**When I was younger, I stole
t-shirts and other various garments from the boys I had been with. I don't do that anymore. Now, it would be too much like
asking the firing squad if I could keep the blindfold.**
100 Things ~ cause I'm so avant garde like that. Right...
Check out some of the delicious reads I found for you. They are down below...
I'll admit it, this gal can't always be scintillating and titillating. It's true! So, for the rare mindblowing
occasion where you find that I am *gasp* not enough for you, I have done this; I searched far and wide for other ways
to whet your appetite. Until you return to me, that is. *Kisses*.
Sunday, November 09, 2008
~ Swallowing Bitter Pills:
I've haven't been blogging; true. As a result you've missed fascinating updates in my life; false.
Last night I did something I haven't done in ages. I smoked enough to shut my brain up for the night. It was rambling on like a 14 year old girl that just discovered cell phones, IM and the Jonas brothers all in one day. For the past few nights I've been having my monthly financial freakout. Instead of falling asleep to sheep it's more like trying to fall asleep while angry, bill collecting sheep yell at me. You owe the cable company $250!!, You need to give your new cable company $200 upon installation next week!!, You owe your former dentist $1000!!, These pillows suck and you need new ones!! $50!!, Your winter boots have holes in them, you sadsack!! $200!! - yes, I love my job, but the salary cut that I self-inflicted is killing me. And also, why is $200 the magic number for so many things? I can usually keep the freakouts at bay because honestly, when you have very little money there's nothing you can do about trying to spend less of it or trying to budget it better. The fact of the matter is I need to augment my salary.
In far more fun news, I got to meet one of my favorite actors one night after work last week. Added bonus? I was asked out by a cute guy on the Law & Order crew. This is why, despite the fact that my bag already weighs 350lbs, I still take my little camera everywhere I go. Look! (here's the picture with me mostly cropped out because I look like ass - though those are part of my glasses and my fingers on his shoulder and if you're my friend on Facebook then you can see the actual picture)
He was definitely on my short list of NYC based celebrities I want to see in person (as I've already had my Derek Jeter and Robert DeNiro moments I think A-Rod might be alone on that list now). He was obscenely hot (as expected) and gracious, that might just be the best combination of male attributes (smart wouldn't hurt but I'm not going to get greedy). Incidentally we (a co-worker and I) saw Mariska Hargitay there too, she's drop dead gorgeous - as pretty as she is on tv it still manages to do her no justice, she's just stunning.
As for an update on the ex that I've been sweating over; I think I need to move on. He expresses tons of interest but no follow up and if there's one thing (just one??) that I've really tried to learn it's that actions speak louder than words. I'm still open to it I suppose but it seems clear that I need to accept that honesty and contriteness, while valued, don't always get you what you want.
I have started typing no less than 15 posts since August 26th. And you probably thought I died. Or lost a hand. Nope. But I will admit to you (you; singular reader who probably can't even read English and most likely are developmentally disabled and simply find shade #33333 exceptionally soothing), I'm totally two-armed and fine. Aside from being at some slightly confusing crossroad thing and having strange thoughts (that are actually good!) I've been trying to figure out what that hell is up with me.
Cases in points:
I am in a good mood more often than not. Especially at work. I'll give you a second if you want to go back and reread that. I am happy. Especially at work. Yes, it confounds me as well. I am busy all day long. I don't take forever in the bathroom hoping to waste 15 vs. 5 minutes. I don't read blogs anymore (aside from 3), I have no idea what Perez Hilton has to say or doodle about anything. I'm almost never on IM. I'm painfully out of the gossipy loop and I don't care.
I do not wake up weekday mornings and immediately try and figure out a way to delay/avoid going to work. I like my job and more importantly I like the people I work with. They are the tiniest bit vanilla (aside from a small little group of about 4) but they are beyond nice and considerate - my company has a staff of 30-35. We always have a stocked kitchen, free snacks flying around and freshly brewed coffee. My boss is the least bitchy 8.5 months pregnant woman in the history of pregnant women. The CEOs are constantly coming up with ways to show the staff that they appreciate us. We sit on yoga balls, go out drinking on Tuesdays, eat lunch together and bring in homemade cookies and breads. Construction was just completed on my new office, there are floor to ceiling windows and it's sunny and gorgeous. It's almost a cult. I'd be a little bit freaked if it wasn't all so great. My only hitch is that the entire office/city/media is virulently prObama and they're really insane about it. Like "ohmygod did you hear?? Sarah Palin wrapped up her little Down's baby in the American flag and then set the whole bundle on fire! Then she fed it to a moose before shooting the moose! she's cccrrrraaaaazzyyy" Uhm, no, you are, but anyway - love the 9-5ing!!!
As I confessed to a friend the other night over unintentionally straight vodka, I'm a little bit pursuing an ex. Crazy right? I've never in my life. But he's turned into an itch I can't scratch. I keep thinking of him. Can't stop. Going nuts. So... I emailed him. And now we're talking again and I'm not sure what'll happen (obviously) but I need to give it another shot and I was willing to trade the awkwardness for that shot. Is it abject desperation or maturity? No, I'm asking you.
I've been a reading maniac and what that means I have book recommendations for you! Both of these books were terrifically well written and incredibly enjoyable. I'm about to embark on the new Curtis Sittenfeld and while I can't imagine what the fuck her parents were thinking when they named her Curtis. That just smacks of child abuse.
I would rather be without a friend then friends with an absolute lowlife who can't be trusted or believed. I would think I'd be in the majority. I'm often proven wrong. So what about you guys - how many of you hang on to 'friends' that you know are going to disappoint you/fuck you over/make you regret that you gave them a chance? And why - does anyone need companionship that badly?
Today was just the fucking weirdest. But I'm already getting ahead of myself.
Have you ever seen the infomercial for the Ped Egg? Well I did and I instantly knew we needed to be together. One afternoon I was in the Bethel, CT Target and we found each other. Bliss. I've been pedegging myself regularly and loving it. Last night I gave my heels a quick once over and while checking out my handiwork I noticed a small, hard, raised dark spot on the sole of my foot. I futzed with it for a second, thought I saw something sticking out and felt relief. A splinter! I can tweeze that sucker right out. Grabbed the tweezerman, dug around for a sec and got it. Oh. Not a splinter. The top of a tiny scab. Hmm. I soaked it in hot water. Tried to remember if anything had bothered me lately. Went back to the tweezerman. Came up empty. I remembered I'd once had a wart on my foot as a kid. A wart... ok... a little gross but manageable.
I get to work Friday morning and look up plantar warts online. Yep, that's what it is. No big deal. During lunch I go to the pharmacy, pick up a few wart cures and head over to the pharmacist to see what she recommends. He asks me a few questions.
"Is it white or flesh covered"? Shit. "No. It's kinda dark". "Oh? Dark"? Fuuuuck.
He asks me to show it to him. I do. He suggests I go to a doctor. Except he phrases it this way; if I were you, I wouldn't buy any of these. I'd leave here and immediately see your doctor. Whatthefuckinghell?!
"Why, what do you think it is"? "Well..." "Just tell me, my mind is going to go to the outer limits of crazy anyway, you're not going to say anything I won't come up with on my own. Believe me". "If you're sure..." "Go" "I had melanoma last year. That is precisely what it looked like, but that's just my experience. Go to a doctor".
What choice do I have now? I have melanoma. Or an African-American wart. If I'm lucky. Which I so often am. I thank him (for giving me foot melanoma) and leave the pharmacy (to die).
I happen to have spent my formative years dating a fellow who would grow up to be a podiatric specialist. We've always stayed on excellent terms (I was part of his wedding party and I dig his wife) so even though I haven't talked to him in at least a year, I don't even think of not calling him. I try his office and get the answering service. I try him at home and his wife answers.
"Amy? Hi! It's Ari." "Wow!" "I know! How are you?" She tells me she's good, the kids are good, the older son is practicing for his bar-mitzvah already. OhmygodhowoldamI?86?!?! We bullshit for a few minutes and then I tell her I was actually calling for Evan's doctorly advice.
"Is he around for a sec?" "No... he's been fucking a slut for the past year and I kicked him out. He hasn't talked to the kids in 6 months. Wanna know why?" Uhm... no. NO. I want to know no more of any of this. I almost want chemo right now because the poison might just burn that last minute or so out of my brain for all eternity and wouldn't that be nice? "Well, the kids don't want to meet his slut and he said if they can't be happy for him he doesn't need them. Can you believe that?! Like our 7 year old has those kinds of reasoning and logic skills?! I'm telling you Ari, you wouldn't recognize him anymore. He's an accomplished liar and a fucking cheat now." He'd have to be as nothing that she is saying jibes with my memories of the boyfriend that taught me how to drive. Caught foul balls for me at Shea. Laid on the lawn with me and didn't spend all our time together trying to slide his hands up or down any of my clothes but just scratched my back or stroked my hair. The boyfriend that bought me a talking Alf even though I was 17 because we thought Alf was funny. The boyfriend that took my brothers to Mets games. Helped me clean up after my first non-parent-sanctioned house party. Gave me my first shot of Absolute. Didn't pressure me to "lose it" to him. Helped me move into my freshman dorm even though we'd been long broken up by then. Yes, she was right, he'd be unrecognizable to me now in (apparently) any light.
I am speechless. I can't think of a single thing to say other than repeatedly telling her how sorry I am. I'm in Fairway (a supermarket) and I'm so blown out of my mind I can't even remember why I went in the market in the first place. She asks me if I'd call her again sometime, she's trying to reconnect with old friends and be social again. I'm about to yes, out of nothing other than horror and pity when she tells me the connection has gone bad.
"I can't hear you." She's trying to figure out if it's my crappy connection or hers. I'm so shell shocked I can't say anything because all I can say is "sorry" and that's just not at all the right response.
"Ari? I'm losing you." She cuts in and out.
And then, because I'm somewhat of a coward, she lost me.
Slowly morphing into the exact same guy. One more trim and Katie will finally look exactly like the type that Tom Cruise really goes for.
Hmm... see any similarities?
When will the uglifying of Ms. Holmes be done? Hair? Chopped. Outfits? Of a 40 year old dowager. Hands? Inexplicably purple. Dude! Listen Tom you midgetfreak; be glad you have her, treat her like gold and stop acting like a ego-crazed bully, I haven't seen this gorgeous girl smile since you married her. What the hell?
I'm on Facebook. No surprise there, the entire world is on Facebook. One of the (7 year old when I started) twins I used to babysit just announced her engagement on Facebook. I didn't want to track her down and her shoot poisonous darts into her eyes. Much. Good thing I adored her and her sister. Right? Yeah, probably.
Anyway, I keep getting friended (by "friends" that as a stoner I really had no hopes of remembering). Today a girl I was bestest friends with through high school friended me. We're about to start playing 20 years worth of catch-up and I want to ask after her family (her dad was the sweetest, imagine any father that Molly Ringwald had in a movie) but I'd hate to ask and have her tell me someone died.
I seem to run into deadness on Facebook, mainly parents of friends. I'm starting to think more people I used to know are dead vs. computer illiterate/incognito. It makes me wonder who I think of that just doesn't exist anymore. Sad thought, right?
I think I sort of need to decide what I’m doing here, right? I mean, it's blogshit or get off the pot, right?
So what do I do? I honestly can't blog about bullshit anymore. I really can't. I can't blog about celebrities I see (but in case that interests you, I ate lunch next to Ed of Ed today), movies I've watched (but in case that interests you, P2 - better than I anticipated, The Ruins - I'd read the book and I was really looking forward to the movie, I was again pleasantly surprised, Suburban Girl - another book that I'd read [A Girl's Guide to Hunting and Fishing] and was looking forward to the adaptation of, there's no nice way to say it, it was horrid, offensively bad, I have no idea how anyone convinced Sarah Michelle Gellar and Alec Baldwin to say any of those awful awful lines. And lastly, The Invasion - not too bad, decent even and Nicole Kidman's face moved - unless that was the cgi part) or how much I hate my new job (I don't [yet], not even one bit). So… where does that leave us?
I'm considering something crazy here (eh, not that crazy). I'm considering going back to what I was blogging about before. Me. Not my slambookish likes and dislikes, but genuine me-ness. The stuff I used to blog about before I started meeting, hanging out with, befriending and dating readers and got all weirded out thinking it was odd to share so much with people that could see my face. It isn't. Well, maybe it is for you and/or for me, but now we'll see because it's sort of a goal I've set for myself. To either really blog or just call it a day and give you your .18 seconds per day back.
I had an idea for what I'd come back with but I think that after asking you to bear with me for as long as I did, maybe I owe you something. That being said, I'd like to offer you the chance to ask me anything you like, as personal as you like, you pose the topic and I'll write about it as candidly as I can. And should it turn out, that you all are as lazy and disinterested in me as I am, I will go back to the idea that I had before and I'll just write that up instead.
And remember, the sooner you want to read, the sooner you ask your question.
*UPDATE* Senator Tinkerbell posed the first question: What percentage of your readers do you know in real life? Do you use this blog to practice writing skills? To meet people? Its your blog i think you should do what you want with it. I would submit the more personal it is the more interesting it is to the reader. I think what most readers like here is your honesty about your feelings. Whether it be excitement, disappointment or boredom. Everyone can identify with that. And one more question...whats your biggest turn on?
Answer: I'd say I know 40% of my readers. I do use this to practice my writing skills - esp. initially but the more I wrote the more I started to feel like I was using my blog as a barometer. If people identified with whatever I was feeling and writing about, the less insane I am. As for my biggest turn-on, it's not going to come out right but it's aggressiveness - it's a guy who knows what he wants (ideally me) and goes for it, he's not big on questions, not big on feedback, he trusts his well honed instinct and goes with it.
Thanks for participating Tinks!
*UPDATE Part II* Little Fish asks: I'm so glad to have you back, Ari! Have you ever regretted anything you've posted? If so, what is your biggest blogging regret? Have any of your pre-blog friends and family told you that they were uncomfortable or worried for you over how much you reveal?
Answer: Ironically, the biggest regrets I have in blogging are over things I didn't blog. How furious I was when a "friend" randomly and anonymously slammed me in my comment section. I should have addressed it and I should have defended myself. Not because I think a word that was typed had any truth to it, but because I should always be my biggest champion. And yes, there have been times where I've posted something and then gotten the "really?? You think that was a good idea?!" email from a friend (in my family only my brothers know about my site and no one i s less interested in this stuff less than my brothers) but they've never expressed outright concern for my safety.
Gypsy asks: My question, if you can call it that, is somewhat related to the question above. Does your family know about the blog? How long do you know someone before you tell them about it?Glad you're back! Oh, and one other thing: What was your worst JDate?
Answer: My parents do not (my father is way too serious to look around for stuff like this and my mother is blessedly computer illiterate). My brothers do, but no one interests them less than their (yawn) older sister. As far as how long I wait; well, you may (or may totally not) have deduced that I'm sort of a hard nut to crack. I'm not really forthcoming about myself much to begin with. So I don't think I've ever told a guy about this site before (some guys have known, but in those cases it was more of a pre-existing condition) but when and if I do - there'llprobably be a healthy amount of inner turmoil over it. And my worst JDate... god, they were all fairly grim but if I have to choose I'd say my worst was with a guy I adored because the date was fantastic, both the man and the night and that stupid date was just the absolute best because I could have sworn it was the start of something pretty interesting but instead (surprise!!) everything went bust and just like that the .000001% of optimism I work so hard to nurture was again; dead.
Not Carrie Bradshaw asks: Glad you're back! What's your craziest NYC experience? One that really reflects the epitome of the city for you?
Answer: Absolutely, no holds barred, hands down this night. If that isn't the epitome of only in New York then I don't know what is.
Howard asks: What do you look for in a guy besides aggressiveness?
Answer: Oh the usual I'd think; a man who is considerate, honest, level-headed, generous, kissable, smart and FUNNY. You can see why I have such a hard time.
My beautiful Lisa asks: Not including winning the lotto, If you had one wish...what would it be???(an oldie but a goodie)
Answer: To find someone who is as suited for me, and makes me as happy, as J makes you.
Ron asks: Since you like to read, what book moved you the most? And what book that you haven't read would you most like to read?
Answer: The Bible. Like I could ever convince you or anyone else of that... Ok then; To Kill A Mockingbird. It was one of the first school-related books I remember reading and just falling in love with. I'd like to have an interest in reading classic books (Anna Karenina, for example) but the closest I come to classic is Edgar Allen Poe - I just have a very base sensibility in what I read. It's the one area where I'm not at remotely refined, I like all kinds of music and movies, I'll try any kind of cuisine, I love museums but I read complete trash.
With great irony I share the next comment and it is from MeMe: Love your writing. Book suggestions would be great.
Answer: Well if you really want my opinion now, here you go; absolutely, positively anything Jen Lancaster puts on paper and sells. She is the the funniest, bitchiest girl ever and I fucking love her. I recently read this new book and liked it a lot. Scott Spencer is guaranteed goodness, as are; Lisa Jewell, Anna Maxted, Marian Keyes, Jodi Picoult, James Patterson, Harlen Coben, Toby Young and Lisa Unger - hope that's helpful.
Steph asks: Just curious, As a life long north-easterner would you ever consider living anywhere else?
Answer: OHMYGODYES. It's something I'd love to do. I'd love to pack up and move to somewhere totally random (just no Florida, the humidity would make me nuts). Last year I fell in love with the idea (Charleston, Louisville, anywhere, you name it though I think the South would prevail - but I wouldn't go to another big city, London being the one exception). See it turns out that there are massive amounts of the country where I can take the value of my 880 sq foot apt. and swap it for 3-4 bedrooms, 2-3 bathrooms, a garage, a backyard and a basement. That idea appeals to me every single day.
Keep 'em coming guys!!
*UPDATE Part III* Amy asks: On May 21 you stated what a difference a week can make and that you would have an update on the previous post. What was that update?
Answer: (it refered to the post just before it so;) mainly that I went on a thousand interviews and ended up with a job I felt fairly comfortable taking (if not morbidly depressed over due to the loss of my much adored slackery freedom). My friend also confirmed her elopement/marriage (on facebook even, very official) and I drank a ton of water right around then.
Robin asks: Hey Ari. So, if you would love to move somewhere other than NYC, what is stopping you? Job? Money? Fear of the unknown?Welcome back, btw
Answer: fear of the unknown is a huge component. My aforementioned slackerness is another, I'm sure you can imagine the sheer volume of work involved in uprooting an entire existence. And if I think finding a single guy in NYC is impossible, well let's be honest, what are the odds it would be any easier in Louisville, KY? And thanks, it's good to be back.
Hank... Hank had no question, but he did send me a beautiful welcome back gift which is lit, radiant and delicious smelling as I type. Thank you.
Anonymous asks: Hi! Glad you are back! I've been curious for a while- since you mention your jobs and job searches, what kind of field are you in?And I try to follow along with your NY life, and figure out what your favorite neighborhood bars, restaraunts are, etc- but you never mention them by name! Any favorites you can share?
Answer: thank you as well! My field is office management (accounting, human resources, database crap) and now I've gotten into the education realm. And I'm a total uptown girl. I love the upper east and west sides, I think below 14th Street is overrated and unappealing, but I like the Financial District and have a total soft spot for the South Street area. My favorite restaurants are the regular ones Peter Luger's(!), Atlantic Grill, BLT, Rain, East, any Drew Nieporent place. But I really love the ones that aren't all that well known but have explempary food; Hummus Place, Josie's and Saigon Grill on the UWS, Jubilee and Luca on the UES, Why Curry near St. Marks that a guy I used to date introduced me too.
Casca asks: Which date is the anal sex date?
Answer: the one after the engagement party.
Anonymous Coward, you're always a great cheerleader,thanks.
LS Fran asks: Here's my question, why do you always get jobs on the West Side? It would be much easier for me to meet you for lunch if you worked on the East Side.
Answer: because unless you want to hire me, I go where there are folks willing to pay me and that seems to routinely be westward. I used to work on the east side but of course, that was before I met you.
I know, I know, this isn't exactly content. I'm coming back. Slowly but surely. Just thought you might enjoy a brief video I took at the Yankee game I was at just a week ago. Check out the flag whipping around in the pre-storm wind and the ominous sky (yes, it eventually poured and I got wring-my-shirt-out-drenched). There's a loudass clap of thunder that somehow isn't audible but you can hear the crowd react. And most importantly; yes, my Yankees won.
I'm off Jdate in a week (turns out I've been contacted by my quota of slick, muscle t-shirted, Israeli guys, married Eastern Europeans, and humorless hipsters) and I'm sure I won't miss the carnival. But this morning I logged in/on and saw this email (from, of course, a cute guy all the way in New Orleans);
Date: 04/24/2008 01:41AM Subject: Just a compliment for you
Message: Sometimes when I can't sleep, I play "who's online on JDate," and while playing this silly game, I've sometimes run across/seen your profile. And given the fact that you're outta here, I just thought you'd like to know... I think your profile is awesome--like one of the best I've ever read. You're quite attractive (great smile) and you sound like a blast to be around, and I'm sure if you're anything like you so beautifully describe yourself to be (and I have no reason to doubt you, right?),whatever guy you end up with someday will be a very lucky man. That's all I wanted to say. Take care, Mark
It's at these moments where I feel like Jdate is rigged and not a guy, but an employee sends out these Hail Mary emails to try and keep you suckered in. I mean really, the spelling and grammar (thanks ron) are completely correct - not Jdate email staples by a long shot. As a matter of empirical fact, the spelling and grammar used on Jdate often make me feel that the site is some sort of ESL precursor. Well, this sucker isn't falling for it. Until the next time I fall for it.
I was just flipping through the Sunday Post and I've learned something really and truly interesting. The Pope is going to fuck my shit up.
It seems that on Friday the Pope will be visiting a NYC church. I understand this is a Very Big Deal. I know it's massive that a local church is being honored with a papal visit. Yay local church, awesome for you, bestest news ever. Now, it would be really inconvenient if say; the church was in my neighborhood, or on my block. However (so only in New York City)... this church is located about 9 feet away from my bedroom! Literally. Look! This is the view from my bedroom window:
Just a little close, right? I'm not quite sure how his arrival isn't going to coincide with a bevy of law-enforcement personnel (sheesh, just think of it, nypd, secret service, Pope patrol) visiting my apartment. I'm guessing all the apartments that face the church will be visited by cops. I'm also going to guess that at least one cop will be stationed right near my window for most of the visit - just what a stay-at-home pot smoker likes.
I am now fielding offers that will render me out of my apartment for the majority of Friday (I'm even considering heading to CT).
Oh, and in other totally random, unrelated news, Dawn asked (in my comments) if I was dead (she must think so and that would explain why she soundly dissed me for my birthday, not even replying to my emails, ahem) but I'm not, I'm just busy. Dating young men, meeting very attractive age appropriate men, babysitting a very cute tiny man, babysitting an adorable little girl, fishing a secret goodwill $20 out of my purse (thanks Fran, how freaking cute are you??), replacing my recently destroyed cell phone, watching a weekend of baseball, reading and being domestic. Incidentally; They Did it with Love (Kate Morgenroth) and Seeing Me Naked (Liza Palmer) are the last two books I read and I loved them, I highly recommend you check them out.
As I may have mentioned before; I have two brothers. Both of them are younger and big time sports fans. They like to watch the fights, basketball, baseball, football, college hoops, tennis - you name it. They were avid WWF followers when we were all little. But not golf. In regards to golf we three are in agreement; golf is not a sport. It is an activity. I however spent my youth as a girl. Ensconced in the world of Barbie, drawing, my dollhouse, slambooks and lightly stalking the cute boys in my class (Kevin Kotler, I wholeheartedly apologize for all the falsehoods that were employed to drag you off your bike and into your house to answer stupid prank phone calls, in my defense, at least I'll never be 14 again).
Over the years my brothers tried everything to get me into sports, mainly so I'd stop trying to change the channel from Yankees/Mets/Giants/Jets/Knicks/Nets to General Hospital/21 Jump Street/90210. It never really took. Though I remember watching the '86 World Series. Then I went to college and roomed with a ferocious Knicks fan (seemed that her brother's effort paid off). Before I knew it I was a Knicks fan. My dog is named after a former Knick coach.
To the credit of both my brothers, they tried, hard over the years to get me into baseball. I never felt too badly though, they have my mom and she's a huge sports fan. I'd been to Fenway (10 times easily) because my childhood sleepaway camp was in West Stockbridge, Mass. - boring. Through high school I dated a Mets fan who took me to Shea every weekend - eh. The town I lived in during high school was full of Yankees. Everyone had a Mattingly or Tino story. My sophomore year of high school, all I knew about baseball was that Ron Darling was the cutest. So imagine my surprise when one afternoon, while I was working at my part time job at the local dry cleaner, some ridiculously cocky guy strolls in, smiles and just asks for his clothes. Most people offered either a ticket or a last name, very few went the smile route, mainly just the owners or my parents. I asked for his last name, and I kid you not, he smiled broader and asked me if I knew who he was. Ugh. From that day on I knew who he was and I thought; man, Don Mattingly and his mustache are stupid jerks. Years later, when I thought back on that, I decided he must've been fucking with me. Could a major league baseball player really expect a 16 year old girl to know who he was? Doubtful.
But then Thursday, November 1, 2001 rolled up.
I was at work and my brother called. He asked if I had any interest in going to a Yankee game that night.
"Hi." I answered, "have we ever met? Of course I don't, why would you ask me that?"
"You're the only person I know that can afford the ticket this last minute." Good answer.
"Why, how much can it be?"
"You have no idea what tonight is, do you?"
"Other than a night where I plan to go home, order in and watch ER? No."
"Oh god. Nothing I tell you sinks in, huh? World series? Game 5?"
Hmm... that actually sounded like it could be fun. Fun hadn't been had in awhile, keep in mind, it was mere weeks after 9/11, the city was still scared and scary.
It turned out that a friend of my brother's needed emergency dental surgery, he was selling the tickets so that he could get his wisdom teeth taken out. The tickets would be $350 altogether. I thought about it for about an hour. Baseball games, the few that I'd seen, seemed long and boring. But a world series game, that struck me as a once in a lifetime experience. I called my brother back and told him I was in.
I live on the 4/5 line of the subway so before the game my brother met me here and filled up my pocketbook with diet cokes, pretzles and sandwiches. I asked him if we were going to be gone all weekend. Then I ignorantly uttered the complaint that still haunts me 6 years later:
"I need room for my book, you aren't leaving me any room for my book!"
You would have thought I'd asked about getting a pedicure at my seat in the stadium.
I shrugged. On tv it looks boring. Apparently, the world series is never boring and the entire world knows this. But me. I grudgingly left my book behind and glared at my still laughing idiot brother as I followed him to the subway. The train ride there was nuts. Everyone was smushed together, decked out in Yankee clothes, cheering and chanting, I'd never been on such a happy train ride. It was about 15 minutes and we were at Yankee Stadium - you can see in the stadium from the subway! How cool is that? We followed everyone else down the steps, and I was a little excited before I even touched Yankee property. My brother was dragging me all through the stadium and when we finally got to our seats we noticed we were sitting no more than 5 feet away from the WTC-9/11 flag - yes, the one that was damaged and in all the pictures. It fluttered around eerily in the breeze.
I have to say, I was more than a little bit amused when Don Mattingly threw out the opening pitch. But that was just the beginning. The game stayed close the entire time and then went into extra innings (12 total). The Yankees beat the Diamondbacks that night 3-2. When my brother and I finally got out of the stadium and onto River Avenue it was a mob scene. People were chanting USA, singing New York, New York, it was very fucking cool. We knew there was no way we were getting on a subway for at least half an hour so we walked over to a diner on 161st and got hot chocolate. When I tried to pay, it was on the house. We loitered a little bit longer and then decided to play our odds at getting on the subway to come home. Just as we got up the stairs an empty 4 pulled in. Me, my brother and another guy who'd been standing on the platform got on the subway, the guy sat across from us.
"Hey, you're Rich Eisen." And for the rest of the ride home my brother and new best friend Rich Eisen compared notes on the awesomeness we'd all just seen. My brother and I disembarked before Rich Eisen (of ESPN fame) and started to head back to my apartment. As we're walking down the block I point out a building to my brother.
"Supposedly that's where Derek Jeter lives. But I've never seen him." At this point we're a mere block and a half from my apartment. I walk a dog 3x a day, everyday. If Derek Jeter lived across the street, the odds are I'd have seen him. At least once.
"Huh?" My brother confesses he was busy thinking about how great the win was and he missed what I'd said.
"I was showing you that building."
"I was telling you that I heard Jeter lives there." Now he watches as I point out a shiny, high rise across from where we are standing. While we're looking at the building three men walk out and start to head towards us. "Where those guys just came out from - that's where -hey..."
"Now what? Come on, it's late, walk."
"Ok Ok, but look across the street!" I don't know how it was possible, but I was looking across the street and seeing Derek Jeter and my brother was looking the street and not seeing Derek Jeter. "Derek Jeter! Look!!"
Idiotically reserved my brother glanced across the street and then back at me. He told me he could see why I might think that was Derek Jeter.
"Because it is. Idiot. You have about five seconds to decide what you're going to say. Don't be a dork."
And as I looked to my brother to see what he was going to do, I realized my brother had turned into a pillar of salt. He was just standing there, mouth hanging open, looking like the offspring of twins. We had about 12 seconds before Jeter passed us and my brother was useless.
"Hi! That was a great game, my first ever, we're just getting home, that was the best!!" Although, when I shouted it I'm sure it sounded more like "Hiderekjeteriamatotallycrazypersonarentyougladidonthaveagunpermit!!".
Derek Jeter turned around and walked over to us.
"Hey," he smiled and shook our hands. I was shocked by how cute and tall he was in person. Very very tall. "I'm Derek, Derek Jeter. This is my friend Jorge Posada. We're glad you guys had fun, sorry we kept you out so late." I think I went deaf about then. "This is my brother." I shoved my brother at them and took a step back. They talked for a few minutes then Jeter and Posada said goodnight and walked up to Elaine's (From Annie Hall) to celebrate their win. I went home to sleep off my induction into the New York Yankees (who would go on to lose that series, but win a place in my heart, for giving me one of the most fantastically, quintessential NYC experiences ever).
And that, dear readers, is how a Yankees fan is born.
I eagerly await Opening day in a few hours and I wish Jeter, Posada and the rest of the 2008 Yankees their best season ever.
Part of being unemployed (again) is having to come up with ways to amuse myself. Daytime is harder, nighttime, for whatever reason, is way simpler. I get into bed and read for hours, or watch Sex and the City repeats or toss in a dvd. It’s easier having nothing to do when the rest of the world is asleep.
I’ve been reading like someone whose sight was just restored, it’s ridiculous. I’m flipping through a hundred pages a day easily. It started with a quest to entertain myself and enjoy a decent afternoon about a month ago. My old pattern of visiting the library was to dart in after work and about 15 minutes before they closed, grab the books I’d reserved online and go. I rarely had browsing time. I’d walked over to the library and found the new James Patterson book sitting on the one week only shelf.
A one week book, now that’s a luxury I could never indulge when I was working – I never even looked at the one week shelf. But now? Well, my life is a one week shelf. I checked it out and read it in about two days (the font is huge and the chapters are about a page and a half apiece. It’s easier to keep reading than it is to stop). After that the one week shelf and I were pretty hot and heavy. It used to be that I’d read an article or a blog post about a book, or be wandering through Border’s and a book would catch my eye. I’d go online and reserve it. But with my new found time, I can browse! I’ve found books by authors I’ve never heard of and been reminded of writers I like that I’d totally forgotten about.
If you want recommendations, I’m happy to present you with a few of my recent finds. (But remember, I read nothing of great literary merit (unless accidental), no classics, no philosophers, nothing that’s been translated from an original language… I’m the girl that reads the books with legs and high heels on the cover – I’m not especially proud, but I’m honest).
Slacker Girl, which had an improbably cute storyline that didn’t seem saccharine-y in the least. As the world’s laziest girl I truly appreciated the heroine’s unapologetic slacker lifestyle, hell, I had a crush on her.
A slightly strange little book that I found randomly; The Return of Jonah Gray. The cover intrigued me and the story was unexpected and pretty fantastic. The character is an auditor for the IRS, she has an abacus for a mind and is beyond practical. Until she isn’t. I loved reading about someone so antithetical to myself.
I read Cecelia Ahern’s (of PS I Love You fame) latest (There's No Place Like Here). Very cute, it was like a Disney story. I still like her first book best (the recent two have gone a bit fairytale) but she also writes the Christina Applegate show Samantha Who? and I’d really been enjoying that before the stupid strike made it go away.
I love Tom Perrotta’s other books (Election and Little Children) but his most recent; The Abstinence Teacher was something of a disappointment. The conclusion felt completely rushed and as the reader I felt shortchanged. I kept waiting for the big finale and the book just ended… if he’s not writing a follow up, I’m really curious as to what the thinking there was. Let me know if you read it and what you thought.
Eileen Cook sent me her debut novel Unpredictable and I couldn’t have liked it more. She wrote her heroine as desperate but completely understandably so, and remarkably non-ditzy. Sure, she does some ridiculous things in the name of getting her guy back but she adores him and really, who hasn’t been a little silly? It was a great read and I look forward to more from her. If you like Marian Keyes (and I love Marian Keyes) you’ll like Eileen Cook.
Now, I’m almost finished reading The Opposite of Love. I’m digging this book massively. I love the confused and apathetic Emily, I can relate to her. I don’t know how I’ll feel about the ending when I get to it, but I find it hard to believe that I’ll be let down.
There are also a handful of books coming out that I’m really looking forward to reading:
(I started to leave the following as a comment on Karol's most recent post but it got a little unwieldy as you may notice)
I really enjoy that Barack called me a racist in his version of explaining his despicable pastor. Last I checked, you're born into your family (grandmother included, and she should be utterly disgusted by her grandson's public slimming of her), not your pastoral relationship. His granny is scared of black men he says. "I can no more disown him than I can my white grandmother," he said, though if she's smart I bet she's looking into it. He then added that White Granny "once confessed her fear of black men who passed by her on the street, and who on more than one occasion has uttered racial or ethnic stereotypes that made me cringe." (Yet when his pastor called this country the U.S.K.K.K.A. he didn't cringe?!) Will he and his esteemed wife swear to never having crossed the street when a tough looking black guy and his friends were walking their way? Is there anyone who can honestly say they've never done that? Is that now the barometer of racism?
Barack's wife is embarrassed by this country and has been her entire life (for the record, I too am mortified by the racial divides we as a country have conquered, the post Oklahoma bombing, 9/11 and Katrina unity and compassion, the falling of the Berlin Wall, all quite shameful moments in our history) . His pastor flat out hates it. If they are who Barack surrounds himself with under normal circumstances, what the hell would his cabinet look like?! And if our country is so awful, aren't we past the hope he keeps preaching?
Barack disgusts me. And his speech, worse than boring and pointless, was incredibly offensive.
*Update* Karol sent me the link to this must read article (written by Mark Steyn, one of my fellow typical white people - and as an aside, how is typical white person different from the oh so offensive you people? Is there any fucking way in hell that isn't the same bullshit!?). If after reading this, you still think Obama's your guy... well ... I hope you at least have someone around who helps you spell your name and identify your shapes.
This past Friday I was hanging out with Joe. Joe, was quite disturbed to discover that a mere 6 days before my birthday I'd planned; nothing. That's right. None plans. Now, as Joe knows me and has known me for years this should be no surprise. I'm very blah when it comes to birthdaying. Joe... well to him birthdays are Christmas. To Christ. Big doings indeed.
I'm far less sentimental, I feel awkward being the center of attention. A birthday thing is just a little too much me for my usual taste. Does that even make sense? If had a twin this would be perfect. She could plan it all and I could just ride her birthday coattails. God... I'm lethargic about my own birthday - this is totally shameful, I realize. At first I thought I'd do an out to dinner with a small group of friends this coming Friday. But there's a poker game that night (which would certainly lay claim to Karol and Evil Dawn, not to mention I want to play too, given that I won it last time - not that a repeat is at all likely). Then I thought of Saturday, I have a bridal brunch earlier that day but the flipside is I know my friends are around that day/night.