has two kids. can you imagine being his kids? can you?? CAN YOU??
***
after oswald i was feeling a lot of mailer love, so i picked up his new book, a fictionalization about Hitler's childhood. it sort of felt like fate because i had mentioned to ploob (before i knew about this book) that after oswald i wanted to read about hitler.
umm...look - norm is amazing. really. but, i'm having a little trouble getting down with this book. because in order to get down with it, i also have to get down with a narrator who is a devil (small d) working for the Evil One (big D). there's all this talk about the devils and the cudgels and the fight for human souls, which isn't really a fight so much as a game. Little d follows boy adolf around, and talks about how his dad and mom are also brother and sister and how he has one testicle and his great grandfather was a Jew.
i've been doing a lot of sudoku at night.
***
it is not almost october. $%#&

on freedom, failure, and other f words

2007-08-18T00:51:00.000-04:00

today at 3:30pm, I ended my 18-month tenure with the company so frequently spoken about in this blog. it was with mixed emotions, but those emotions were mostly on the happy side of the scale.
this isn't really going to be a funny post, but i thought it necessary to put this marker in place and it's monumentally huge for me.
i know i have been somewhat vague about the company and my relationship with it. in time, i'll probably loosen up, but for now, i'll remain similarly tight lipped.
***
as when leaving any job to start something new, there is this total sense of freedom. it's the unexpected and with that the idea of true and lasting success with the things to come. you never think your new adventure will lead you anywhere but the best of places, and even in my general pessimistic head, i look forward to what's ahead (which, coincidentally, is also behind as i'm going back to a company i previous worked for.)
***
it's time to fess up: in the last 18 months, i have been a total failure. i failed the job, my boss, and the company, and i also failed myself. and i really really hate failing. like really.
i took on something i was pretty sure i could do, even though i had no formal experience with it, because um hello, i can do anything! well, um, not so much.
for one, i can't work far away from people who i need to partner with.
for two, i can't snap out of dispassionate moods - and these moods sabotage whatever it is i was supposed to be passionate about in the first place.
mostly though, i realized that i can't (or, rather, couldn't) ask for help. so, instead i chose to plotz around doing what i could and waiting for something to realize that i was seriously fucking up, and do something about it.
lame lame lame.
***
one really amazing and awesome thing happened out of this experience. i met ploob. and ploob is, well...ploob is awesome. you're life isn't as awesome if you don't know ploob. it's really that simple.
she has made every second of these last 18 months totally worth while.
i was planning i writing a lot more about ploob but i'm writing this on a public computer in the hotel and there are several people standing behind me waiting for the computer and every once in a while one of them signs and shifts their feet.
***
so to recap, i'm free from the largest failure i've experienced to date, and though that's pretty fucked up, i succeeded in finding something far more important - a friend.

who needs nature when you have pay-per-view?

2007-08-16T17:41:00.001-04:00

when prilly and i got to niagara falls, we quickly looked at all the various things there were to do, and realizing that there were basically two things- riding the maid of the mist and gambling - we set off to the casino. (don't worry, we rode that boat the next day, and hilarity ensued. for some reason, a boat, water, and ponchos equalled "the most fun ever" and we couldn't stop laughing. Here is a picture. This is before the boat and water, but with ponchos so we were having, at this point, mild fun)
***
after our casino trip, we returned to our hotel room, enjoyed the remainder of our luscious fruit and went about choosing a movie from the pay-per-view section.
we were scanning through the titles, we both wanted something a little actiony, and i saw that 'Deju Vu' was on the list.

"What about this one?," I asked her.

Completely earnestly she said, "I think I've seen this before."

If you know my sister, this will come as little surprise, but if you don't, please trust me when I say that she had no idea how hilarious this was until after all the words came out of her mouth.

***
We ended up watching The Lookout.

Being Platinum Has Its Perks

2007-08-14T13:47:00.000-04:00

So, a few weeks ago, after an extended stay at the Redmond Residence Inn, I achieved my lifelong goal of being a Marriott platinum elite member. If you don't know, this is a highly prodigious achievement which includes such perks as cash checking privileges and late check out.
The perk that I was most excited about, having read it in the brochure they sent with my new card, was the Special Platinum Arrival Gift. I imagined a basket of fine cheeses, or bath soaps, or maybe a cubic zirconia tiara.
***
my sister and i used some of my platinum points to go to niagara falls (canada side). we were looking for a getaway that was close to home, yet felt somewhat exotic. and also, there are casinos there.
upon check in, i was handed a card that said "Please choose gift". This is is! I was so excited.
My options:
1. pint of ice cream
2. fruit and pretzels with water
3. 1/2 carafe wine
4. 500 marriott points

what an utter disappointment. You couldn't even choose the flavor of ice cream!
we debated for a while and settled on the fruit plate, as it seemed like the most bang for your buck.
***
a bit later, as we were unpacking, a knock on the door announced the arrival of the fruit.
forlorn, i opened the door. and there before me was a beautiful spread of luscious cut fruits - melons, and berries and citrus. a palate sensation.
'My god!' I cried. 'I have underestimated you, dear Marriott. Never again!'
we devoured the fruit with glee, and all the while i was dreaming of my next stay at a Marriott, and the feast that would await me there.
****
The time arrived, this past sunday, to again stay at a Marriott with my new status. Confident and excited, I walked to the counter and pulled out my Platinum number. The gift card was placed in front of me with a pen, and with no doubt I heartily checked off 'Fruit and pretzels with water'.
I thought of my sister, vacationing in VT, and thought how jealous she was going to be. 'Perhaps I'll bring her back some water so she can be a part of this great gift', I thought.
***
The knock was expected yet my heart still jumped.
With forced informality, I walked to the door and opened.
***
The bowl, laden with a black linen napkin, held one orange and two apples - all whole. The orange was thick skinned and sad, the apples waxy and bruised.
A second bowl was filled with miniature bar pretzels, then covered in saran.
And then the water, carelessly placed in a bucket of ice.
'On the bed is fine.'
This once lauded reward lay weak and defeated on my comforter.
***
I ask you, what has become of this world when a loyal customer can be treated with fruits from a tree so luxurious and then tossed the rotting remains of the bushels.
***
it is indeed a sad sad day.

Casting Chubby Janeane Garofalo-type

2007-07-27T13:23:00.000-04:00

my therapist is concerned that i spend so much time alone. i tell her it's just because i don't like people, but that implies some sort of cociophobia, which is not it - it's just that most people are so boring.
***
i've also come to the conclusion that movies and tv have probably ruined me in a lot of ways. i find it almost impossible to stay focused on my actual life right now. i always see things as soundtracked montages - my ipod doesn't help. bursts of emotion come out when i'm on the train listening to summer, highland falls by Billy Joel (i know!) or watching big love. my plans to exit my current employment bear trap have not been working out, so that's a little depressing. i would like to skip ahead a year and have all this sorted out and have me enjoying my life as a writer, or producer, or music supervisor, or creative anything-er. again, movies have ruined me.
***
i rearranged my possessions the other day. i do that a lot. it's sortof like rearranging your life. i'm a total packrat so often i'll get half-way through and then occupy myself with some manila envelope of letters i'd received in college. (this doesn't always prove to be therapeutic, however. i once found a letter from my best friend, E. he had written it our freshman year, that would be 1996, and he was very angry - generally, as a person and specifically, at me. he questioned in the letter if we could still be friends and other very dramatic angsty things. i, of course, broke into hysterics and called him screaming, 'you hate me! you hate me!'. did i mention that movies have completely ruined me?)
***
I have a mild addiction to netflix. To people thinking of taking the plunge, please netflix responsibly. Because it can get out of control (every time I log in they’re like ‘did you know you can get one more movie for only .27 a month! And I’m like ‘.27! that’s nothing!’ meanwhile, what one person needs with 9-at-a-time is beyond me. And, shockingly, .27 adds up.)
***
i should start writing again. i spent a lot of time in college writing 'autobiographical fiction' (i know, college is SO ridiculous), and i have a bunch of stories, and lists and lists of other stories - the family is truly fodder for good tales, not to mention my own checkered past. but, it's hard to find the time or the motivation, and i'm not sure what i would do with them after they were written. can i have a montage of me scribbling ideas on the subway, typing up transcripts in an all night diner, sealing up thousands and thousands of envelopes, end montage. next shot - molly with an envelope in her hand from some absolutely fabulous publisher. is this it? is this it? (of course this is it, it's the fucking movies.)
***
ruined. seriously.

apparently i have a spirit animal

2007-07-20T12:58:00.000-04:00

at the therapist's office yesterday, she was like, 'i have some great news.' and i was like, 'what?'
she said, 'i got your blood work back, and...' i cut her off and yelled, '...and I'm a MONKEY!'
I really just said this because it was the first thing that popped in my head, but what a mistake, because i had to spend the next ten minutes talking about why i thought i was a monkey.
**
anyway, maybe you're thinking it's weird that therapist's ask for blood work, but she's like an actual doctor and needed to check levels of sanity in my blood, or something like that. she had actually asked me to get checked about 8 weeks ago, and i just didn't go and didn't go. finally i was like, i better fucking go. so i went.
**
of course, we then had to talk about why i took 8 weeks to go. and i told her that i absolutely HATE Quest Laboratories and that it's insane because they basically have a monopoly on the blood and pee business and that you have no CHOICE WHATSOEVER if you need to pee or give blood and you can't make an appointment which just seems insane so instead you have to wait for literally HOURS in a stinky room where people are holding pee cups or are sick with some weird disease and then you put your name on this list and the workers are SO rude because they're like ' i can't talk to you just put your name on the list' and then they role their eyes at you which is crazy because Quest's mission statement is basically like We're All About the Customer and they're NOT AT ALL about the customer and you wait and wait and watch old people being abused by the phlebotomist because they can't pee, or the kids who ask if they can pee (cuz they have to go) and the workers are like NO, YOU CAN'T CUZ THEN YOU WON'T BE ABLE TO GO WHEN YOU NEED TO GO and then the kid is like, 'well can i just pee in the cup now, cuz if i don't i'm going to pee in my pants' and the lady says, 'no, sit down' and it's an outrage because these people are getting paid so don't be rude or like when you're at the supermarket at the checkout line and the cashier is chatting with the neighboring cashier and it's like 'you are NOT getting paid to chat, you are getting paid to ring up my groceries and take my money'
**
she thinks i may have some aggression issues.
i think it's just common sense.

even my superpower is lame

2007-06-29T13:34:00.000-04:00

today i was talking to my friend, r. and how i would trap him in a bathroom and not let him out. and r. said that he's able to break through anything, that's his power. so then, I was like, well if you break through, i'll knock you down and.... (and this was the best I could come up with) I'll run you over with my feet.
So that's my superpower. Running things over. literally. running. with my feet.
***
i'm still in fucking seattle!
***
last weekend, i went with ploob and pete and some of their friends to this thing called Artopia. I'm always nervous about anything that combines two words, especially when one of the words "utopia".
but, i was like, what the fuck, a little adventure.
There was a petting zoo, and it consisted of two pomoranians and a big slobber dog.
They were selling sausage, and the sausage guy was also selling this thing called an Idaho Spud.
I bought one.
An Idaho Spud is candy/baked good/martian that is essentially a big brown turd covered in coconut. In the middle there's this off-white cream, that i think is supposed to look like potato.
I'm not sure I'm ever going to fully recover.
***
last night i watched shortbus. I was pretty sure i wasn't gonna like it, but i actually thought it was ok. what i find particularly hilarious is that i know no less than 5 people who were in the movie. there kept being these scenes where it would flash to a crowd and i'd be like, oh! i went to school with her!
in case you don't know, shortbus is basically a bunch of people having lots of sex. that is why the knowing people thing is extra funny. Apparently, hampshire really prepares people for sexually explicit art making.
***
i'm going to be starting a new blog. it's not a top secret blog as recommended (though I may have already started that and you wouldn't know would you?)
my new blog is going to be about music, and it's going to be a weekly playlist. i hope you will come and enjoy it, and be sad when i don't keep up my promise to post every week
***
ploob is in scotland right now! she's probably having haggis with sean connery.
i'm sitting at my computer watching animaniacs.

a rumination on blogging

2007-06-14T14:58:00.000-04:00

there are some things i would like to get off my chest. it seems that my blog would be a wonderful forum to unload said things.
but here's the thing: some people read this blog, or have access to this blog, and the things i would like to say could harm my reputation with said people. additionally, this blog could be happened upon by any number of other people whom i may have spoken about (unknowing of their daily visits to this blog).
but here's the other thing: i keep this blog because i like to believe people are reading it. in fact, the whole reason i kept journals growing up was so people who have something to read when i died (tragically and fatefully before the age of 25. this obviously didn't happen, but still...)
so here's the thing thing: how do i satisfy my ego and my need for private exposure and outpouring?
***
last night, while sitting in my bed at the residence inn and i wondered, what would have happened if Luke had never hooked up with Kelly in that swimming pool?

"Hello! I am your neighborhood franchisee"

2007-06-06T11:41:00.000-04:00

if you hadn't figured it out by now "the best job in the whole world ever" is someone else's best job in the whole world ever and not mine. this makes me question my ability as a "dream job getter". when i go extreme, i don't get it. when i go the more laid back approach (i did say something about pop rocks and fat necks, but i swear it was very casual) i don't get it.
**
i called my sister and said, 'we need to start a business.'
she said, 'you're the one with all the ideas.'
'yes,' i humbly confessed, 'it's true, i have all the brilliant ideas, but mine are all new and exciting and impossible. we need to just start a tried and true business.' (i think i actually said "tried and true")
'A Jamba Juice,' she said.
**
I'm currently composing my letter of introduction to Jamba Juice telling them why "my company" would be an excellent franchisee.
i figure that i'll be able to pick the music that gets played in the store, and that's totally music supervision.
Right?
Right?
**
i'm leaving next week for three weeks in the pacific northwest.
- i'm sad because i love new york summers.
- i'm sad because i'll be living in a residence inn.
- i'm sad because i won't have my dv-r and late night tv in seattle really sucks!
(dear seattle, after 11pm on a weeknight, one should always be able to find at least one episode per hour of Law and Order (any version), CSI (las vegas only), or Without A Trace (as a last resort). love, mosugs)
**
is there any money in lemonade stands?
**
in the birthday card prilly gave me, she wrote this really wonderful message.
in part..
"this is your year, i can feel it! i just know that this is the year that is going to bring wonderful things to you!! and if it isn't just remember that i love you very much."
at least she knows how to hedge her bets.
**
maybe i'll audition for american idol this year.

things to do before 30....

2007-06-05T16:31:00.000-04:00

last week i turned 29, and it seems that now is the time to make my official list of 'things to do before i turn 30'. The first thing, that isn't really on the list, is actually MAKING the list, because i'm a terrible procrastinator.
so, yay for me, one thing checked off!
***
THE LIST (in no particular order)
1. watch the Big Lebowski again, to determine if it's a bad as i remember, or if something was wrong with me the day i first watched it.

2. stop saying "Well, right now I do ______, but I really want to be doing ______."

3. set up the studio so it actually works and stuff

4. eliminate the following pet peeves

people who hold hands and swing there arms really really dramatically
people who don't know how to use the Metro-North ticket machine but refuse to use the window
people who, when their legs are crossed, swing one of them really really dramatically

5. take a vacation (my last vacation was when prilly took me to mexico for my 25th. I'm not kidding you. that is literally the last vacation I've taken)

6. learn how to style my hair

7. finish my screenplay (oh my god, i can't believe this is on my list. i mean, i do have a screenplay, and i do want to finish it, but one of my pet peeves that i don't plan on eliminating are people who repeatedly use cliches to describe their life in earnest. i hate myself.)

8. play the violin more regularly

9. start voice lessons

10. go on a real, official, second date (if you can't let out your pathetic secrets on your blog, where can you?)

11. fit into those jeans (i know the ones of which i speak)

12. maintain a firm grasp on my search for creative inspiration

13. learn CSS

14. finish the family car stories (these are stories, suprisingly, about the family car)

15. Follow one of the ideas in my business idea books through to completion

16. complete ploob's writing assignment

17. become more responsible with my finances

18. read at least 5 books that I bought over 5 years ago, but still haven't read (I read way more than 5 books a year, this is just for a specific subset of books that were bought and never read. for further clarification, see number 17.)

19. get this tattoo

20. submit writing to at least 10 publications

21. become one year closer to becoming a music supervisor

22. meet Larry David

that seems pretty good, i think.

and here we go.

a day in the life of me at work.

2007-06-04T17:38:00.000-04:00

there are 5 people working on a project.
things are moving along.
then one of those 5 people, for whatever reason, includes a team mate on an email string.
and the team mate says, "i'm worried about this...."
and then i say, "oh, we already told your team mate about that."
and they say "ok."
**
so now there are 6 people working on a project.
things are moving along.
then one of those 6 people, for whatever reason, includes a team mate on an email string.
and the team mate says, "i'm worried about this...."
and then i say, "oh, we already told your team mate about that."
and they say "ok."
**
so now there are 7 people working on a project.
things are moving along.
then one of those 6 people, for whatever reason, includes a team mate on an email string.and the team mate says, "i'm worried about this...."
and then they leave.
or it's the weekend.
or they're in meetings all day.
so nothing gets done.

the end.

more fun with mosugs and ploob

2007-05-23T18:08:00.000-04:00

if blogging is a sign of self-obsession, blogging your own IM conversations is basically like stalking yourself and then putting out a restraining order against that self.
it's also utterly lazy, and not at all interesting to read.
here are some of the funny things ploob and I talked about today

***
Mosugs says:
the BEANS
Ploob says:
it all comes down to beans
Mosugs says:
tell that to my butt
Ploob says:
bean butt
***
Ploob says:
i think i got kicked out of book club
***
Ploob says:
i thought a piece of my hair was really crusty
Ploob says:
but it was actually my headphone wire
***
Ploob says:
they are flowing into your mind?
Mosugs says:
out of my mind
Mosugs says:
onto the page
Ploob says:
out of your mind and into your fingers
Mosugs says:
yes
Ploob says:
don't stick your fingers in your nose or you'll explode!
Mosugs says:
really???
Mosugs says:
ideas in your nose = bad??
Ploob writes:

Mosugs says:
OMGOMGOMG
Ploob says:
they won't ahve anywhere to go but back to your fingers!
Ploob says:
it will be an endless circle of bands!
Ploob says:
and they won't be able to escape!
Ploob says:
and you will explode
Mosugs says:
that's HORRIBLE!
Ploob says:
LOL LOL
Ploob says:
i know!
Mosugs says:
look at my face!
Ploob says:
that's why i wanted to warn you!
Ploob says:
part of that is the arrow
Mosugs says:
would I die from this explosion?
Ploob says:
hold on
Mosugs says:
or would i just be severly deformed?
Ploob writes:

Mosugs says:
oh, well, in that one i look happy!
Ploob says:
LOL LOL
Ploob says:
yes
Ploob says:
however you're bald
Mosugs says:
so perhaps i SHOULD put my finger in my nose
Mosugs says:
bald and happy!
Ploob says:
LOL
Mosugs says:
better bald and happy, then hairy and sad
Mosugs says:
that's what i always say

all the MBAs are saying it...

2007-05-22T18:09:00.000-04:00

here is a transcript of a recent IM converation with ploob. she was in a meeting.

and we begin:

Ploob says:
george keeps saying, "fruit word"
Mosugs says:
what does that MEAN?
Ploob says:
it's like, a general word
Ploob says:
that can contain apple and orange
Mosugs says:
context?
Ploob says:
in this IM window with you,
Ploob says:
"actions" is the fruit word
Mosugs says:
i am so confused!!
Ploob says:
and "invite a contact" is the apple
Ploob says:
and "send a single file" is the ornage
Ploob says:
etc
Mosugs says:
i seriously
Mosugs says:
have no idea
Mosugs says:
what you're talking about!
Ploob says:
ok the menu at the top of this window with me
Ploob says:
file, edit, actions, tools, help
Ploob says:
those are all fruit words
Ploob says:
then, within each menu are the fruits!
Mosugs says:
you mean the pictures?
Mosugs says:
like the pictures that let you call someone?
Mosugs says:
or play a game with someone?
Ploob says:
no
Ploob says:
the choices in the menu
Ploob says:
are the fruits
Mosugs says:
i am laughing so hard, by the way
Mosugs says:
but have no idea what you're saying
Mosugs says:
at all
Mosugs says:
what menu?
Ploob says:
click on actions
Ploob says:
the actions menu IN THIS WINDOW
Mosugs says:
ok
Mosugs says:
ok
Ploob says:
actions - fruit word
Mosugs says:
why??
Ploob says:
within that menu are the individual fruits!
Ploob says:
because it summaries all the fruits
Mosugs says:
who decided those would be called fruit words?
Mosugs says:
what are fruits??
Ploob says:
"actions"
Mosugs says:
yes, but who made that decision?
Mosugs says:
like who was the first person who was like
Mosugs says:
fruits = actions
Ploob says:
no - "actions" is an example
Ploob says:
not all fruits are actions
Mosugs says:
OOOOMMMGGGG
Mosugs says:
i'm going crazy
Ploob says:
LOL
Ploob says:
think of it like
Ploob says:
topic and subtopics
Mosugs says:
i am seriously going insane i think, because i just don't get it
Ploob says:
topic = fruit
Mosugs says:
yes, but WHY?
Ploob says:
subtopics = apples, oranges, cherries
Mosugs says:
who said topic = fruit
Ploob says:
i dont' know
Ploob says:
i don't know who the first person was
Mosugs says:
is this something that lots of people know?
Mosugs says:
it also doesn't make sense
Mosugs says:
because it should be
Mosugs says:
fruit basket
Mosugs says:
then fruit
Mosugs says:
becaues cherry/orange
Mosugs says:
those ARE fruits
Ploob says:
yes i suppose
Mosugs says:
is this a common business term?
Ploob says:
i am not sure
Ploob says:
i'm vrying
Ploob says:
crying
Mosugs says:
like from funnies or from sadness?
Ploob says:
laughing
Ploob says:
jeanie is in this mtg and she's like what's so funny?
Mosugs says:
did you say "fruit"
Ploob says:
i said i'm trying to explaing fruit word to you
***
they say this company has some very intelligent people under its employ. how true, my friends, how true.

home is where the job is

2007-05-22T14:42:00.000-04:00

i'm back in the city after spending 11 days on the west coast. I was dreading and excit-ing this trip for various reasons, and the excitement was dreadful while the dread turned out to be totally unwarranted.

I've decided to combine my love of trip recaps with my love of lists and provide you, forthwith, a

Trip Recap List

miles travelled: 4826
# of movies ordered on in-room entertainment: 1
times i locked my key in the hotel room: 3
# of places squated in the office: 5
# of record stores visited: 3
# of snobby record store clerks encountered: 1 (statistically below average! Way to go Seattle!)
# of yarn stores visted: 2
# of yarn store employees engaged in conversation about Facts of Life: 3
# of CDs purchased: 11
# of CDs left in rental car CD player: 1
# of movies seen about beastiality that made me sleepy and sounded like a lulluby: 1
# of shows planned on attending: 2
# of shows actually attended: 0 (PBJ was sold out - apparently they are not my secret little band anymore. and then! Pete thought Jello Biafra was on a certain saturday and he was actually on a totally different saturday!
# of job interviews: 1
# of job offers: 0 (it should be noted that # of mix tapes sent: 0, which could explain everything. why didn't i send the tape?!)
# of crime show episodes watched: not nearly as many as you'd think - late night seattle tv was a true disappointment.
# of south park episodes watched: 2 a night, every night. I'll take what I can get.
# of dreams involving Chuck Klousterman: 2! And let me tell you, waking up was hard to do. oh chuck.
# of yarn stores visted: 2
# of guilt trips received for leaving my cats with the sitter: 2 (suprisingly, one was from the sitter herself.)
# of times the valet GRABBED the tip from my hand: 2
# of times I didn't tip to prove a point: 0
# of times I imagined not tipping to prove a point: 9
# of people smelling of chicken sitting next to me on the plane ride home: 1
# of porn pamphlets delivered to me under my door upon my return: 1
# of posters hanging in my building warning of "strange persons" wandering the building, handing out 'offensive' material: 8 (that I counted)
# of cats greeting me at the door: 0 (they're so rude - teenagers.)

and there we are.
no worse for wear (what does this mean? can someone explain it to me? maybe i am worse for wear, i'm not really sure)
the most exciting this of all is that i get to go do this all over again in about two weeks.
that left coast just LOVES me.

thank god i haven't forgotten how to lie!

2007-05-16T00:18:00.000-04:00

i promised all this posting, and then promptly did not post.
how very waiting for godot of me.
**
i have four million tons of work to do (can work be equated to weight? it can now. i hereby make it so). anyway, there's 4 million tons sitting here, so i'm not even going to give you good post now, but i did need to tie up one lose end.
it's about
my new project, and the first subject, joni.
i wanted to give it a whole week, but i only made it through 4 days (with two complete listens and two partials).
if my ears were wineglasses, and if sound could actually shatter wineglasses (can it? is this true? Mythbusters?), my ears would no longer be capable of holding wine as they would be all sorts of broken.
i can't get past it. i'm sorry. forgive me.
**
this week: highway 61 revisited. to clarify, i've actually heard this album a zillion times. i heard this shit before i was born. at any given point it was playing on three or more stereos on my small college campus.
i've heard. but i never listened. and i've never listened because, well, - where's the note, bob? WHERE'S THE NOTE? Is the melody this or this? Is this even an actual SONG?

there's been a drought of things to talk about...

2007-04-30T16:19:00.000-04:00

seriously...
**
i haven't had the best week or two and i guess when that happens i sort of lose my desire to share. i know that all (4) of you are depending on me for quality posts on a regular basis, so i promise to do better in the future. for serious.
**
i don't think my pop ditty made the finals. it's a travesty. but i'll tell you something. i started reading some forums and discussion boards during the past week, mostly of people who had submitted songs and were waiting waiting waiting for the PREDESTINED call from american idol telling them that their song "Beneath my Soul Star SunShine I'm A Winner" was chosen. everyone was posting that it was basically a forgone conclusion that their song would be the one.
then there was chatter that the contestants had been notified.
This is when the boards REALLY started to light up. 'Conspiracy' they screamed. 'Scam!' 'Hoax'
I mean, these home town folks could NOT believe they had not been picked from the near 40,000 entries. people are literally GIVING up their dream of becoming a songwriter because their song wasn't chosen.
people are so dumb.
**
historically, i have prided myself on my expansive musical tastes, and better-than-average knowledge of various musical genres. recently, however, i came to the realization that I have systematically avoided seminal albums simply because i didn't really like the artist/think i really don't like the artist.
I realized this while perusing the book 1001 You Must Hear Before You Die. Now, mostly i was feeling really good about myself for owning/knowing intimately many of the albums. but there were also those albums, the ones that made me go, 'oh, shit, can people tell by the look on my face that i've never listened to 'Are You Experienced' all the way through?'
So, it's time. I've decided to suck it up.
****
every week I'm going to purchase an album that I have avoided for one reason or another for the past 28 years. In earnest, I will listen to this as my main musical meal for the whole week. At the end of the week, I will write my feelings down, and depending on said feelings, file the album away or burn it.
***
This week: Joni Mitchell, Blue
Premptive Reason for Not Liking Her: Her voice can break glass! It's sooo high!

who doesn't love a little public humiliation

2007-04-21T21:30:00.000-04:00

for those of you keeping track of my desperation, you'll know that i wrote a song for the American Idol Songwriter contest.
I thought it was only fitting to make the song readily available for ridicule, so i created a myspace profile for it.
i really hope that none of my old college professors stumble on this blog, because they'll surely cry at all the time wasted teaching me the finer points of musical composition.
but, you know, it's a POP contest. and the song was written in 2 DAYS.
GET OFF MY BACK! GOD DAMN YOU!

http://www.myspace.com/mollysamericanidoldreams

the top 20 is announced on may 2nd....stay tuned.

nostalgia thursday - double edition (part I)

2007-04-19T15:05:00.000-04:00

i have to say that nostalgia thursday has been turning out to be a pretty sad feature, and this week's are no exception. i will try to include some more fun nostalgia in the future
***
when i was younger, my parents (dad and stepmom) were notorious for holding things above my head as a sort of punishment/motivational tool. (It always went like this: "We decided that this year we really just don't have the _______ (money, time, patience, etc) to send you to ________ (theater, vacation, etc).) At the last second they would be like, "SUPRISE!" and i would get all excited cuz I had cried and cried about not being able to do what i wanted to do.
i probably should have learned since this happened EVERY time, but i always thought 'this time they mean it, I really am NOT going to camp this summer.'
***
one summer they waited a really really long time before the "SUPRISE" and it was so late, in fact, that my age group was already filled up, and I got pushed into the older age group. at first i was really sad about this, but that summer i ended up making the best friends of any summer.
this is not what the story is about, though.
***
because i got pushed up that year, the NEXT year, i had the choice of 'repeating' or moving to the next stage was being a worker at the little kids camp. i decided that would be fun, so that's what i did.
***
dg was also a worker. in the arts and crafts shack. he had red shaggy hair, ripped jeans, these sort of squinty blue eyes, and a jacket made out of old bottle caps. i was in love instantly. he was also older (i was 16 - but was still 12 in my head - and he was 20). we were just friends. but sort of crazy psychic friends.
***
i would go to the shack when he didn't have campers and we would listen to the replacements and he would lay his head in my lap and i would play with his hair.
***
when he had night duty (which was basically sitting on a picnic bench after the kids were in bed, making sure there was not 'bunk hopping' or other emergencies) i would sit with him, and one night we laid a blanket down and watched the stars and sang Les Mis songs. and we saw a shooting star.
***
towards the end of that summer, a friend of mine from back home died, and i had to go back for the funeral. when i returned to camp, dg was really great. But I'm really weird and a horrible idiot and i get nervous when people show the slightest interest in me, and so when, on the last day of camp, when he told me that he really hoped he would see me after the summer (which, in retrospect, is SO innocuous! he wasn't like, I want to take you away on a boat and make you my love slave).... but anyway, when he said that (and he was wearing his bottlecap jacket) I got all hot and nervous and said something lame, and - if memory serves - RAN away.
i don't think i officially said goodbye to him.
***
the next year, I received a postcard from him. He was in Japan.
***
that same year, i went to binghampton to visit my friend mike lee (i'm sure he'll get a nostalgia thursday at some point.) anyway, dg also went to school there, and he was directing a play so i went to see it. it was agatha christie's ten little indians. i saw him, but it was different, and i was sad, cuz i wanted to say sorry and i wanted to say how awesome he had made that summer.
i just said, 'hi. the play was really great.'
***
last year, i looked for him on the internet. and i actually succeeded (or i think i did - there is no picture, but I'm pretty sure based on other information). at that time he was living in somewhere in nyc which doesn't suprise me at all, but was still totally overwhelming. i didn't email or anything. i was just like, 'oh, look. there he is. i didn't make that up.'
***
sometimes i think i'll see him on the street. sometimes i think i'll write him a letter. sometimes i think i should call him and see if he wants some coffee.
i'm sure he's married with kids. or gay.
but still...sometimes i think...

...we now return to our regularly scheduled program...

2007-04-18T16:51:00.000-04:00

i basically didn't blog for a whole week (except for the gratuitious birthday post which none of you are interested in, especially since none of the people mentioned in it actually read this blog)
but i have some pretty good excuses. i'm not going to get into them so much, though. but you can ask and i'll tell you.
***
last week there was a big industry event in the city and so ploob and jeandu and a bunch of other folks were in new york., which is always lots of fun.
the three of us went to Century 21 and that place is nuts, so ploob and i decided we would just go eat some food. before we did though, someone came on the loudspeaker and said,
"Can I have your attention please. Can customer Pimples please join their party at the help desk." At first we couldn't believe it, but then they said it again!
ploob said, 'pimples the clown!' and we laughed and laughed.
***
ploob and i ate at Les Halles ("those cows are licking each other", said ploob). it was pretty exciting and after a struggle i went with a croque monsieur and ploob got mac and cheese. well
let me tell you something.
this sandwich was better than the best dessert i've ever had. seriously. and i'm a dessert fanatic. this sandwich was better than really good sleep. (naughty brains, i know what you're thinking, and it's better than that too.)
this is ploob looking excited about the good meal we had:

***
i'm kindof boring myself here. i thought writing about how awesome my sandwich was would be really exciting but it's not. at all.
***
OH! so, at this industry thing, i had to speak in front of a bunch of people and give a powerpoint presentation. and i was so nervous and my plams were sweaty and my voice was sort of shaky.
but i got through it.
after i was done, it was Q & A time which i was much more relaxed about for some reason.
this one guy raises his hand and basically starts heckling me, saying dumb/mean stuff about my role in this company and just other poophead stuff. my initial instinct was to, of course call him a poophead.
however, i chose instead to take the high road and started saying things like, "I will reach out my hand and say, 'hello I'm Molly'". at one point I used the phrase, "I'll step up to the line, but you have to meet me there." and the defining moment was when i said "My arms are outstretched and if you give me a hug, I will hug you back."

I KNOW!! WHAT WAS I THINKING?! i hate hugging strangers!
***
i think i might be addicted to massages. my sister called me a massage whore.
***
i submitted my song for the American Idol contest last night. overall, i'm proud of the effort. if it gets picked for the top 20 i'll be pretty confident that it's the best thing ever. so we're still waiting to hear about that.
***
remember how a while ago i was talking about how waiting to hear from a job is like waiting to hear from a boy? well, i still haven't heard from the boy, BUT i heard from his mother.
(note: in this senario, the mother is representative of the recruiter). she used words like "very" and "really" so over all, a good sign.
***
in the past 87 minutes i have eaten almost 1/2 lb. of pistachios. i do not feel well.
***
Look forward to : NOSTALGIA THURDAY: DOUBLE (cuz i missed last week) EDITION, tomorrow!

cuz you were born today but in another year!!!

2007-04-16T18:03:00.000-04:00

4/17/73

happy birthday, prilly!! i heart you more than i heart anyone ever.

4/16/78

happy birthday, beast! NEVER FUCKING DIE!

4/14/05

happy birthday, aj! Forget what i said up there about your mom. You're the one i heart more than anyone ever!

no time like the present...

2007-04-08T20:29:00.000-04:00

to sell out!
two things happened this weekend that came together like that crazy epoxy and it was all sticky and amazing! (oh, eww, that seems wrong now that i said it)
so this is the first thing: i watched this movie called Fired! and it's mostly comedians talking about how they were fired from various straight jobs. One of the comics said something that struck me as really profound (i have allergies so my profound bar is set pretty low). Anyway, what he said was this:

"do what got you invited to the party"

I thought like, wow, yeah, that makes so much sense. I added my own explaination to the end and it went 'if you're the clown, be the clown, don't try and be the caterer'

so, this was swimming in my head when I trained off to ct to see cranky baby and family.

while we were there, my brother-in-law asked, 'Are you going to enter the American Idol Songwriting Contest?'

***

Two hours later, I completed my ode to American Idol, and it's really about 'doing what got you invited to the party'. It's called Shine (hopefully nobody steals my title), and once I submit it (next week) i'm going to try and post it on my site so you can laugh and laugh and laugh. and shine, of course. there should be lots of shining.

step one: take over the world

2007-04-06T12:43:00.000-04:00

i'm working on the logo for my new business venture, and i'm actually really excited about this one, cuz i could really use them, so even if i don't sell any, they'll still be handy for me.

They are called (omitted because Pete. thinks someone might STEAL IT!)

here are two initial logos.
please tell me your thoughts.

UPDATE: To give you all a better idea of what these will look like, I created a prototype. Here you go! The world's first (omitted...again)(the URL is not real)

UPDATE UPDATE: Pete. told me that maybe someone would try and steal my business idea, and since i'm never one to turn down some paranoia, i was like "WHAT? THOSE THIEVERS! LET ME AT EM!"

so that's why this post is so boring. i should have deleted it entirely, but that just seems wrong.

nostalgia thursday

2007-04-05T16:07:00.000-04:00

when reject all american came out in 1996 , elijah and i threw a party. it had been almost three years since the last bikini kill album, and we spent most of that time daydreaming about how kathleen hanna would embody every feeling we'd ever had into an album AGAIN.
***
i listened to it 4 million times without really paying attention to the lyrics. this was the general pattern. first we would soak up the music, while elijah feasted on the booklets. i didn't look at the booklet until i was pretty comfortable with an album - i didn't want to see anything that would jade my sense of the music (this is also why i don't like reading movie reviews before i've seen them). This album was full of pop and even almost melodic and mellow. it was spring time and the snow was melting in the catskills, and there was nothing in the world but me, elijah and this album.
***
it was finally time for me to delve into the lyrics. Everything was fun and good, and i thought that i didn't really understand some of what kathleen was talking about but that was ok because it was just such a good album.
and then...
RIP
***
RIP is a song Kathleen wrote about a friend who died of AIDS. It's suprisingly sparce, with minimal instrumentation. mostly, it's just kathleen singing, and then screaming about how fucked up it is that her friend died.
***
We were sitting outside on the trampoline in elijah's back yard. we pointed the speakers out the windows and jumped around, dreaming of our future as punk rockers.
but when RIP came on i suddenly started dreaming about staring over elijah's grave, where he lay dead and cold.
i had thought of death before - relating to friends and family (in fact, a close friend of mine had died that previous summer) but in spite, or perhaps because, of that - i turned quickly into a blubbering mess.
***
i was crying, snot running down my nose, and i was screaming at elijah, 'Don't die. never fucking die.' he was confused and then just laughed at me (if any of you are thinking, 'how mean that he laughed, let me tell you a little something about elijah. his is the only person - family excepted - that knew me at my most deranged and stood by me to this day. it takes an unbelievably strong person to do that)
***
in his senior yearbook that year, i wrote a 30 page tome, and at the bottom i wrote, 'don't die. never fucking die.'
he wrote something about me being the most melodramatic person he's even known.
***

RIP

i can't say everything about it

in just one single song

i can't put how i feel in a package

and sell it back to everyone

but wait

there's another boy genius who's fucking gone

i hope the food tastes better in heaven

i'm know there's lots of rad queer boys up there

i hope every time they talk to you

they know they're lucky to be your friend

cuz look

there's another boy genius who's fucking gone

and i wouldn't be so fucking mad so fucking pissed off

if it wasn't so fucking wrong

it's all fucking wrong

it's not fair, it's not fair, it's not fair

but no one said life was easy

yeah, but no one said, no one said

nothing's supposed to happen right.

no, no one told me anything

to prepare me for fucking this.

there's another boy genius who's fucking gone

don't tell me it don't matter

don't tell me i've had three days to get over it

it won't go away

it just won't go away.

Happy Freedom, Pete!

2007-04-05T15:33:00.000-04:00

was it something i said?

2007-04-05T11:23:00.000-04:00

waiting to hear about a job is like waiting for a boy to call.
***
at first i thought it had gone so well. i mean, we laughed, we joked, we bonded. i felt like there might be some potential. of course, i tried to play it cool, you know, not too desperate - "breezy".
there was talk of another meeting, and i said something 'cas' like "cool. that'd be great."
***
i sent a thank you that day (Friday), which i suppose diverges from the normal dating metaphor i'm trying to create. i'm pretty sure "thank you for the dinner and movie. i would love to see you again to discuss how i might be a benefit to your lovelife" would not be appropriate in most dating circumstances.
***
The weekend went by quickly - I filled my days with mindless activities, like playing house with aj and watching a 'Flip That House' marathon.
***
By Tuesday, I had fallen into a mild depression. Maybe it hadn't gone so well. Why had I said that thing about sno-cones? My thank-you letter was so DUMB! Why did i use that stupid Fall Out Boy quote. Oh my god, i'm going to die and old lonely hag.
***
On Wednesday, I decided, well, nothing to lose now. So I emailed him. "Hey, what's up...I'm breezy...let's talk soon...I'm totally not thinking about this at all but just thought i'd email you to show you that even though i'm not at all thinking about it i'm still really interested but not in a desperate way"
***
He's probably really busy - Ploob
Maybe he's sick - Prilly
Oh, honey, stop being stupid - Mom
Maybe he's DEAD! - Me
***
This morning I met with someone about a job opening here in the city. I'm supposed to meet with them again next week.
secretly, though, i am still hoping the first boy will call.

please put the scissors down and step away from the baby.

2007-04-04T17:28:00.000-04:00

aj's hair grows like a cheeah pet on miracle grow. prilly had taken her to the kiddie salon (where I guess they charge $40 and cut off enough hair to give a worm a mustache.)
however, aj's bangs were now thwarting her development as, she could no longer identify colors through the blanket of hair.
***
prilly took aj on a play date and the other mother was like, "Seriously, she needs a haircut." and prilly was all, "But they charge $40 and it just seems so insane." And other mom was like, "Just do it yourself!!" and prilly was, "No Way!" so other mom was all, "I'll do it."
***
apparently, other mom though aj was going out for a role in Dumb and Most Dummerest of All.

manic monday or in another, more accurate way, boring dumb monday

2007-04-03T00:06:00.000-04:00

the haircut i got last week is finally relaxing a little so i'm looking less like a mullet baby. if i pull really tight i can get most of the back into a little ponytail.
***
after work i got a reflexology massage. the music they had playing was really awful, but luckily i had my ipod so i listened to sigur ros. there's this strange thing that happens now whenever i listen to sigur ros, and this is it:
last year shaniac took me to aruba on a poker trip he won. i spent three days on the beach, getting sprayed by rose water by the impoverished locals and reading I Am Charlotte Simmons. I also listened to a lot of sigur ros.
now, whenever I hear sigur ros, I always think of Charlotte! I can't not think of her.
So, I'm getting this reflexology, and suddenly I'm getting all sad about how nobody understands Charlotte. It was making me so tense, I had to take of the aromatherapy eye mask and change the music. I chose the stars. no strange literary imagery associated with them yet, thank god.
***
i'm now hunkering down for a planet earth marathon. my new dv-r is working splendidly, and as always, i drank coffee after 8pm (I had a reason, really. I was meeting someone at Starbucks. How does one wait in a Starbucks without drinking coffee? Even being a non-fan of Starbucks. It just seems...wrong somehow.) Anyway, i finished the cup around 11pm, so no sleep for brooklyn or me, it seems.

On a Boat, Headed For the Shore. Goin' to Guilder to Start A War

2007-04-02T00:16:00.000-04:00

when i was in high school, my friend laura and i (who i haven't spoken to in over 10 years but remains one of my favorite people on the planet) started a band - or it was really just a concept of a band - called the Movies. It was just going to be us, a casio, and a bass drum. the music was to be electro-pop hip-hop. and all the songs were to be about, shocker, movies.
(strangely i was in another band called the Movies years later, but this was an actual band and it was a trio with guitar, bass, and violin and the songs were not about movies but mostly minor modulations on popular songs by the Go-Gos and the Bangles).
***
The original the Movies never made it much based the planning stage, but we did manage to write lyrics to three songs, and a semi-beat melody to one. They were about ET, the Goonies, and the Princess Bride.
***
while digging through the back of my closet I came across the 'box which should never be opened' which contains, among other things, my old journals (the other things include old college-year angry letters from elijah. during one previous rummage, i pulled out the letters, read them, and immediately broke down into tears. i called him frantic, saying how awful a person i was and how he must hate me. after laughing at me and telling me how crazy i was, he told me to burn them. of course i didn't - can't ever have too many reminders of what a terrible friend you've been - so i put them in the box and swore never to open it)
***
going through the old journals I came across the lyrics to the songs laura and i had written. and i have to say, some of it is pure genius.
the world has changed a lot since 1992, but if anything, i think these songs would have more staying power today.
this is why i am proud to announce the official reunion of the Movies (only 50% of the original line-up, which usually spells disaster, but i'm feeling confident.)
the casio is being replaced by a yamaha, and the bass drum by a yamaha. but the spirit remains the same.
***
on a different, but similar note: do you think people would be interested in seeing a musical version of Friends?

nostalgia thursday NEW FEATURE

2007-03-29T17:26:00.000-04:00

every thursday, i'm going to give myself a good dose of nostalgia. extra points for you if it's similarly nostalgic.

this week: i wish my heros left messages on my answering machine!(circa 1995)

" 'Hey, don't run by the pool. No cutoffs!' ....No. But ummm. Mr. Watt. Dude. Babe. Sir. Uh, you need to get me my fuckin Annie soundtrack back like soon cuz you've had it forever and I know you haven't even fuckin listened to it yet."

the drumming makes me want to shoot myself...

2007-03-29T12:15:00.000-04:00

i'm still on the fence about the new low album, drums & guns. it's almost too sonic. if that makes sense. i still haven't given it the 'isolation tank' test, whereby i wrap myself tightly in a cacoon of cotton, turn out all the lights and listen with my toes. i swear i'm not a hippie, it's just something i do.
***
i'm majorly in love with chuck klosterman. for a long time there was only one person i could think of that i would marry instantly without having ever met them. that was larry david. i think i might have to add chuck to the list - even know i know chuck would never GET married like that. i'm just saying.
***
he says things that i've been thinking in my head, and also things that - now that he's said then - that's what i think about.
mostly though, he's the first person who was able to express exactly why music supervision is the thread that holds together the universe, and that without it, modern society would be an emotionally-numb wasteland.
when i'm feeling saucy (and when i decide to screw copywrite law) I'll transcribe the whole piece here, but for now, just a taste:

Without a soundtrack, human interaction is meaningless...I never have any idea how people feel; they always appear fine to me. But if somebody at pointedly played Pat Benatar's "Love is a Battlefield" that night, Im sure I could have constructed some empathy."

***
additional required reading (not by chuck):
Love Is a Mix Tape: Life and Loss, One Song at a Time (i bought it at powells so the link only seemed fair)

here lies dv-r

2007-03-28T13:22:00.000-04:00

this morning i woke up to the sun shining through the shades and a cool breeze on my face. it was gonna be a good day.
i decided to make some oatmeal (start the day off right) so i pulled out the Steel Cut (only the best for me) and started measuring.
'what's missing', i thought.
'i know! the lovely sound of NY1 telling me what to expect on my commute.'
i go to my handy dandy cable box but something is awry.
where once glowed the red beacon of hour and minute, now lay black and cold. it was like the life had just gone out of the box.
i unplugged, pushed, tweezed, and - i admit - hit the box, but to no avail.
i frantically called Time Warner and explained the whole situation.
"Oh, yeah," Robert the customer service agent said, "your box is broke."
***
ever since i got my dv-r, the quality level of programming i watch has slowly diminished. where once you would find me watching the Daily Show or CBS Sunday Morning, you can now find me gleefully zipping through the Hills and Dog: The Bounty Hunter.
Because of this, and because of my somewhat heavy travel schedule, I often have a backlog (or what I liked to call 'an arsenal' of shows). Often it's the shows I actually enjoy that sit the longest, because when it's two am on a wednesday and i can't sleep, my brain can't handle much more than who got kicked off the RW/RR Challenge.
This is the reason why, at last count, I had 4 episodes of Lost, 4 or 5 episodes of Heros, one House, two Law & Orders, a Law & Order: SVU, and an Ugly Betty in my arsenal.
***
"Yup," said Robert, "you gonna havta get a new box."
"I'm sure there's something you can do with this box. It worked perfectly last night"
"Nope, best thing is to bring it in and get an exchange."
"Well, when I exchange it, they'll just transfer my arsenal, right?"
"Your what?"
***
I explained my situation to Robert, but he was suprisingly unsympathetic. Apparently, when these boxes break, the arsenals of tv they hold, are also lost forever. gone.
***
if it were the winter, i would probably not have the power to type this post through the flood of tears.
but, it's not winter, and i watch too much tv. so this is probably one of the best things that could have happened to me.
by default, i no longer watch Lost or Heros. i mean, this is a big big step. i'll probably start taping House again, but I may wait for the Ugly Betty DVD.
***
How will I spend my newfound hours?
Well, I've started writing the outline for a musical about the subway.
it's gonna be fucking huge.
also, the new season of the Deadliest Catch is starting next week. so, my schedule looks pretty full.

what if you're already IN america?

2007-03-27T16:48:00.000-04:00

i take a writing class at night, in a building that's a grade school during the day. there was this sign hanging up in the hallway:
well, here I am america. where's all this food you speak of?
***
i spoke with the recruiter for the best job in the whole world ever and, as suspected, there has been lots of activity. everyone wants this job. everyone was made for this job. this is why i'm confused. i know i was made for this job. i also know that i am unlike most people in the world. if i apply my high school logic skills it would mean that most people are NOT made for this job, as they are NOT made like me.
someone is lying and i'm going to figure it out and i'm going to beat their ass.
***
the recruiter was really nice. i could tell she was a little skeptical of my job experience, mostly about the fact that: "current roll:new roll as the plague:pink lady apple"
but i am confident.
she also asked me what set me apart, and wondered if I though of doing something creative.
creative? ME?
***
the mix is sitting here, waiting to be sent. i was waffling, but now, i think i've flipped that pancake. it's in the mail first thing.
track listing to follow.

liar, liar, pants on fire - part I

2007-03-26T13:00:00.000-04:00

this morning, my friend tb emailed me. after reading this post, he had some not-so-subtle corrections for me:

let's get something totally clear. i have NEVER been the person who starts a
sentence with, "Ok, so what does it mean if a boy...." or "if there's a boy,
and..." or "you're a boy, help me understand this..."
that is patently untrue.

this could mean a few things. a)i lied on my blog which, i mean, is possibly the most counter-intuitive things i can thing of. or b)i have no concept of what i'm like actually like as a person, or what types of things come out of my mouth.
or c) who the hell is tb and how dare he use the words "patently untrue"
***
this might be a good time to bring up something i like to call, 'my history of lying'. it took me until college to start feeling comfortable sharing these stories, mostly because i was afraid people would assume i was still the big outrageous liar i was when i was a kid (but trust me, my imagination has dwindled in my old age and i no longer have the energy to think up these zingers).
but, as a child, zing away i did. it's interesting to note that my sister also had a penchant for the untrue. we never collaborated, colluded, or held Lie Post-Mortems. in our very separate lives, we both found strange comfort (?), power (?), attention (!) in the same hobby.
***
i'm not going to spill all the beans just now, but let's just start with something small.
***
on several occasions (several, several - in hindsight, my imagination was light years beyond my logic, and most of my lies proved themselves as such with little to no examination) i would take the ace bandage that i had repossessed from my mother's first aid kit, and wrap it around various appendages (wrist, ankle, hand...knee...FOREHEAD) and weave tales for my grade school friends - falling off the porch, out of tree, wrestling a wild bear ('cuz i live way up in those mountains where there ain't nothin but bears and cyyyotes.')
i'm sure my teachers would have thought i was seriously abused if i knew how to actually wrap the bandage correctly. as it was, i mostly just wrapped it around and around until i had an inch of ace padding looped around my 'injury'.
***
next week's story: How an answering machine tape ruined my life

remember that dumb "foot in the door" story?

2007-03-23T14:17:00.000-04:00

i think i was a junior in high school, and our english teacher was giving us a pep talk about college, and how "awesome" it was, and how we should "do it".
she told us this story about a guy sent a big hollowcore door to the admissions office of some school, and he had paper mached a foot on it. and there was a note that was like, 'i'm just trying to get my foot in the door.'
the first mistake i made, in a long line of them, was thinking this was a really cool story.
***
years later, i was informed by my friend adam that his friend, mr. man, was hiring a marketing assistant at miramax. this was back when miramax was actually miramax, and the movies they spun were gold, and nothing in my life would please me more than working for the most notorious jerkoff in the entire universe.
what to do? what to do?
adam and i brainstormed possible cover letters. i suggested sending donuts.

finally, it came to us. instead of sending a boring resume, why not send a 'not at all boring one-sheet (aka movie poster)'.

the first mistake adam made was agree that this was a really great idea.

***
step one: i went through the list of movies miramax had coming out in the future, looking for one that would play well, one with certain cache, and a name that was easily 'playoffable'.
final verdict: Kill Bill, Vol I
the movie had been creating a fair amount of buzz, and the marketing at that point had been minimal and mysterious.
***
with the seed of an idea, I went to work on MS Paint (that's right folks, no lazy photoshop days for me. i went totally hardcore and totally old school).
I slaved and slaved. sleepless nights. pounds of coffee. mouse blisters.
***
after a week of turmoil, i had finally finished it. taking the file to kinko's, i had them print it out, full size, on high gloss paper (total cost: $160).
I rolled it up with love, and shipped it off to my destiny.
***
days turned to weeks and i heard nothing. i could tell adam was avoiding talking about it.
finally i just said to him, 'i should have gone with the donuts, right?'
***
a few months later, i asked adam if he thought he could get the poster back from his friend, seeing as my mom would probably hang it on the wall in the study.
***
i wonder if i would have gotten the job had i not sent this huge promotional poster of myself. i kept thinking, 'if i were hiring for something, and someone sent me a huge promotional poster, i would be so totally psyched.' i mean, when i managed newbury comics, kids did all sorts of shit to try and get that job (the most successful of which was a girl who consistently broke down my will with daily black and white cookie presents)
***
it's probably all for the best, since i would like be out of a job at this point crying about the fact that i spent $160 to get a job that has left me homeless and worthless.
***
now, for your enjoyment, a visual:

what's another word for "if this doesn't happen i will die, just DIE"

2007-03-21T16:38:00.000-04:00

today i had my mid-year career discussion. a lot of it is about "ratings" and "competencies" and "job skills".
all things considered, it went well. it did, however, clarify my need to pursue other job opportunities.
which is fucking scary.
***
i tried to draw a map, on one side is me and all my current skills. on the other side is MUSIC SUPERVISION.
you would not know it is a map, though, because there is currently no middle.
maybe i'll put the delorian in the middle, because if anything can make it happen, the delorian can.
***
so, i sent an email requesting an "informational" for the best job in the whole world ever(see below). in order to compose the email, i cleared off my desk and put on my headphones.
then i created a playlist of songs that felt empowering and happy and about new beginnings (it started with Brand New Love by Sebadoh and ended with Brand New Life by Young Marble Giants).
the irony that i was making a mix to write an email about how much i love making mixes was not even slightly lost on me. however, it had to be done.
i wrote and re-wrote and edited a lot. one line that didn't make it in was this,

"I’m sure many people have come to you, declaring they were born for this job. I’m pretty sure, though, that they’re wrong."
***
i ended up towing the more traditional line, talking about my "experience" and "job skills".

and so we wait.
***
do you think that when i become a music supervisor i'll look back at all this frustration and remember - i mean, really remember - how badly i wanted it? i fucking hope so.

**
update: in my comments, dk suggested I send the email recepient the mix i made. i had thought about this too, but kept having horrible miramax flashbacks (stay tuned for this story). anyway, i'm putting it to a blog reader vote.
should i?
update update: how embarrassing! i've asked for a vote and nobody has voted. so i am officially closing the vote. this way, it's not like nobody vote, it's because i said there was no vote. you see, it was my decision! i am not a loser. i am decisive, action-oriented, cool person.

who am i, and what did you do with me?

2007-03-20T17:28:00.000-04:00

let's get something totally clear. i have NEVER been the person who starts a sentence with, "Ok, so what does it mean if a boy...." or "if there's a boy, and..." or "you're a boy, help me understand this..."
so you can imagine my total shock when i turned around in my chair today, and proclaimed to my cubicle neighbors, "So, if a boy emails you, and then..."
***
i've been single forever. so why, now, is it such a big problem? is it the weather? the organic foods i've been trying to eat? i mean, seriously, wtf?
i think, in the past, i've gone two years without even thinking about hand holding, and now, all i want are intertwined fingers and spagetti for two.
***
do not tell ANYONE this, but the other day, i sat in the bookstore and read (cover to cover) "He's Just Not That Into You". I KNOW! truly pathetic.
***
let's get serious for a minute. i'm turning into someone i don't really like. i'm not sure how to fix it, but i'm becoming more and more annoying by the minute.
even right now, i'm thinking, "but why hasn't he emailed?" right now as i type a blog post about how much i HATE that!
in fact, as i type, i am having a side conversation with ploob via IM, which includes these phrases:

ploob says:
you wrote him back when?

and
ploob says:
maybe he's super busy this week

and

ploob says:
i would start to be concerned on thurs afternoon

uuuuug. i'm concerned right now. very very concerned.

omgomgomgomgomgomgomgomgomgomg or "the best job in the whole world ever"

2007-03-17T10:42:00.000-04:00

so, i work for a kinda big company that has lots of different things going on all the time. for the past little while i've been looking into opportunities within the company that may help set-up the foundation for my future career (this is my attempt at positive thinking) as a music supervisor.
it was a longshot, but what the hell.
***
well, HOLY SHIT. i struck gold. granted it's sortof rusty gold that can only be mined in another part of the country, but it's fucking gold!
basically, the job is merchandising an online music portal, managing genre content, creating thematic playlists (umm, yeah, i make mix tapes for a living. HELLO?), working with labels and distro. reps.
as you can tell, i'm trying to remain very calm and even-keel about it, as there are a few hurdles.

one: the job was posted back in february. sometimes the career site doesn't get updated as it should. how could this job possibly lasted this long?
two: the job is located at the company's main headquarters, which is far far away from new york.
three: i certainly have the required experience (which includes, i might add, an undying love for music), but my newbury comics days were many years ago, so that might put me at a disadvantage.
***
this being said, i have to have this job. according to oprah and that book that's all the rage, i can will things to me by the power of thought. so i was thinking, other people can probably will things to me with their thoughts, too.
in the next week or two, whenever you think of me, please include the following phrase (or something similar of your own construction) in the thoughts,

"Molly will get this job. This job is perfect for Molly. Molly will love this job. This job will love Molly. Molly has perfect skin."

(I threw that last one in there cuz this weather is making me really dry.)

can i change my mind about being a pet person?

2007-03-15T00:54:00.000-04:00

i bought a set of really nice sheets, you know, with the high thread count.
i thought for a while what color I should get, and finally settled on black, for a few reasons:
1. my goal is to have the bedroom be all black, white, and tan. and the blanket is already tan. and white sheets, um, no.
2. black sheets are dark and don't reflect light so i thought they might help me sleep better.
***
ok, great. so i get them home. and put them on the bed.
i woke up this morning and the sheets were no longer black.
they were orange.
"Why were they orange?" you'll ask. "How does one's expensive black sheet turn suddenly overnight into an orange sheet."
and i'll answer, "If you take a very fat, obnoxious cat - who happens to be orange, funny thing - and have it roll and roll and flop and lop and sit and spin on the aforementioned black sheet, it will, in fact, turn orange.
***
i am sad, and also slightly to very disgusted.
***
i just spent $15 on a bar of chocolate.
it tastes like coffee.

None of the Fish In The Sea Like You....

2007-03-12T23:22:00.000-04:00

two years ago my sister called me in a fit. "i was just watching this commercial for eHarmony and it sounds exactly like what you need and i'll pay for it so you have no excuse."
she was so pumped for it, that i got pumped for it. i logged in right then and there and started filling out the 230 page questionaire.
it was an excrutiating experience, delving into the very core of who i was as a person and what i wanted from this life. i had to face some hard truths about myself, and yes, there may have been tears. the thought that kept me going was knowing that all this work was leading me towards my destiny. and destiny should be a little work, right?
finally, i finished checking off that YES, i do like board games and NO, i am not interested in religious community. the big red finish line, a button that said "FIND MY MATCHES".
I clicked.
the machine churned and spun. Beee Baa Boo Bee Bop, when the computer. A message on the screen, "We are searching our database of over 12 million people to find those who are compatible with you on the deepest level." 'YES! My Deep Levels need connecting!' I think.
And then.
Another message on the screen.
"We're sorry, but we were unable to find any compatible matches..." It went on to say something about how people sign up every day and to check back. But all I saw was, "You are totally incompatible. There is nobody interested in your deep levels. Too Bad. HAHA. Loser."
***
A few hours ago, I re-did the questionaire and joined eHarmony again.
Why do i torture myself?
Well, i am so totally sick, done, OVER being single. it's so last year. i tried the whole, when you're not looking it will find you. i tried the whole, if you believe it will come to you, it will. i tried a push-up bra and four vodka and tonics at a downtown bar (and i don't drink, so that was a complete mess).
***
this time around, i got matches right away. 5 of them actually. in the last hour, 3 of them have "CLOSED" me (this means that they saw my profile and were not interested). This leaves 2.
One of them, I'm pretty sure, I was matched with during my first round (the system did eventually find a few souls that matched my 27 points of compatibility). It concerns me that he's still on eHarmony after two years, but who the hell am I too judge.
the other match lives in the middle of New Jersey. that's all i have to say about that.
***
the curmudgeon boy who eats bagels and lox is not jewish.
i know. i was shocked. my world is in all sorts of disarray.
***
if you know why i'm single, please feel free to share your insight.

letters from the sick ward

2007-03-05T19:02:00.000-05:00

last night, sboo, prilly and i went to books-a-million - a bookstore in the nearby mall that i thought was one of those huge discount bookstores, but was really a regular bookstore with a few discounted items (including SO MANY copies of James Earl Jones reading the bible).
I spent a bunch of money on books, including this one called, "Why You're Still Single", which my sister didn't think was a smart purchase. i read the first chapter this morning, and she was right.
***
anyway, we got back to the house and everyone was shuffling off to bed. my aunt and cousin had come in, as well as my father's parents (60 is a big birthday, i guess, so they were all there to support him). anyway, this meant that i had to sleep on this chaise lounge thing made of foam and courdoroy, and sboo and prilly had to sleep on the world's most uncomfortable pull out sofa ever in the history of pull out sofas.
we were all complainy laney about our sleeping arrangements when we hear, "BLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOPHHHHHHHGGGG", coming from the bathroom.
it was my cousin, vomitting like a drunk chick on spring break.
***
this morning, we were all drinking our coffee when we heard, "BLLLLLOOOOOOPHHHHHHGGGG", coming from the bathroom.
it was my grandma, vomitting like a drink chick on spring break.
the virus had hit merritt island.
***
apparently, my aunt had been violently ill a few days before the trip, but didn't think anything of it. she had brought her gross stomach creepy crawlies with her, and they were slowly infesting the whole family. sboo and prilly were very concerned that aj would get ill, so they immediately started calling all the airlines trying to change our flights. my dad was very upset about this. he was like, 'Mom, you should leave!' and then my aunt was like, 'She's puking in the bathroom, how is she supposed to sit in a car for three hours?' (they had driven in from some other part of Florida) Basically, my dad was kicking his violently ill mom, sister, neice, and dad out of the house because he didn't want us - the children - to leave.
it was both funny and sad.
***
i should go now, because everyone is watching Jeopardy and i don't want to seem like a party pooper. but one thing.
-If the same person who uses the word curmudgeon also talks about enjoying a good bagel and lox, does this make them jewish?
***
unrelated but important:
let's say you met someone online, but without a picture. you've talked to them via email a few times, and talked about the "idea" of getting together. if this person has not, at any time, asked for a photo or a description of what you look like, what does that mean?