Behind the Curve
Thursday, September 30, 2004
It occurs to me
that I have never seen childhood photographs of any man that I've slept with. Perhaps this is odd. Then again, I don't keep childhood photographs of myself either.
Lunchtime entertainment
The other day was staring out the window, watching an elderly drunk man attempting to walk down the block. He fell/sat down several times, and his torso did not seem to be receiving any signals from his legs. He kept needing to grab onto the nearby scaffolding for support. We cheered him on through the perilous street crossings. (Of course, he could neither see nor hear us.) Finally, another pedestrian came to his aid, and we went back to work.
Monday, September 27, 2004
Ironic
Oh yeah, someone robbed the women's locker room of a lot of cash during the TaeKwon-do test this weekend. There were only, like, a million black belts milling around. No doubt my martial arts master is livid, and we're all in for a major reaming. But perhaps I'll miss it, being injured and not really around so much these days.
Sunday, September 26, 2004
Domesticity
One of my roommates is some sort of manager/supervisor in a Big Corporate Financial-Type Place. She works insane hours and is simultaneously studying for her MBA. But during her off hours she watches the Food Network and the Fine Living Channel (cable). Occasionally she cooks something really incredible, like a seafood risotto, and I am awed. She has a subscription to Martha Stewart Living. She also knits. She is knitting a turtleneck sweater right now, but before that she made a cozy for her calculator. Last week I helped her set the VCR to tape a knitting program on the Do It Yourself Network.
This is both charming and beyond my comprehension. One might fear that she is doing all this out of a sense of inadequacy, out of some sort of fear that she must be perfect on all fronts, or be worth nothing. One might lament that such a stong and independent businesswoman still feels the need to satisfy traditional stereotypes of femininity.
But having lived with the woman for three years, I have to say she that really just enjoys cooking and knitting.
My cousin Rory recently married a woman who honestly loves to clean. So such things still are possible.
Dilemma
Do I go to the gym to lift weights, and risk the withering scorn of everyone there for being at the gym when it's a such a beautiful day? Wait a minute, if they're at the gym to think that, then they're at least as pathetic as I am. But maybe most of them work there, so they will feel superior for not having chosen, like a dweeb, to be indoors on this balmy weekend afternoon. But maybe then I can feel superior, because I have a desk job and weekends off. Hmm...
OK, maybe I'll wait until the sun sets, and then go to the gym.
Existence is futile
At my cube-mate's last job, he was in charge of designing and tracking response rates for those subscription cards they stick in magazines. He discovered that the cards designed to fall out of the magazine upon opening it are the ones that generate the greatest response rates.
And you thought your job was pointless.
Friday, September 24, 2004
Hard Boiled
Hey, the new Billa Chaka book by Isaac Adamson is out! It is called Kinki Lullaby and features puppets! I'm so there.
Thursday, September 23, 2004
58 inches and more!
I was in a Gap Kids yesterday, and I was too short to reach the pants I wanted. I asked the sales clerk to get me a boy’s 12 Plus. Upon handing it to me, she said "This is way too short for you." I held it up to myself to see. It was, if anything, rather large and lengthy. "Really?" I said.
"Well, from here they looked like they would be too short."
I'm not quite 59 inches high. Is that so wrong?
Finished reading will@epicqwest.com, which despite being gimmicky and slick (incredibly slick) was surprisingly heartfelt. I may need to buy it someday, but for now I've got my eye on Dave Eggers' new book of short stories. Drool.
Tuesday, September 21, 2004
Angels in China
According to the New York Times, there is a man who walks the Yangtze River Bridge in China, saving the suicidal from themselves.
Sweet!
It occurs to me that Splenda, unlike Sweet 'n Low and more than Equal, sounds like it could be a prescription medication as well as a sweetness enhancer. Splenda. Allegra. Splenda. Paxil. Splenda. Celebrex. Prozac. Madonna.
In contrast, Zelnorm (Irritable Bowel Syndrome medication), sounds like a robot from a 50s sci-fi B-movie. "Quick, Zelnorm, the ray gun!"
More possible drug names:
Jubilex
Celestra
Extacil
Nirvanex
Lumenex
Transcenda
Saluphed
Pepsi
Stomach hurts. No doubt due to the 2400 mg of ibuprofen a day.
Monday, September 20, 2004
On family
So, Dave says I am depreciating and should have children soon. To which I reply there are thousands of unwanted girl babies in China, one of which I will mail order when the time is right (10 years or so). For God's sake.
I dislike the feel of Mondays
Saw Sky Captain. It was pretty slick looking, and yet disappointing. Despite the retro look, it reminded me more of the Tomb Raider series than anything else, and I’m not a fan of Tomb Raider. Also, I believe one of my coworkers described Jude Law as "womanly."
Hmm. Yes, truthfully, Jude law has very pretty eyes.
Had dinner with my parents on Sunday: yummy crab cakes and really gooey chocolate cake with ice cream and tea. I’m supposed to avoid impact on my knee for another week and a half, so I am going to be really fat!
I attempted running down the block, and while it didn’t hurt much, it did hurt a bit. No doubt everyone at martial arts thinks I’m an extreme wimp and am just making excuses. My martial arts master is so done with me. I’d kill myself, but I’d want to lose 10 lbs. first. Sigh!
Well, it’s OK. I had Subway for lunch.
Friday, September 17, 2004
Thursday, September 16, 2004
Wednesday, September 15, 2004
Idle musings
If I time Tuesdays just right, I can be at the gym and on the treadmill when "Father of the Pride" comes on. The subtleties of "Last Comic Standing" and "The Apprentice" are just too attention demanding when I’m jogging at 6 miles per hour. This is why jocks are dumb – they don’t have enough breath left to think.
Unrelated – the other day, a random guy asked me how I felt about the number 13. Apparently, he both lives and works on thirteenth floors. I feel sorry for the number 13. It’s got a bad rep. It should not masquerade as 14. Be true to yourself, my brother!
Tuesday, September 14, 2004
Inexplicable Things
My father just characterized Kill Bill and Kill Bill 2 as chick flicks. I would kick him, but he’s in the Bronx, and I’m lazy.
Finished reading Ascending Peculiarity, a compilation of interviews with Edward Gorey, who is, sadly, dead. What an odd man he was! Out of respect for his asexual pseudo-English/Victorianish inclinations, I will characterize him as a male spinster. I love the way he says things like "That will fix you, Edmund." Perhaps I shall go around saying things like that. "That will fix you!"
Oh, and my coworker Taylor is unable to make it to work this morning because a big dog is keeping him trapped inside his apartment. (?!?!) I hope it’s not a chihuahua. That would just be sad.
Monday, September 13, 2004
Saturday, September 11, 2004
Calculations
Reasons to move back with my parents:
1. To save money. (This is the big one.) Eventually I could think of buying my own place.
2. I wouldn't have to cook anymore! I am so lazy. And my father is a decent cook.
3. My parents have a much better computer. Face it, it's really wasted on them.
Reasons not to move back:
1. It's in the Bronx! I hate commuting! Hate hate hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate.
2. They don't get any of the cable channels I watch. I'm talking Cartoon Network, and TBS, and Sundance. That stuff is all basic Time Warner. Also, my father is addicted to CNN. Doesn't he know you can get all that info from CNN.com?
3. Decent sushi in Riverdale? I don't think so.
4. All my friends live either in Manhattan or one of the cooler boroughs. Face it, the Bronx is a friggin' wasteland. I mean, Riverdale has a lot of nature and...um...that's about it.
Hmm... this bears pondering.
Friday, September 10, 2004
Woo hoo!
Apparently, it is OK for me to take 800 mg of ibuprofen (that's FOUR Advil liqui-gels!) 3x a day.
More Than That = Instant Death by Stomach Rupture
I like taking pills. No cause for concern; I’m a neurotic, trichotillomaniac, and a nailbiter, but not so much even a hypochondriac. The maintenance of me has grown to require a daily influx of antibiotics, anti-infammatories, drospirenone, and M&Ms. A lot of little pills, but nothing particularly impressive. Sigmund Freud and any of my ex-boyfriends would tell you I just needed to get laid.
Heh. Motherfuckers.
Thursday, September 09, 2004
I'm *tired* of blondes
A note to the people who make Batman movies: I think the world is ready for an Asian American Batgirl. She could have dyed red hair. Many of us do. I was so bummed out when they chose Alicia Silverstone to be the last Batgirl. I mean, she's no Yvonne Craig! Anyhow, I think truly multiethnic superheroes would be cool. You know, a super-strong Bengali guy, a Cambodian girl who flies.
Um, well, see if I care?
It’s hard to tell if my knee is any worse today than it was on Tuesday before I did martial arts and jogging on it. God, I’m out of shape. Didn’t make it to martial arts yesterday, because I was so late getting in to work and couldn’t spare the time, but I’m not sure if I could have kicked anyway. Every morning, I attempt a front kick while I brush my teeth, and every morning the result is sadly pathetic.
Yesterday’s commute was nightmarish due to – get this - rain. It was crazy. The C train was so sardine-packed to saturation that no one could get on. Ditto for the buses. Also no available cabs. Finally I gave up and hoofed it, limping in to work about 2 hours late, soaked and disheveled instead of just unkempt like I usually am.
Therefore I was unable to make it to TaeKwon-Do class and spent the night icing my knee and eating fattening food. I do love Indian food. Well, I love curry. I have leftovers from yesterday for lunch. Yummy.
Anyway, I was finally able to get another PCP chosen (the other two either moved or dropped out of my insurance network) and will see her tomorrow. Please, please fix me.
Oh, wait. They just called to say my insurance company doesn’t recognize me now. This, after they have covered me for 3+ years. Sigh. I’m hurt. Does everything we’ve been through mean nothing to them? The dizzying highs, the shattering lows…
Tuesday, September 07, 2004
Angst, ennui
I am sad that Jeanette Winterson killed herself. I mean, the loss of human life, the loss of a literary luminary… I keep looking for new novels in her section at the bookstore, then remembering she’s dead and feeling sad.
Margaret Atwood’s Oryx and Crake picked up some speed by the middle, but I can’t help but feel that at least two of the three main characters were never fully fleshed out. Also, the sci-fi elements of the book were resonating strongly with some of Cory Doctorow’s short stories, and I think Doctorow is, in the case of sci-fi, more inventive and inspired, if Atwood is a better wordsmith and writer overall.
I still have to read Luis’s "Hellboy" graphic novels, dammit. I don’t know if I’m up to it. I keep pulling them out of their shopping bag and then stuffing them back in. Funny how the guys at the comic shop just know I’m not a regular.
Food, but not much thought
Kam’s barbecue on Sunday was fun. Lots of grilled meat and beer was had by all! Also, the homemade ice cream was awesome. Mmmm. In retrospect, perhaps I shouldn’t have eaten quite so many pancakes beforehand.
Steve and Taylor had a ridiculous low-ground small basketball dunking contest. Smita somersaulted, and Taylor did some kind of Russian dance number while dunking the ball in a basket made from a 3-foot tall cylinder of chicken wire. However, the highlight of the performance was Smita’s "The Shitter."
Also of note: None of us is very good at the 3D puzzles, except for Smita, who is apparently some kind of genius.
Labor Day…Too exhausted to do anything by drape myself over the couch and watch the Food Network. No joke! I watched about 4 hours of "The Secret Life of…" (sandwiches, hamburgers, ice cream, cola, chocolate…). I just didn’t have the strength to change the channel. How pathetic is that? Then around 10pm, I finally managed to rouse myself enough to do laundry and finish reading Oryx and Crake. Also finished reading The Making of a Chef. Hmm. I realize now that I shall never learn how to cook. But at least I know what a blond roux is.
I do love the dark, but I hate nature...
So on Saturday, I went hiking on Bear mountain with Li, Paul, Mike C., and Mike C.’s friend John. This even though I am a city girl and therefore not so much scared of the Blair Witch as just unthrilled by nature in general.
Actually, I did try to get out of this trip, but my method of communication tends to be subtle hinting ("I don’t want to slow you guys down, what with my injured knee and all…"), and Li’s method of getting what she wants is to ignore anything I vaguely imply until she’s given me my marching orders ("We’re leaving between 12:30 and 1"). As her will is unquestionably stronger than mine, off we went.
Since most of us TKDers judged ourselves to be at least somewhat injured and/or out of shape, Li told Mike to keep things relatively easy. He claimed that the trail he had chosen was "moderate." At that, a little warning chime went off in my head, but the first 15 minutes were fine. Then things went, well, not horribly wrong, but you know what they say about the best laid plans.
Lesson learned:
Don’t trust the person in the lead to follow the trail, unless that person is Paul or possibly me. Note that Li will never be in front, simply because she doesn’t feel like walking that fast. Mike will never be in front, despite being the keeper of the maddeningly vague (can you describe the landmark?) and inaccurate map, because he will never in a million years keep up with the rest of us (partly a conscious decision, even though I’m convinced he couldn’t do it if he tried). I will occasionally be in front, as pure blind unwillingness to be lost in the forest after dark without any flashlights or drinking water will drive me there. Basically, just don’t follow John, who, in a happy-go-lucky spurt of joy to be on a field trip, will run ahead and completelyleave the trail behind. Eventually , we found ourselves hopelessly lost in the wilderness, climbing higher and higher up the mountain and unable to find our way out for 6 straight hours.
Li, Paul, and I were adamant about not being stuck in the forest after dark, since once it’s dark, you can’t see the trail markers or dangerous cliffs. Mike and John insisted that night would fall no matter what we did, so it would be useless to walk so fast and wear ourselves out. I think they have a different idea of what "fast" means, because they were hundreds of feet behind us, and I could have hiked for hours more, if I had been able to see where I was going. I guess I walk like a New Yorker even when there are rocks and fallen trees and deer in my way, and I have an injured leg. Huh. Maybe the martial arts training makes a difference after all.
Questions raised: Why do they make trail markers green? Are they supposed to be charmingly camouflaged? Were we traveling in circles? Why did the paths keep leading upward?
Yes, I really thought we would be killed by the Blair Witch and devoured by bears.
Paul led us out of the woods about 5 minutes after the sun set. Civilization! I have never been more happy to find a vegan-friendly take out menu in my life. And I am never leaving the city again*.
*Unless it’s for a really good barbecue, or something.
Friday, September 03, 2004
Not dead yet!
Oh, are the Republicans gone? *pokes head out of sand* We didn't blow up? I can get on with my life?
Yay! I'm glad we're not dead!
Thursday, September 02, 2004
Too close for comfort!
A weird moment when watching Tuesday’s Queer Eye… The guy was definitely a freak, as evidenced by his collection of anime figurines and habit of spending 17 hours in front of a computer. Sadly, aren’t his habits almost exactly like mine, down to the martial arts, cartoons, and chronic web-surfing? OK, I’ve never dated anyone I met on the internet, and I don’t own any dolls. But still.
Getting back on the horse...
Went to the gym and jogged for half an hour on the treadmill. I won’t say it didn’t hurt, but I don’t think I’m any more injured today than I was yesterday. I feel like I’ve trained through worse and been all right. On the other hand, I’m eating ibuprofen like it was candy and downing the pills with alcohol for bonus liver-destroying points. Australian Merlot is very tasty, by the way.
That go bump in the night
My cube-mate Kam related a scary tale about how his girlfriend once almost choked him in her sleep. When he removed her hands from his throat and woke her up, she had no recollection of her nigh-homicidal deed.
Taylor and I were suitably spooked.
Wednesday, September 01, 2004
Listen
It’s hard to be blasé; the sirens do bother me. Part of me, yes, will always be listening for them. And yet I can’t bring myself to do something as simple as wake up 15 minutes early to take the bus instead of the subway. I haven’t picked up the AA batteries for my Walkman radio. I had a flashlight, but I lost it. I have no contingency plans. I am not fighting. No doubt I'm hoping to brazen it out like I usually do.
And in imagination, a million refugees sneer at me in unison:
How fucking spoiled can you be?
