Everyone Seems to be Breaking Up Right Now

"I'm tired of being my relationship. I have a relationship with myself. I want to be in a relationship where there are two people involved," said K earlier today. She is also breaking up with her boyfriend. Well said. We both agreed we're sick of doing all the work, all the trying, all the effort. I wonder if our boyfriends/ex-boyfriends will be able to find stupid women to do all the work in future relationships.

On my way out of work, I heard L saying on the phone, "There's no point in being in a relationship when nobody's happy." It was as if he said it for me, but didn't. How true, and how often we forget it.

why my boss told me to keep the jar of rubber cement i use when processing new books locked up in my cabinet

"let me see that," said a, a student yesterday.

i hand the jar to a and stare at him curiously. he opens it, and sniffs. and sniffs.

i grab it from him.

"this," i tell him, "is the reason we keep this jar locked up."

My Life is Not a Movie

today andy and i were walking around union square after lunch to grab a muffin or cookie at the farmer's market. there was a movie being filmed in the area, with signs announcing that if you walk in the area you may be on film. we ignored this in search of the perfect sweet.

"where are all the cookies?" i kept asking, knowing there is usually the small vegan stand, the cooky stand, the stand with the awesome ginger sugar cookies and pumpkin breads--we kept seeing stands of apples, rows of cider arranged rather formerly, and other veggies i haven't seen in abundance in a while. finally, andy and i discover a stand with muffins and apple cider sugar donuts. "this will have to do."

no one is behind the stand, but a cop comes up to us, telling us, "this is part of the set."

"yeah, but we'd like to just buy a muffin."

"no, we're not selling anything. none of these booths is. it's just part of a movie set."

it suddenly dawns on me that this is why no one had been standing in any of the booths. dejected, we haunt the streets until we find a crappy deli and get our sweet fix there.

perfume sample

i opened my latest macy's circular and your cologne fell out. i left it on the floor, and ignored it for a day. today i looked at the cologne, and opened the little flap. your scent exploded, and i felt dizzy with my loneliness for you. i put the cologne sample away with some of your stuff that i need to give you when i see you, yet still, your scent lingers around my apartment. i miss you more than ever.

how do we break up in 2006?

my breakups in the past have been a bit hazy at times--one of my exes stopped returning my calls, another made me listen to the smiths as we cried driving home, another told my best friend we broke up, i told one i was too busy to date anyone...in other words, it's hard to say, "i don't want to be with you--it's over." however, breaking up is harder than ever these days.

three of my close friends and i have been talking about our messed up relationships for years--about trying to break up with our partners, about how we try to break up but can't, continue in our relationships that are similiar to "treading water." two of them are broken up (in one of them, he made the call), and j even moved out--though they were still doing the whole sleeping together thing--which i think is what makes it all muddled. however, after four months, she finally cut him out of her life in all ways, and i'm proud of her. another one of my friends is living with her ex (this is new york city and moving out is a long expensive process, especially when you can't afford your rent without your significant other or a significant another) and another one of my friends is living with her ex but has a plan to move out in three months.

and me, finally, after forever and threats and crying jags and a basically crazy relationship, especially the past year and a half, well, i think i broke up with t--but i'm not sure. i told v today, "the only way things will work out with t is if he proves to me that he really wants to be with me by looking for a job here and by making more of an effort in our relationship"--which he hasn't put any effort into it for ages. he doesn't love me as much as i love him. and i give the fuck up.

all i have been thinking lately is: they say absence makes the heart grow fonder but neglect leads to decay.

so last night we ended it on the fact that we were taking space for a few days, and he'll come down here in a few weeks and talk about it more. but i feel this strange numbness--like if i think about it, really think about it, i start to get really upset and scared and maybe cry--but otherwise, i'm realizing, it's pretty much time this happened. our relationship has not grown in years. like i could not stay in boulder without sacrificing the growth and development of myself, i cannot stay in this relationship.

so how do we break up in 2006? you complain to your friends, fight, have "discussions," try, cry and say, "no, i love you, i can't end it," try again, try harder, fight, get depressed because you realize it is going nowhere, say you ended it, hang out with them, maybe sleep with them, look at other people and think, "i don't have a boyfriend but i have a situation," slowly drift apart, and one day, maybe i'll realize i'm truly free from t.

and that makes me sad and i'm still hoping my "situation" will turn around and we will be together. till then, i'm listening to my sad playlist on itunes.

happy tibetan new year

today for the tibetan new year, i went with richard to his dharma center. it was a bit of a flashback to my naropa times: the second i smelled the incense, saw the hangings, greeted the lamas, i felt at home. we sat and did a lot of chanting in tibetan--which was hard as the pace was fast and the syllables unfamiliar. however, i felt amazing chanting it, i felt calm, i felt at home.

i realize this should be a time when i need to make changes: i have an interview on wednesday i have high hopes for, and i think i may have just broken up with t. it has been going nowhere for a year and a half now, and he doesn't care, and i'm sick of putting all the effort into it, and i feel lost and empty and i'm hoping it isn't over, but i told him we shouldn't talk for a few days. so now i'm scared, but i know he isn't dedicated to me anyway.

my new year's resolution for the tibetan new year is to boldly create my life as i want it to be. the first step is living for myself, living in the now. i haven't cried yet, but i suppose the reality of living my life for myself hasn't hit me yet.

a temp job at a very unusual location

Today I had quite a bizarre day. I got a temp job arranging the library of this rich family on the Upper East Side. As I quickly learned, it was in the world's richest apartment building--literally. The couple had recently moved there and were redecorating. Our job (myself and two of the librarians running the staffing agency) was to arrange books into subject categories on beautiful bookshelves. It was an exhausting day (at a fairly decent salary, I must admit!) where I was teetering on a ladder in heeled boots (with booties over my feet; all of the "help" had to wear disposable booties when they were in the house to protect the floor, but not the missus and their friends), carrying boots, etc. It required quick thinking to determine where the book should be placed (not always that simple!) as well as climbing ladders, navigating small spaces, trying not to bump into insanely expensive furniture or break or stain or tear anything.

Their house reminded me of the Palace of Versailles. They had a huge staff--wearing uniforms, an intercom system, a kitchen the size of my apartment (not counting the staff kitchen and the wine room), marble circular staircases, marble floors, expensive rugs, antiques, foreign art, real paintings on the wall, paneling from France--the looked as if it were in Versailles. Words cannot even do justice at the gorgeousness of this house.

Of course, I also found photo albums of the couple at Bush Senior events (and later learned they contribued a disgusting amount of money to Bush Junior), and a book on how wonderful Dubya is and a Rush Limbaugh book. Gag.

It was so nice to check out all the beautiful rooms, but at the same time, I did not like the museum that was my temporary workplace. It seemed a waste of money, and so ostentanious. He works in the petroleum world, so I suppose what else will he do with his money? (Sarcasm)

Sigh.

tuesday

yesterday i heard some woman talk about her job, about days off, and i felt very envious. and i realize, seriously, i need to find a new job--one with holiday pay and vacation pay and all that good stuff. it's nice to sleep till 8am, go for a run, shower, eat some oatmeal while my cat plays in patches of sunlight on the living room rug, do my errands during the day, look for a job while listening to music--i like not working a lot, but everyone seems to think i have heaps of time (which i def don't--if anything, i'm busy, but not chaotically busy like i have been in the past). i need to get more aggressive with my job search, and i need to start thinking outside my box--in other words, considering corporate librarian jobs. the thought makes me sad but i can't really make my living this way, and working part-time, i don't feel like i have a "career"--i feel like i have a "job." and i love working as a librarian, and want it to be taken more seriously.

ecstasy is a state of mind

today i went to my favorite yoga class with elias, which i normally miss because of my incredibly annoying schedule. i take advantage of intersessions and holidays to attend his class.

at one point, he put on this amazing portuguese song with these incredible vocals and such high energy, saying prior to it: "for the next 4 minutes and 42 seconds you are going to work." and we did--throughout the sun salutations i worked hard, and felt my heart blossom (it is anusra yoga, after all) with the music and i realized several things:

1. i love t deeply.
2. things between t and i are probably not going to work out, and sadly, we both realize it, and we are pursuing it for some reason, but i have a feeling we will part ways soon.
3. i need to find a job that provides me with the opportunity to go to yoga. also a job that gives me more pay, normal hours, and regular days off, or at least, two days off in a row.
4. i must write.
5. yoga is a part of me. unlike the idiot who said to me earlier, "have fun in your little yoga class" (have fun with your little mind in your little world) yoga is not necessarily about improving my health and my physical wellness--although it does that. it is my spiritual and mental practice, and i adore it. it is like running to me, but different.
   

sometimes if life were the other way, things might suck, or at least, be totally different

latey i've been bemoaning the fact that i am not working a 9to5 (and thus rarely see many of my friends) but recently i've done several things i never would have been able to do otherwise. so instead of moaning about my lack of money, let me just say a few rad things about my annoying work schedule:

1. on thursday and friday, i did loooooong runs (8 miles) at noon. i got to run through the streets of williamsburg university (i swear, it feels like boulder over there!) and enjoy the warmest part of the day. it was really fun to just run for as long as i wanted and experience the middle of the day sights, like sva students arguing about philosophy over lattes at the verb cafe.
2. i wake up at 8am--or later. i generally get up at 8am so i can get a run in, shower, eat breakfast, and take advantage of my free time. i spend my mornings cooking, baking, job hunting, reading, knitting, doing yoga, taking care of errands. it's quite nice like that.
3. going out late. on thursday, i spontaneously went out to several clubs with this promoter--bed, spirit, and home. we had a really good time, and i hesitated ("no, i should get home") but seriously, what's the good of not working till late afternoon if i can't go out dancing till 4am every so often? i had fun dancing and meeting heaps of people. i love clubbing.
   
4. free time for interviewing during the days, as well as dealing with other stupid stuff like calling macy's credit card billing and other such stuff
   

two other funny quotes

"I don't want to date you, I want your money." (from a stripper)


'a girl doesn't need a boy to be happy, she just needs a horse' (from a little sweet english girl). damn straight.

quote of the day

"i tried so hard not to have sex with him. i didn't shave my legs, i wore ugly underwear, and i had my period! i don't know how it happened."

my weekend of booties and snow

so this weekend was a little crazy, and definitely fun. bootsnall was having a travel meetup in new york city, so it began friday night at a dive bar fairly close to my job called rudy's. after kicking everyone out of hte library, i headed over there. i needed to catch up with the amount of alcohol they consumed, so quickly tipped back one lovely drink, but in very good spirits.

i met so many wonderful people, and it's awesome that these are people i communicated with for months and/or years over travel message boards, so it was mentioned how i hated paris, and the crappy stage of my relationship, and my job as a librarian. after drinking and getting to know each other, we hopped the W train down to 8th street, and headed to the st mark's ale house, where we (surprise) drank more. it was awesome to talk with people and learn more about who they are and where we are going next. i'm hoping my next trip is western asia, but it could be latin america. we'll see. some people went to sleep, some people went to drink, some people went to dance. i went home and slept as i had to work the next day.

work was work. some of the booties walked across the brooklyn bridge, while i did inventory on videos. after i came home, tracy ann (who was staying with me, along with nerokerr) cracked open a bottle of wine. we left as the snow flurried around us, and headed to the st mark's ale house. we drank and chilled there, and betty gave out our "all access passes" with everyone's names on them--but names were quickly learnt (except, in a moment of alcohol-induced stupor, someone might call you something else!).

after drinking, we headed to yaffa cafe for dinner. laura was coming and i ran outside to meet her, inadvertently dropped my mobile phone. i realized it, and everyone went on to yaffa, while i searched up and down st mark's place, in the bar, everywhere. i called my phone but to no avail. i felt sad, and rachel told me she also lost her phone in a cab the other night but was hopeful it would turn up in the lost and found on monday.

we ate dinner. we drank wine. we headed over to the union bar and grill on park b/t 17th and 18th, a fairly nice and chill place. we took it over at 8pm, drinking entirely too much (note to all: do not mix jaager shots with beer and vodka. no! no sickness!), dancing. anytime i danced, steve or mes would pull out their cameras to film it, shouting, "librarian gone wild." this was the theme for everything i did that night. i ended up dancing with a parisian guy who lives in the east village. fueled by vodka, i shouted, "i HATE paris!" i danced with him until he (drunker than i) slipped on his back. i collapsed laughing and his friend accused me of pushing him. i took the opportunity to get away from him. before i knew it, i was also being seduced by an italian guy. "i LOVE italy! i love the food! i love the people! i love it! i love it !" he was from sicily and we talked about italy and then he tried to kiss me. "italian men are so aggressive," i shouted as jillian rescued me.

at some point, (captain) steve and i decided to get married--in ten years time. he threw out the date june 5--my birthday--but in 10 years. he told everyone we were waiting 4 years for our first kiss. handholding in a year. we're taking it slow, especially b/c of t--who seems to be drifting further and further away from me lately. steve and i were joking, but it was good fun and i def would love it if he would move to nyc. then he could teach rachel how to fly and i could go running with him. i called my mom on tracy's phone, asking her to call verizon. verizon turned my service off. two hours later, she called me back saying someone had found my phone and called my dad. i was so psyched. celebration! tip that glass back. we danced more, with shouts of "librarian gone wild" every time i seemed to get up. three girls squeezed into the bathroom stall next to betty (i was waiting) saying "i need to wipe my vagina" and her friend saying, "shhh! other people are here," and the peer saying, "but she has a vagina too!" jillian rounded all of us up--all of us who were still on the move--and we headed to a dive bar in the east village.

joey--from fla--seemed happy at the snow--and we were all cold. some ad guy tried to pick me up, not knowing that my future husband was nearby. husband--please, people, this is a joke. i'm not going back on my anti-marriage stance. i'm not anti-marriage, i'm just anti-marriage with three kids in the suburbs is the only way to live lifestyle choice. the people who look down on free spirit travelers like us. at some point, we migrated into cabs taking us back to our respective sleeping locations.we slept. the next day, i went and met my cell phone savoir--not to be confused with nerokerr aka jason aka jesus. (he looks like jesus and at one point, someone said, "christ on a cracker!" making us all laughing hysterically and jason is also called jesus, and jillian's handle is crackerjillian.) after, i sipped chai at my favorite cafe while writing a letter to my favorite friend (you know who you are!), and then met up with steve for "our first date" (which i paid for, but he paid for dinner, so it was dutch) at my favorite indian place. we ate a lot, got free tea and ice cream and soup, and i love love love living in nyc and the international community--from my israeli cell phone savoir to the drunken italian and french men to the indian servers chatting with me--i love that about new york. i am not going anywhere anytime soon. after finishing, steve and i headed to fao schwartz, where we played with toys (inc a ken doll that seemed to have an erection wearing only boxer shorts) and baby dolls scarily lifelike but luckily silent (jillian and i: "we want a siamese indonesia baby. where are they?"). after, we headed to central park to play in the snow and take photos. drinking champagne and jaager shots were also involved. beautiful. the snow was no longer coming down, but everything was so beautiful.

after, we headed down to dojo's (i swear, i never hang out on st mark's pl this much!) and ate and talked. rachel found out her cell phone had been used to call columbia 12 times!!! we ate and talked and then watched the olympics, commenting on hot snowboarders and yummy spandex speedskating suits among other things. boston bill, erik, rachel, steve, and i left together to go our separate ways. going home, i felt lonely, and missed all my travel buddies already. i love bootsnall more than ever.

library patron

a patron comes into the library, and goes up to the librarian. (he has called me before "my favorite librarian." bonus points for using the proper term "librarian" over the popular term "lie-berr-ee-ann.")

patron: so, what do you do for fun? besides when you're in the library?
(apparently, working is fun for me--i like my job, but it's not what i do for fun!)

me: nothing. this is fun. i never leave the library because it's so great.

patron: really? wow. you love your job.

me: (bursting into laughter) no! i have a life. i don't spend all my time here.

patron: (looking confused) oh. (goes and sits down to study)

record-setting blizzard in brokeback central park

this weekend, new york city received the most snow it ever had since they have been keeping tabs on the weather--almost 27 inches! crazy. this weekend of all weekends, bootnsall decided to have a new york city meet up, with people flying from cali, michigan, florida, ohio to talk about traveling, drink a lot, drink some more, eat some more, and oh yeah, drink. so the snow blizzard meant everyone got to stay in new york city an extra day.

yesterday we all went to central park--which many others did. it was just beautiful. people were skiing, snowboarding, sledding, having snowball fights, walking. we jumped around in the snow, threw snowballs at each other, took photos.

today of course, there's piles of slush in every crosswalk, brown snow, yellow snow, grey snow, black snow, and occasionally, white snow. the beauty is gone but luckily, i recorded what was beautiful yesterday with my camera in the freezing cold temperatures of new york city yesterday.

a conversation between richard and i more than once....

me:
(walking by central park, the haven of running for new yorkers)
oh, i would love to live around here. imagine being so close to the park.
(ignoring snotty rich people and expensive rent and the fact that i never hang out north of 28th street)

richard:
oh, i hate it. like a cemetary. i would never want to live here. once, i visited a friend who lived up here, and i looked out the window: the buildings reminded me of tombstones. ugly!

i heart ginzy

Fourth Floor, Dawn, Up All Night Writing Letters

Pigeons shake their wings on the copper church roof out my window across the street, a bird perched on the cross surveys the city's blue-grey clouds. Larry Rivers 'll come at 10 AM and take my picture. I'm taking your picture, pigeons. I'm writing you down, Dawn. I'm immortalizing your exhaust, Avenue A bus. O Thought, now you'll have to think the same thing forever! Allen Ginsberg

all married people don't suck

apologies in case i offended any married suburban people: all of you don't suck. my point is not that living married with children in the suburbs is a kind of death, but it is not for me. i am speaking my piece because i am frustrated with constantly being questioned about why i'm not married, how come i don't want kids, that sort of thing. my ideal would be to live someplace, travel for a while, work and live, travel...i don't see kids as part of my future (i suppose i can tolerate being an aunt, and i will like kika's and mccormick's babies) but i don't want you asking about why my belly is so flat. frankly, why don't you worry about your life and i'll handle mine.

p.s.
if you can be married and still sending links to hot australian bikini ads for men, you are totally cool, even if you did live in a housing complex with a name like "the whistling winds" and wear an apron--and if you are gay, even better! hah!

love shouldn't be for you

i hate when people are arrogant in their love and we's. they shouldn't be allowed to fall in love.

like, can you talk abt yrself instead of "we" "us" "my fiancee" "my boyfriend"

my throwup bucket.

marriage + kids + home = suburban death

i've noticed friends and friends of friends who are simply boring me to tears while being self-righteous about my single and free life.

question: "when are you getting married?"
answer: "none of your fucking business. and why do i need to get married? so i can get caught up in exciting discussions like which formula is the best to use?"

i have friends who are married living in little condos and houses that are replicas of each other, absorbed in their work and "making our marriage work" and waxing their cars and shopping at wal-mart and feeling giddy with two glasses of wine at dinner. that's the first step.

the second step is when they have children. i have two pregnant friends right now who are seemingly normal and i don't think they'll become the lunatics i despise so much. in fact, i know that they will always be cool. i have heard horror stories about this but i am holding out for them because i love them dearly. but i know people who have children. they can't go anywhere without talking about their children. they worry when they are away from them, they constantly discuss their children (as if i fucking care? i know you don't care about my cat so i keep that to myself, but i love my cat a lot and i don't bore you with how she is liking her new litter and the really cute way in which she sips water). library school was dreadful; the mothers were clueless on their identity and would simply cite their children's preference for specific books, as if that decided whether a book is a caldecott winner or not. parents: do us a favor--SHUT UP.

the house step is slightly different. it can become before or after the second step. you can be normal, like my old coworker libby, and look at heaps of different apartments. but then, libby lives in brooklyn and is cool. no, i'm talking about the people who move out to the land of backyards, strip malls, and even good old fashioned malls themselves! they talk about school systems, playgrounds, suvs, washing machines. they talk about grout, about their gutters and leaf-covered lawns, about stock options and mortgages. as if i care? shut up and move someplace exciting, like new york city. but wait, we don't want boring people here.

question: "when are you going to get married to t? you've been together for seven years."
answer: "none of your fucking business. i'm perfectly happy living my single new york city life."

there was a time when i thought about marriage, but i don't feel like i need it so desperately. i love t, but we have a very free relationship in many ways. last night i went out with one of my oldest friends, rachelle, and dressed up in a tiny tube top, bubble wrap and sparkley pants for a party where i drank, danced, and met so many people. the "normal" couples wore jeans, held hands tightly, and looked uncomfortable at the freedom of the singletons on the dance floor. t probably doesn't think of me as single but when he is not around i feel like i am (although i do not behave badly!) with different men approaching me. instead, i use these experiences as a way of learning about new people. i danced with a former londoner and also, an actor who taped empty milk cartons to his entire body. with loud music, glitter and confetti everywhere, drunken kisses, vodka shots from a watergun, it was a night to stay out until last call and sway your way home with a walk filled with conversation about nearly everything.

i'm not in a rush for anything. and if i do get married, i am not rushing out to book a hall, make my friends dress in identical hideous dresses, spend heaps of money. what i'd love to do really is hop several planes to a remote south pacific island and do something totally romantic and fun. or go to brazil and dance drunkenly in the streets of rio. something fucking tradition. tradition is nice but there is no fucking way i will becoming wife to some man. i am me, i am free, and i am having a fucking brilliant time.

enjoy your suburban death; i'll keep my comments to myself (on here) and be polite to your face. now won't you do the same?

models

so at work some of the fashion forecasting services books are on my desk, and before putting them back behind the reference desk, i started randomly flipping through them to see how unstylish i will be in the spring. however, what caught my eye was the models.

the models, of course, are sickeningly thin, and some of them are seriously gross in their thinness. their thin faces are often not even pretty, but merely used as an easel for the designers to relay their products.

but their faces: their faces are so blank. they never can smile, always staring straight ahead into space. their eyes are indifferent, yet filled with intensity, and perhaps even anger. their eyes are giving almost a dirty look, a glare, a "you waste my time move" look, a "you aren't even worth my time" look. and it's sad because i think fashion is very beautiful but the model culture doesn't make it that way.

models and drugs

in high school, we were always in awe of kate moss. "she drinks, smokes cigs, eats what she wants, and she's still so thin," i remember a friend saying with envy in her voice. probably all the coke meant she ate once a week so i'm guessing that's how she stayed so thin. but now the fact that she has done coke is all over the place with photographs to prove it. h&m dropped moss as their model, and london authorities had a "talk" with her. how come if i was caught with heaps of coke i would be arrested and if kate moss or another celebrity is caught it's rehab and "oh poor kate, she just didn't know what she was getting into"? oh please. i'm sick of special treatment for celebrities.