photo published on why go

A photo of mine of a grass-covered roof in Norway was published on Why Go and I'm totally psyched. To see it, click here.

Two of my other photos will also be published on there over the next few weeks. Keep on checking it.

Greenpoint: Just on a Run

While I was on my five-mile run this morning, I saw way more than a normal person might see in an entire day in their neighborhood. In the first mile, I saw two similiar sights, yet one was laughable, and the other disturbing.
First I saw an older mother/grandmother/maternal figure dragging along a screaming and shrieking child having a tantrum who obviously didn't want to go to school. The woman was talking in Polish to the child who was clutching onto anything that passed, including a chain link fence and a brick wall, and had to be pried from these to be moved on. "Just wait," I wanted to say, "Until you have to work and pay your rent. Then you'll really be crying." Instead I ran on.
On the next block, another woman was also walking her small child to school. This one was clearly an American hipster, with a black bob and the standard thick black ugly glasses. She was telling her child that all of the cars were mean and that is why they were not stopping to let them cross.
This disturbed me because the changes to Greenpoint have been quite strong already. After Williamsburg became the new East Village but with way suckier people and uglier apartments and more pollution (although Jenny once claimed she wanted to move to Williamsburg, Brooklyn, to get away from the pollution of Manhattan!), the rents started climbing and the hipsters who sat around making "art" (there's a reason I put art in quotes) and letting their parents pay their rent (a former coworker at D. told me he's the only person in his building who works) started realizing even that barista job at the local cafe wouldn't pay their bills, they came over to Greenpoint. Thus, our rents rose, and sucky people moved in.
But what if we became another Park Slope? That thought is scary. I like Park Slope, and it used to be a lot cooler. However, it appears an alien species of moms have moved in with their designer strollers and sixty dollar haircuts for one-year-olds and letting their child have tantrums in libraries ("Oh, he needs to cry it out!" or "I am not giving him any more attention! Tough love! Too bad if people want quiet in a library!") and passing up smaller coffeeshops for the ubiquitous Starbucks ("That independent cafe once asked me to take my child outside for his cry after I had ignored his shrieking for twenty minutes! The nerve!"). The hipsters are bad enough but if Greenpoint becomes Park Slope, well, I'll just have to find a way to afford moving back to the East Village.

searching, search, searching

i've spent the night listening to cafe del mar and ani difranco, sending out resumes and wishing i were curled up in bed with luna and a book, and oh yeah, t would be nice too--but he's never one to hang out in bed--more like sleep in bed, but he doesn't chill like i do. i found this really rad job--and it would be superrad if i got it, and rachelle got the position there she's applying for, and we could go to work together--or just work together, that would rock--and i spent an hour working on my cover letter and i totally lost it. i was so pissed and tried to recreate it but was so spent i only worked on it for 15 minutes and i think it's okay. i hope they hire me.
i like my job, but it's not perfect, and more importantly, it is not paying my bills. i'm doing odd jobs this coming weekend, and am checking craigslist for more random jobs but it's mostly escort jobs and be a jewish egg donor and haul concrete sort of jobs. i wish there was something easier. i think i'm going to propose writing an article on ultra music festival for bna and see if they like it and if they do, use it as an excuse to take time off for wherever i'm working then. but now, now i need to focus on finding something to pay my bills because my time is running out.

ani difranco FUEL lyrics

Sometimes a song just hits you and you can't stop listening to it and it seems to make so much sense...well ani has been haunting me a bit lately and here are two songs that i adore.

"Fuel"

They were digging a new foudation in Manhattan
And they discovered a slave cemetary there
May their souls rest easy
Now that lynching is frowned upon
And we've moved on to the electric chair
And I wonder who's gonna be president, tweedle dum or tweedle dummer?
And who's gonna have the big blockbuster box office this summer?
How about we put up a wall between houses and the highway
And you can go your way, and I can go my may

Except all the radios agree with all the tvs
And all the magazines agree with all the radios
And I keep hearing that same damn song everywhere I go
Maybe I should put a bucket over my head
And a marshmallow in each ear
And stumble around for
Another dumb-numb waiting for another hit song to appear

People used to make records
As in a record of an event
The event of people playing music in a room
Now everything is cross-marketing
Its about sunglasses and shoes
Or guns and drugs
You choose
We got it rehashed
We got it half-assed
We're digging up all the graves
And we're spitting on the past
And you can choose between the colors
Of the lipstick on the whores
Cause we know the difference between
The font of 20% more
And the font of teriakiyi
You tell me
How does it... make you feel?

You tell me
What's ... real?
And they say that alcoholics are always alcoholics
Even when they're as dry as my lips for years
Even when they're stranded on a small desert island
With no place within 2,000 miles to buy beer
And I wonder
Is he different?
Is he different?
Has he changed? what's he about?..
Or is he just a liar with nothing to lie about?

Am I headed for the same brick wall
Is there anything I can do about
Anything at all?
Except go back to that corner in Manhattan
And dig deeper, dig deeper this time
Down beneath the impossible pain of our history
Beneath unknown bones
Beneath the bedrock of the mystery
Beneath the sewage systems and the PATH train
Beneath the cobblestones and the water mains
Beneath the traffic of friendships and street deals
Beneath the screeching of kamikaze cab wheels
Beneath everything I can think of to think about
Beneath it all, beneath all get out
Beneath the good and the kind and the stupid and the cruel
There's a fire just waiting for fuel

There's a fire just waiting for fuel
There's a fire just waiting for fuel
There's a fire just waiting for fuel
There's a fire just waiting for fuel
There's a fire just waiting for fuel
There's a fire just waiting for fuel
There's a fire just waiting for fuel
There's a fire just waiting for fuel
There's a fire just waiting for fuel
There's a fire just waiting for fuel
There's a fire just waiting for fuel
There's a fire just waiting for fuel
There's a fire just waiting for fuel
"Both Hands"

I am walking
out in the rain
and I am listening to the low moan
of the dial tone again
and I am getting
nowhere with you
and I can't let it go
and I can't get through...
the old woman behind the pink curtains
and the closed door
on the first floor
she's listening through the air shaft
to see how long our swan song can last
and both hands
now use both hands
oh, no don't close your eyes
I am writing
graffitti on your body
I am drawing the story of
how hard we tried
I am watching your chest rise and fall
like the tides of my life,
and the rest of it all
and your bones have been my bedframe
and your flesh has been my pillow
I am waiting for sleep
to offer up the deep
with both hands
in eachother's shadows we grew less and less tall
and eventually our theories couldn't explain it all
and I'm recording our history now on the bedroom wall
and eventually the landlord will come
and paint over it all
and I am walking
out in the rain
and I am listening to the low moan of the dial tone again
and I am getting nowhere with you
and I can't let it go
and I can't get though
So now use both hands
please use both hands
oh, no don't close your eyes
I am writing graffitti on your body
I am drawing the story of how hard we tried
hard we tried
how hard we tried

what's happening...

i think i'm going to start subscribing to the nytimes weekend papers. i
usually get up early enough to snag it before whoever steals it. my
dad's friend said there are parts of the classifieds (section 4a or
something like that) that aren't online, so i suppose that should be a
reason. i also like reading the international news, and it's easier to scan
headlines and read the lead in the paper as opposed to the internet.
right now, on the nytimes website, i'm reading an article about religious
missionaries in africa
(http://www.nytimes.com/2006/01/29/magazine/29missionaries.html?emc=eta1)
and am also in the midst of bret easton elli's new book LUNAR
PARK--being in europe i missed the hype of its release--and it's very bizarre.

t left nyc today and i feel lonely already. i know when i get home and
it's just luna to greet me, that hole in my heart will ache again, and
i will look around the space of my 1br apt and think, "it's so empty."
love makes it impossible to think outside of cliches. i've included a photo of him with a stray cat in greece. isn't he sweet? both the cat and t.

i mentioned wanting to do the peace corps to my mom, more of, "when i
do the peace corps..." and she was like, "wha?" it's something i've
wanted to do since i first learned about it in high school social studies.

i finally finished cataloging that big pile of books and it's nice to
chill out with a book at work for a bit. one of the perks of being a
librarian, except when people interrupt me.

the workstudies ignoring patrons to work on their schoolwork is really
pissing me off. oh well, some things never change.

Library Land!

At the small college library I work in, we require students to sign in
as they enter so we can keep track of patron statistics. The more
people in the library, the more it looks like we are useful, the more money
we get. People seem to have such hostility towards signing in.

"I signed in this morning when I got here!" Yes, but it's now seven
thirty pm.

Another problem we seem to have is people don't understand where they
should sign. It is basically a grid of boxes, with the times at the top,
so you sign your initials (some people like to sign their entire name,
which takes up several boxes across various times, or the best, is to
sign the time: 6:35) in the column that corresponds with the hour of the
time that it is. Nearly everyone requires the assistance of the
librarian or a workstudy with how to sign in. And when we don't pay attention,
they sign in at whatever box they want. Then, when people who think
they understand how to sign in come in, they get confused at what to do
and how to do it. It drives me nuts: sign your initials in the box under
the proper time column. Apparently, it's a lot harder than it looks.

That Time of The Month

First off, I am not apologizing. This is a little rant on men's reactions to the natural monthly menses of women. "Gross!" "Ew!" "I am not reading anymore of this blog right now!" Fine. But I just wanted to say I am pissed at how men act revolted at a perfectly natural and painful and inconvenient process when they should be:

1. Happy they don't have to deal with it each month
2. Supportive of us
3. Take care of us

I'm not asking all men to drop everything they have, but if I'm complaining, "I have cramps," making me feel like I'm disgusting is not the thing to do. Cramps are when my uterine walls are trying to rid itself of the layer. It's incredibly painful--I have called in sick because of it--and debilitating to many at times. And PMS--don't blame my bitchy mood on PMS. I can be a real bitch at times and I can get in a shitty mood--like when I don't have enough to pay my rent and I get three bills in the mail the same day, or if some asshole sexually harasses me--that doesn't necessarily mean I have PMS. But if I do get PMS (which I usually don't) leave me alone so I can chill out and relax. Don't make fun of me, of all things. Why do certain men think it is hilarious to tease us and blame all of our negative comments on PMS?

what i want to do

i like my job; i really do. i just want something that pays a bit more and is full-time with all the lovely bennies that typically surround a full-time job, like sick and holiday and vacation pay--wouldn't that be nice? but today i was working on a fantastic black history month display and really loving what i do--which is to reach out to people and provide them with information.

along the windowsill, i created a display of books relating to black history, and i created a bulletin board for black history month. the workstudies helped me with this part; e is making a photo collage of photos i picked out and c made the banner. i found all these rad quotes and wrote an article about the 1968 olympic black power salute that shocked many but was quite amazing and brave. thank you, runners.

but i need to travel. it's not i WANT to travel, but i honestly feel like i need to. i need to see new places and i have a list of places i want to get to. t doesn't understand, my family doesn't understand, non-travellers don't understand: i MUST travel, i must get out there and see the world.

my mother bought me a calendar with photos of italy for xmas. it has to be the ugliest calendar i have ever seen; i resorted to pasting photos i printed out from my trip over the photos. italy is beautiful, my italy; this photographer's italy is ugly.

so i want to knit. i want to practice my spanish. i want to learn basic russian and tibetan. i want to run. i want to write. instead of wanting, i must begin doing.

my life right now

things are so crazy right now. this week has been nuts. so far, i have:

• had one of the workstudy students freak out at me for no reason and shout at me and treat me with no respect; he was thoroughly scolded later after he calmed down
  
• had t visit me and feel like a day has passed
• went to the dr for my sinus infection (still feel lousy)
• watched one workstudy spill hot cocoa on another work study's laptops (the laptop is not working and the one who spilled the cocoa has to buy a new one)
• got a 3 hour $300 haircut for free
• had my cat scratch me down my belly
• pay my bills, and my rent, and feel my stomach turn at the pitifully small amount in my bank account
• work on a black history display with the aforementioned disrespectful workstudy student who finally today produced a border of the bulletin board
• feel my cheeks burn when t cursed out a host when their restaurant was closed

and assorted other things.

sinusitis

my last semester of college, i got a bad case of sinusitis. it has unfortunately returned. it includes exhaustion (i would sleep 12 hours, wake up, go for a run, then come home to take a nap), a constant need to blow my nose, lethargy, headaches, dizziness, and nausea (this time it hasn't really been an issue; last time all i could stomach was rice chex, and as a result, i lost almost ten pounds. people said, "wow you lost weight, you look great," and all i could think was, "i'm so hungry but i'm so nauseas. ugh." i ended up quitting cross-country mid-season because it was simply too much. my coach was a constant asshole to me and didn't believe that i was sick...

so it's happening again. i don't even what to bother going to the doctor last time because it didn't help. (once, they did this thing where they cleaned out my nostrils and i smelled nyc like ever before...after leaving my doctor's i was immediately assaulted by the scent of hot dogs permeating the street and it was SO intense! little else really helped.) i'm using tiger balm, taking tylenol cold & sinus, sleeping lots. but my run this morning was ruined and it was the first one that has been like that. i wanted to do an hour, but could only eke out a 44:35 minute run and felt rather lethargic. and i'm too late for yoga now so i think i'll sit and do some slogans now.

how can songs take you back so much?

every time i hear superchunk's "detroit has a skyline too" i think of my ex because he once put it on a mix tape for me. i think of our bizarre romance, our sad breakup (him driving me home, putting on the smiths "because we have to listen to this right now," forever ruining my love of the smiths), and of the yearning lyrics of this song and it makes you think, wow, i had so much with that one person, who is so far, doing i have no clue what, and still, i have this song to take me back. walking down the street, cooking dinner, taking a shower--whenever it comes on, i'll always think of him. music takes you back to specific points--like that rave where you were dancing on the speakers, or that time you had a fight, or the belly lyrics ("stick your finger in your eye, that's the only way you cry") came true during a fight with darcy in high school. music is so important to me.

Lyrics to Superchunk's "Detroit Has a Skyline Too"
(from Here's Where the Strings Come In, and also, an acoustic version on Cup of Sand)

As soon as I got home
Reached for the phone
Drank my sleep from a can
Playing tracks 6 and 7, again and again

I had a crush
Nothing works out
Well, I had faith
Could not have known; don't even say it.

Meet me again, maybe one mile high
Meet me again, and I won't flake this time
Meet me again, Maybe a year from now
Meet me again, I think we both remember how

There was no architect designed this veiw
He could not have known about you
Mousey homes, catacombs
Detroit has a skyline, too
Detroit has a skyline, too

I had a crush
Nothing works out
Well, I had faith
Could not have known; don't even say it

Meet me again, maybe one mile high
Meet me again, and I won't flake this time
Meet me again, Maybe a year from now
Meet me again, I think we both remember how, I think we both remember how

how can songs take you back so much?

every time i hear superchunk's "detroit has a skyline too" i think of my ex because he once put it on a mix tape for me. i think of our bizarre romance, our sad breakup (him driving me home, putting on the smiths "because we have to listen to this right now," forever ruining my love of the smiths), and of the yearning lyrics of this song and it makes you think, wow, i had so much with that one person, who is so far, doing i have no clue what, and still, i have this song to take me back. walking down the street, cooking dinner, taking a shower--whenever it comes on, i'll always think of him. music takes you back to specific points--like that rave where you were dancing on the speakers, or that time you had a fight, or the belly lyrics ("stick your finger in your eye, that's the only way you cry") came true during a fight with darcy in high school. music is so important to me.

Lyrics to Superchunk's "Detroit Has a Skyline Too"
(from Here's Where the Strings Come In, and also, an acoustic version on Cup of Sand)

As soon as I got home
Reached for the phone
Drank my sleep from a can
Playing tracks 6 and 7, again and again

I had a crush
Nothing works out
Well, I had faith
Could not have known; don't even say it.

Meet me again, maybe one mile high
Meet me again, and I won't flake this time
Meet me again, Maybe a year from now
Meet me again, I think we both remember how

There was no architect designed this veiw
He could not have known about you
Mousey homes, catacombs
Detroit has a skyline, too
Detroit has a skyline, too

I had a crush
Nothing works out
Well, I had faith
Could not have known; don't even say it

Meet me again, maybe one mile high
Meet me again, and I won't flake this time
Meet me again, Maybe a year from now
Meet me again, I think we both remember how, I think we both remember how

Zora Neale Hurston Quote

I have been in Sorrow's kitchen and licked out all the pots. Then I have stood on the peaky mountain wrapped in rainbows, with a harp and sword in my hands.

stalemate

i feel as if my life is a stalemate with little glimmers of hope popping out every so often. i wouldn't go as far as saying i'm depresed, but i'm just merely gliding along, looking for something good. here are some reasons why:

• last wed, a job i had that i thought would continue until feb (i was filling in for someone while they were sick), told me, "make sure you fill out your timesheet for the rest of the week because tomorrow is your last day." shocked, i said, "it is?" so now i'm working only one job, barely enough to pay my rent.
• that same day, my other librarian job decided to increase my hours--so i'll be working 26 1/2 hours each week--and six days a week. more than ever, i realize i need to get out--soon, and find something that pays me decently.
• with the lack of one job, i can not afford my rent. i will have to borrow money from my parents.
• the person i love is far away, and will probably always be far away.
• i haven't been writing as i should, and have knitting a huge cape that will probably not be done until july.

i know i need to just snap out of it, so i am not allowing myself to focus on the bad. instead, i'm being productive with my extra time--i did a huge pile of ironing today, have been cleaning my house, reading, looking for a job. yeah, it sucks right now, but it will get better. my dad always says, "it will work out in the end," and it always does. i also found an article in the current american libraries (which i'm sending to you, v, and i ripped the article out so you won't see it, but if you want to, i can copy it for you!) about working with the peace corps setting up libraries around the world--and that was the job that appealed to me more than any tenure-track position at an nyc college. so i'm going to keep on doing what i'm doing and it will work out in the end. for now, it's a bit of a stalemate, but it won't go on like this forever.

hotel rwanda

Rachelle and I watched Hotel Rwanda last night, and I'm re-watching it again as Rachelle interpretted things for me as it went on--she studied conflict, international relations, peace process, the UN, etc, so she knew a lot about what went on in this movie and the entire Rwanda conflict, and our chatting about that and other assorted things prevented me from seeing each and every scene. It was so powerful and upsetting. Paul, a manager of a four-star international hotel, is a Hutu, and shelters his Tutsi wife, children, friends, family, and other refugees in his hotel by bribing the Hutus who wanted to murder the Tutsis. His doing so saves the lives of over 1200 people. It is a powerful and heart-breaking movie, especially as it is TRUE--based on a true storey, true events that happened.

I couldn't sleep at all last night b/c I had the images of the slaughtered people and the killers in my head and I kept waking up and dreaming of them and it was awful. And I feel so privileged with my white skin in my relatively safe NYC apt. One dream I had I was in Rwanda (helping the Tutsis) and I was so nervous I was going to get in trouble and killed by the Hutsis and at the end something bad was abt to happen (I was hiding something) but I woke up. And at one point, this nervous Tutsi woman and her child were sleeping in the same refuge house as me and when I went to sleep she was there and when I woke up she was gone--they had taken her away to be killed. It was so real and so horrid.

But this happened in 1994--I was only 14 years old. I was running track and memorizing lines in school plays and studying school and oh yeah, I heard of Rwanda, but I didn't know what was happening. And I feel guilty for not realizing about this sooner, about this genocide. But I am glad there are movies like this to tell us the true story. And you hear about Tom Cruise and bullshit movies and I think, "Damn, I am glad there are real movies being made." Even if it hurts, the truth needs to be told.

i love

i love the really intense look my cat gives me when she wants to eat. it's just a major stare down, with her eyes all big and hungry and it makes me want to run over and feed her immediately, even if she just ate. luckily i'm geting good at restraining and she's down to a normal-sized cat. meow!

if you are gonna look at me, i am gonna get a prize

When I was running today, I felt consumed with depression about money and my job situation and my whole life. It's like, when you grow up you think you'll be like your parents, but things are so different. As if I would graduate college, find myself propelled into a fascinating career, maybe go to grad school, work at the same wonderful job, get married, buy a house, have kids (this part is def out of the picture now!), do fascinating things like change your child's diapers and drink white wine with dinner. and now i'm 26, and i will probably have to borrow money from my parents to pay my rent, and i can't find a job full-time permanent doing what i'm doing, and i feel so depressed, like a failure. i've been dating someone for six years who can't bear to be living in the same state, much less get married, and the only exciting thing in my future is the possibility of getting another cat. and that i can't even afford and luna would probably claw its eyes out. and really, all i want to do is travel.
so i'm thinking all this as i'm running, getting sick of men old enough to be my grandfather checking me out, thinking, you should pay me to look at me, getting the old bikini kill song "tell me so" in my head.


Take out a piece of paper
Put your name up in the corner
Take out a piece of paper
Write everything down
Then you can read it back to me
And maybe you can hurt me
You can read it back to me
Maybe you could know something
About me
About me
If you are gonna look at me
I am gonna get a prize
If you are gonna look at me
I am gonna get a prize
If you are gonna look at me
I am gonna get a prize
Oh tell me so
I wanna know
Oh tell me so
I wanna know
And don’t stall
Tell me now
Oh shower stall
And I fell down, down
Down down down
If you are gonna look at me
I am gonna get a prize
If you are gonna look at me
I am gonna get a prize
If you are gonna look at me
I am gonna get a prize
Oh tell me so

overheard on the train

obviously gay guy: it's happening again. my eye is TOTALLY twitching.
his friend: no, i don't see anythinig. are you sure?
ogg: i'm sure. i can feel it. i can feel it but no one can see it. it's twitching.
hf: i don't see it.
ogg: it's not my eyeball, it's here. (he presses the skin of his eyelids, just below the eye and above)
(i'm trying not to laugh but i can't help it. i'm getting hysterical)
ogg: this is SO gross.
hf: yeah, i just don't see it.
ogg: it is so disturbing. (he presses his eye. i laugh.) this happens to shelia too, and no one else can see. only it's half of her face.
(i'm hysterically laughing now, because ogg is so theatrical.)
hf: what a drag.
ogg: yeah. my eye is still twitching.

a few reminders of europe this morning

i was looking at my calendar for january 22nd (i'm having a meeting) and noticed that the sunday was the 23. then i realized, oh it's a european calendar (trev bought me a small "cats of greece" calendar in, not surprisingly, greece)--mon-sun.

then, i realized my rice milk was bad (yuck, yuck, yuck, i am probably going to go back to milk which i love so much and rice milk, it's edible but that's about it) and the other one i had was warm...so i'm drinking cereal with warm milk. and i expected to want to gag but almost immediately after my first bite i thought, "europe." (in many countries they buy cartons of milk which are often unrefrigerated. other americans also complained, and i must admit, i think refrigerated milk is a much tastier idea!)

so even if i barely have enough money to buy my metrocard, i can still remember my travels. little days stand out--i though of my time where i went out for an elegant dinner alone in florence and drank one of the small carafes of wine (2 or 3 euro!) and then laughing my way home alone, thinking, oh, how i do love italy!

the manhattanite--stay away 'cause i live in brooklyn!

the dreaded manhattanite, straight of a sex in the city episode. you know he/she grew up in iowa, someplace completely dreadful, and to erase all memories of that, swear they are truly a new yorker, "i'd never move out of manhattan. queens. god. you've got to be kidding me. brooklyn!? isn't that by the bronx?" they seem to think that brooklyn is as far as connecticut. granted, growing up in long island, i have that jersey prejudice (although i must admit, i fell in love with two jerseyites, who both broke my heart, which is probably why i continue to avoid jersey!), but brooklyn, hello, i am a block and a half from the east river! i can see when there is traffic on the fdr (and it makes me glad i'm not on it!).

i used to be, "i'm never leaving manhattan." but when my boyfriend's grandmother passed away and he (with his brothers) inherited her house, i got to live in brooklyn rent free for nearly a year. having an entire house (four floors, including an attic, and a back yard, and a washing machine!) made me crave space, unlike the slovenly filth that i lived in when i was crammed into an east village apartment, or rather, very long space with a toilet, some furniture, two sinks and a shower. yup, the stove only worked some of the time, and the refrigerator was the size of the one i had in my dorm room in college. i'm glad to be beyond those days. i still miss it, i miss being near enough to walk to things, and being close to home...but at the same time, i prize my space and i love the distance i have from the tourists.

but i'm not supposed to be blathering about me. i'm annoyed at those people who are obsessed with hating the boroughs ("that's not even new york as far as i'm concerned.") and prizing their closets they call home. one guy i met was amazed; "you can afford a one bedroom?" yes, for slightly more than what he pays to share a small bedroom with another man (um, as far as i'm concerned, once you're past college years, you only share a bedroom with someone you are sleeping with, unless maybe it's your sister and she is broke and needs a place to stay or something like that) and was trying to get me excited by telling me how between his loft bed and the ceiling, there was maybe a foot and a half and how it can get really cramped during sex. um, yeah, i think i'll pass on that one.

so what is it? why are you so fearful of brooklyn? really, my commute to work, i hate to break it to you, it's probably the same as yours. in fact, it might even be shorter. *gasp* and even if it's not, i'm paying a lot cheaper rent for a lot more space and a lot less people...i'm so glad when i go running on the streets around here, i am not dodging crowds, but rather, dodging hipsters with poodles and polish ladies screeching in polish at me. yep, fun.

at the fertility clinic

desperate for money, i pondered donating my eggs. i went to an informational session today (no commitment and i don't know if i will end up doing it at all) at a fertility clinic. you get 8k if they end up taking your eggs, and they match you up with a donor--and it is very anonymous. all the women there were with either their mothers or husbands. the husbands went in with the wives, the mothers with the daughters. it was quite unusual, and i felt awkward with my ponytail and backpack (i had a huge stack of books to return to nypl!) and no one looked at me. i scrawled away on the questionaire in the waiting room, feeling nothing, writing down, not thinking.

Quote from Amelie

Without you today's emtoions would be the scurf of yesterday.
--Hipoloto

the marathon is only 11 months away

as i went on my morning run, i thought, "the marathon is only eleven months away!" most people know that "the marathon" means "the nyc marathon" which is the biggest marathon in the world! it's the one you want to win. it's not easy by any means (and yes, there are "easy marathons"-- i mean an easy course, with lots of downhills, or relatively flat) with five bridges, but the crowds--the people--it makes you want to run forever...not! i remember after finishing, being so exhausted but unable to sit. the way they arrange the finish, there is a mile before you can exit the park, and i so badly wanted to sit down with some food and just nap. i had to walk and then finally got my stuff, found my family, and felt tears in my eyes because i had accomplished an incredible feat. just getting over a bad bout of asthma, i am slowly building back up my miles. my goal is to be running 5 miles a day by the end of the month; i'd like to have the strength to be doing speed workouts by june. i'll keep you updated on my progress, as i am running strong!

missing traveling

ooooooooooooh i went to whole foods and got greek yogurt--one with honey, one without. they were quite pricey--$2 as opposed to less than 1 euro--but the memories of it will bring me back to the night in ios where t got a cheese pie, i got a yogurt, and we ate our after-clubbing food with the sun already up.

i am your librarian, not your sex goddess

frankly, i'm getting a little annoyed at my male patrons hitting on me. not all of them, but there are too many male patrons--from professors to students to prospective students. at work, i'm focused on work, thus not dressed to meet the love of my life. (and just in case you are interested, i've found the love of my life, unless of course, we break up tomorrow because he tells me he's moving back in just another six months and can't even remember the name of that city where i live--"the big one...i know it's big...ummm, it's a borough...ummm...." but no, we're fine.) anyway, i'm cataloging videos and dvds and trying to provide reference support and assistance. i can't teach you how to find academic materials online if you are staring at my ass or i can't tell you who freud is if you are asking me if i want to get dinner with you or i can't help but be annoyed after you ask me out because you heard me only seconds earlier saying "i love you sweetie" on the phone, and telling my workstudy that my partner is so great...and really, i'm not here for you to gawk at, for you to have your sex-in-the-stacks fantasy fulfilled. to me honey, that is old news.

leave those dishes in the sink...

i recant my earlier bitchfest. i wore a sweater my mother gave me out to meet alexis (although it was quite warm at the bars we were at and i took it off to hang out in a thinner shirt) and met her at her manhattan hostel. i met alexis in austria, and we went out to two different bars where we drank, chatted, had a laugh, celebrity-sighted, talked about sex and the city, talked about new york. and i think, yeah, my work situation is not the greatest, and one of my jobs could end tomorrow, but i'm getting paid, i have family who could pay my rent for me (on a loan basis, see; there are no millionaires or even wealthy people in my family!) a bit, and i forsee no danger in one of my jobs so i'll at least have those 20 hours of work a week coming in...and now, with vodka in my blood (not much, i don't even feel drunk now), yummy fresh mozzerella, sliced tomato, and fresh basil pizza in my belly, i'm ready for sleep! goodnight!

a grey new year

so far, 2006 has been a very ugly, nasty, grey year. yesterday it was grey and ugly. t and i slept off our fun new year's (we drank two bottles of wine at a house party, where we kissed in the new year, then met some friends at a bar) until noon, then grabbed some brunch. t spent much of the day on the computer looking at a laptop to buy, while i wrote a letter, did a bit of reading, thought about doing some editing. i feel like a sloth as i rarely write, and with my asthma giving me trouble, haven't run in ages. towards the end of the evening, after dinner, we spent hours on the futon, cuddling and talking: something i miss more than anything else. i miss his everday presence.

t left early this a.m., at 5am, and i slept till nearly 9. i did some shopping for foodstuffs, then went to my parents' house. i'm still pretty unhappy with everything, seeing as they basically send "since your brother is a crazy asshole we will fuck you and your sister over on xmas since he needs us more than you two need us," esp as i worked hard knitting scarves, baking, etc., and i felt my whole visit was rather awkward and insincere. maybe i don't want to be friends with my parents; i felt like a stranger and kept to myself. there is a family party tomorrow but i have mad shit to do and doubt i'll get there. and it's pissing rain. my mother gave me xmas gifts, sweaters, sweaters, and shirts. the map of the world she got me was 9 years old, sans frame, although i insisted i am no longer a college student using pushpins and fun tak to hold up (rather haphazardly) my interests on my wall in poster form. i don't really want a lot of stuff right now; i am giving stuff away, piling stuff, offering stuff, recycling stuff, trashing stuff. i want to be free for when i leave. so these gifts feel very confusing. i'll try them on later, except the gap sweater--my mom insists i never spoke about my opposition to the gap and its sweatshop labor policies (complete with a cheer: we're gonna SWEAT! burn some calories! get WET! drop our salaries! if you want the world's best diet, try to eat when you can't buy it! join a sweatshop, it's a snap! support a sweatshop, shop at GAP!), which was left at her house for a return and the money--which i despeartely need as my two jobs are NOT paying my bills--my savings keep decreasing and decreasing and soon there will be nothing left.

with the rain, and my parents and i on outs, and t no longer here, and my trouble breathing, i feel down. i hope this is not a foreshadowing for 2006--although my new years eve/new years early hours were fantastic.