Ah yes, me again

I've been tagged by cajunvegan. No, not vegan as in doesn't eat animal products of any sort. Vegan as in lives in Las Vegas. Get it? I love the title of her blog - I Read Banned Books. How cool is that?

The tag is to list the 7 most famous or infamous people I have ever met or to do the typical 7 weird things about me meme. I'm going to tackle the infamous/famous people side. We'll see how this goes...

1) Tim Gunn - Fashionisto. Brilliant mentor. Met him several times near Parsons a couple years ago. The 3rd time I ran into him he actually remembered me. He's very nice and genuine - he looks you in the eye when he speaks to you even if you're just a stranger.

2) Philip Seymour Hoffman - Actor. Genius. Lit my cig back in the days of smoking after seeing a play he directed at The Public Theatre. I love that he uses 3 names. He was born in Fairport, NY. I used to live there. Weird.

3) Matthew's ex-girlfriend. Not naming her. But, the reason I include her is that she was my favorite musician for 3 years. Her music was the soundtrack to my life, I went to her shows all the time. I had such a strong personal connection to her songs. M & I met at one of her shows (scandalous!) and the next week they had broken up. Turns out he & I had been in the same room dozens of times and never met until that one night almost 2 years ago. Crazy. I haven't listened to her in 2 years. I still have some sadness that her music is missing from my life, but when I learned the real stories behind those lyrics I loved so much they lost meaning for me. I still keep her in my iPod, but I don't listen anymore.

4) Michael Fay - Remember this kid? He got caned in Singapore for spray painting cars. I know him from his prep school days.

5) Jon Stewart - Funny, sexy man. He was walking with his kid in a stroller. Wearing a ballcap. Adorable. Short - about 5'6". Totally lickable. Yeah, lickable. Plus, he changed THE Daily Show to A Daily Show while the writers are on strike because he maintains it's not the same show. Love that.

6) Amy Sedaris - Hilarious. Actor. Comedienne. Crafter. Personal hero.

7) Jeremy Sisto - Actor. Ran into him on my block. He brings the hotness. Actually high school friends with a guy I almost married about 5 years ago. Dodged that bullet!

There are rules to this game. Tags shall be bestowed upon unsuspecting fellow bloggers of note. Don't feel like you have to, but if you want to give it a shot, have at it! If you tag someone you have to tell them in a comment on their blog. Here goes: The Rover, Retro Girl, Safa, Jenn, Sandra.

Excuse me, have you seen my pocket protector?

I am a huge nerd. Tonight Matthew and I are going to a seminar in midtown about lutes and Galileo and how the lively music of the Italian Renaissance contributed to his discovery of the law of falling bodies.

I am not kidding. We have a nerd date.

Apparently there will be a lute concert of sorts, then some reenactments of the experiments Galileo conducted in order to prove his theory and get it ever closer to the highest esteemed title of "law". I'm not sure how the lutes relate to the law, but they do and I'm sure I'll be an expert on it by 9PM tonight. If you're not recalling your middle school science class, Galileo's Law of Falling Bodies states that objects will fall to the earth at the same rate irrespective of their mass. So, if you and your fat neighbor and your skinny little sister jump off a bridge at exactly the same time and speed (in a vacuum because wind resistance messes things up, of course), you'll all hit the water at the same time. This discovery enabled the future study of terminal velocity and gravitational force on objects of varying mass.

Nerdy nerd nerd, blah blah blah.

Words of wisdom from tinseltown

"Ever notice that 'what the hell' is always the right decision?"

- Unknown Hollywood script writer (obviously before the current strike)

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Orange you glad I didn't say banana?

Last Monday morning Matthew and I loaded Duke up in the car and drove into the city for his dermatology appointment. You read that right - his dermatology appointment.

I'm a 30 year old human and I've never been to a dermatologist. Duke is a 4 year old dog and he now has the premiere canine dermatologist in greater New York on his list of regular medical professionals. If you've been here before you've read about the various expensive vet appointments we've had in recent months because Duke can't seem to kick this rash/skin infection thing he's contracted. With the recent $600 trip to the derm our total for this one issue now totals $1,500. At this point I just have to laugh about it.

Let me tell you, this dermatologist is amazing. I love all Duke's doctors, they're all outstanding people. But this woman, in particular, awes me. She's French, which is always fun for me because I get to use my woefully underused second language. We discussed the diagnosis and prognosis all in French. She thinks he has food allergies. Apparently food allergies make dogs far more susceptible to staph and yeast infections of the skin - both of which Duke is battling. Turns out, he's allergic to the staph bacteria and he's developed an allergy to something he's eating which is limiting his body's ability to combat the infection.

The trick is that there is no reliable allergy test for canines as there is for humans. If you guys have been offered to have a lab test your dog to determine allergen sensitivity this dermatologist insists they're trying to steal your money because not one of the tests is remotely reliable. The only way to tell what's bugging Duke is to put him back on antibiotics again and also start a 10 week cycle of homemade, veggie based food and then introduce various proteins into his diet in intervals to see what makes him sick. The most common food allergy in dogs is an animal protein, so that means for the next 9 weeks (we already have a week under our belts) Duke has to eat 4-5 cups of 50% pinto beans mixed with 50% pumpkin or yams with some peanut oil or molasses for extra calories twice a day. Appetizing, right? Blech! He actually seems to love it.

Most hilarious side effect of Duke's new diet? Bright orange poo. His poop looks exactly like the pumpkin he eats. And there's lots of it. Good lord. 10 cups of orange food every day makes for lots of "side effect".

Sweet

We're off to meet Kerri and her fiance for dinner in the city. Planning on doing some grocery shopping afterward... we'll see how well that plan goes into action for us.

Can't see straight

Just got home from the redeye back to New York. So glad to be back. New York never looked so good to me. Best part? Matthew brought Duke with him when he came to pick me up at the airport. That was the most adorable welcoming committee ever formed.

Quick story about my ditzy behavior this week before I head off for a nap: Tuesday morning my flight took off at 6AM, so I was going through security around 4:45. It was wicked early and I was quite sleepy. Everyone in line went through the motions - take off shoes, place them in bin, take off jacket, place it in bin, take laptop out of bag, place it in bin, take off belt... you get the idea. I was putting my shoes back on when I heard a woman behind me start to scream and yell. She had been picked for random search and she was none too happy about it. Her volume kept increasing and so did the tension at the security checkpoint. She was pissed because she was apparently running a little late and she was insistent that she was being searched because she was black. You can imagine how it escalated from there. It was loud. The whole scenario was so damn loud. I couldn't wait to get away from the screaming. I got to my gate, relieved I had escaped the ruckus. I boarded the plane, connected in Cincinnati, boarded another plane for Seattle, everything was fine. About halfway to Seattle I opened my eyes wide and my heart started to race, it almost felt as if I had the wind knocked out of me. Why? I realized I left my laptop at the checkpoint. I never put the thing back in my bag. I was so concerned with getting my various clothes back on so I could get away from The Screamer that I just left without it. I had to borrow a computer all week from the Seattle office and hope and pray that when I got back to JFK they'd have mine in the lost & found.


You wouldn't believe how many laptops they have there! The woman working the desk told me they get about 2 a day - and that's just one terminal. Each terminal has its own TSA department and each department has its own lost & found. 2 laptops per day x 4 terminals... you get the idea. The kicker is that they had my laptop, but it doesn't have my name in it yet since it's one of the replacement computers IT had to send me when I had all those hardware issues last week. It still had the IT guy's name in it. I told her what name would be in it, but she wasn't going to let me take it because the name wasn't mine. Sorry lady, but I can guarantee you no one would be able to randomly guess a Pakistani name with more syllables than you can count. It's not the kind of name you just pull out of thin air. She was dead set on following procedure and said I couldn't take it unless this guy got on the phone to verify I could have it. There was no way I could get a hold of him at 6AM Seattle time on a Saturday morning. I figured I had to do the only thing I could think of to get that computer back.

I turned on the waterworks. Crying does it every time. I can cry at the drop of a hat, so this worked out well. I started blubbering about how if I didn't have that computer for my meeting on Monday morning I'd get fired and I'm getting married in 3 months and I won't be able to pay for the wedding and my fiance would leave me and I'd be shunned by my family... It was a stellar performance. A real show stopper. A minute after the tears started I was walking out of the airport, computer in hand.

Home again, home again...

Heading home tonight at 11:05. Nothing like a redeye flight to let you know you're living (gag). The trip has been more productive than I expected it to be and the meetings were far less stressful than I had anticipated. Things still aren't peachy keen on the job front, but at least now I feel it will be easier to stick it out until after the wedding and make a decision about whether to stay or go then. I have a little more peace of mind now and that makes a huge difference. Almost like my job got a little stay of execution.

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There's something really cool about eating Washington state apples in Washington state.

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Today's views were a bit better. Trees out the taxi window, mountains out the plane window, not a cubicle in sight.

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I wonder...

How do you know when it’s right? How do you know when something is worth fighting for, worth sticking around for? How can you tell when you’re making the right decision, whether that means staying or going?

I’m struggling with that right now in terms of work and my best friend is struggling with it in terms of her relationship with her boyfriend. We’re both feeling fed up and frustrated, and even worse – we’re feeling apathetic. She’s just made a major change in her life and it’s affecting her relationship. Things were strained to begin with and this new change is going to shake things up further. I’m having a similar experience in the sense that I’ve had a major change with work – I’m now working from home and it’s been very difficult – and I know that change will continue to affect things as time goes on.

In the midst of the changes, apathy has set in for both of us. I don’t know if it’s better to be dissatisfied and angry or apathetic and indifferent. I know both feel pretty bad. She’s basically at the point where she’s not too concerned about whether they will work through things or not. The relationship could officially end tomorrow and she’d be fine. She’d be sad about it, sure, but she’d be fine with it and in many ways it would be a relief. My situation is that I’m not caring as much as I once did about my job and it’s leading me to question whether or not I’ll stick around. I don’t really care about the job, but I do care about the paycheck and in many ways I care about the people I work with and I feel some loyalty to them. That loyalty will make it hard to leave when the time comes. Sort of like her relationship – she’s invested time, energy, and emotion and now she’s feeling like her investments aren’t panning out. She’s ready to cut her losses and walk away.

I’ve had meetings all week with my bosses and then today we met with the client. Things seem to be OK. I know my bosses want me to stay, they have plans for me and want to involve me in some initiatives they’re planning. While it’s flattering and a great boost for my ego to hear how much they appreciate my hard work, it only makes me feel like I have to stay because I don’t want to let them down. It’s a ridiculous feeling because the only person I should be truly concerned about in this situation is myself. I’m a professional and not some child looking for approval. If I’m not happy then why should I stay in a job I don’t like… just because I don’t want people to be disappointed in me? That’s rather pathetic and not a sound basis for any decision. Similarly, why should my best pal stick around and pour more energy into something that she doesn’t think is worth it?

I think I’ll stay until the wedding and see how things go. If there are shifts in the way my company deals with things and they’re able to follow through on promises they made to me this week then it will be a bearable about of time to stay until I can figure out my next step. If those promises aren’t kept and things fall apart again it will be a tough time period, but I think it’s unwise to leave before the wedding. In terms of timing it just doesn’t make sense. It’s 3 months away. Pretty much that means 90 days for the company to prove to me that they’re worth keeping. If in 90 days I’m feeling as dissatisfied as I have been the past month then I’ll plan my exit. I decided the stress that will inevitably come with leaving this job is not something I want to undertake right before we get married. Poor Matthew, if he had to listen to me whine and see me fall to pieces in the weeks before the wedding I think he’d go nuts. I don’t want to do that to him or to me.

As for now it feels like both my friend and I are looking ahead, but keeping our eye out for the exit strategy. Looking straight ahead, but keeping that peripheral vision keen.

P.S. I’m writing this on a plane from San Jose to Seattle and the flight attendant is on the loudspeaker talking about the Visa application for Alaska Air that gives 20,000 bonus miles. They’re going to be passing out application forms any minute now. She’s been talking for 3 minutes. It’s loud. It’s annoying. Last time I checked, I didn’t pay for a flight in order to be advertised to. This is annoying. It’s like the commercials that air before the previews when you go to the movies. You pay for the ticket and then they make you sit through advertisements. Does anyone else think there’s something wrong with that? This might call for an email to the airline stating my position.

One benefit of business travel - the massive hotel bed.

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ugh

I'm in Seattle and the best view I've had all day is the shopping center parking lot out this office window. Gross. The magestic Pacific Northwest is right out there and I'm stuck in here in my own corporate hell. I must have done something terrible in a past life.

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I'm leaving on a jet plane...

And then another... and another... and another...

Tomorrow morning I fly out to Seattle at 6AM. Yeah, I know. 6AM. The kicker is that it's not even a direct flight. I have to go the entire way across the country and my company didn't even spring for a direct flight. But wait, it gets better.

Wednesday morning (again at 6AM) I fly down to San Jose to go see my client. Later that afternoon I fly back to Seattle. I actually get to stay in Seattle all day Thursday with no flights anywhere else. On Friday I fly home... on the redeye. But wait, it gets better.

The redeye isn't a direct flight, either. Yeah, I know. I connect at Dulles. Funny thing is, if I had a longer layover my mom could meet me for breakfast on Saturday morning at the airport before I fly back to JFK.

6 flights in a 4 day period. One redeye. One pissed off Melissa. To make it worse, the whole time I'm out there I have to put on this happy face like everything's fine and I love my job and I'm the chipper, positive, little cheerleader they need me to be. They're looking to me to infuse this group of people with energy and enthusiasm. Unfortunately for them, they've missed their window. Their cheerleader isn't even watching the game anymore. The only thing she's concerned with is when it's going to end.

I'm off to Etsy Labs for a bit to exercise my creative parts and cleanse my soul of this very corporate day. Perhaps Julie will be there again. She's great. Crafty people tend to rule.

Taken out the window on a road trip with my family in the mountains of Virginia. It's been a great getaway. I'm a lucky girl.

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New, frosty things

*composed after having a beer at a ski lodge with Matthew and my family*

Have you ever opened someone's eyes to something they'd never seen before... even when you had no idea you were doing it? As we sat in the lodge tonight listening to a mediocre cover band and drinking a beer I looked out the windows and took in the sight of the snow makers blowing their frosty mist over everything outside. I looked back and saw Matthew memorized, looking out the same windows. I had seen snow making machines operating at full speed hundreds of times in my life, but for Matthew it was totally new and he was loving it. We took him on a short tour and showed him some runs, the tube slope, the pro shop. He kept remarking on the altitude, the clean feeling in the air, the crispy cold, the beauty of the snow. It was heartwarming to watch him become enchanted with surroundings that I have loved since as far back as I can remember. There is something magical for me about skiing, about being up in the mountains with the snow swirling around me and the runs laid out before me that makes me tingle a little all over. It's like I fall in love with nature all over again every time I'm up that high. To see Matthew have that same feeling was great. I can't wait to slap some skis on his feet and shove him down the slope sometime soon.

From a seed...

That's where I thought babies came from. I thought the images on the box my Cabbage Patch Kid came in told the whole story. Obviously, babies sprouted in a field of cabbages. Duh, that's what the picture on the box said. Being a smart kid I knew that if there was a baby patch, then there were other components of that scheme. It meant there was a baby farmer and she planted the seeds (Yes, even as a small child the default gender I assigned to professions or fictional people was female. It never occurred to me to assume doctors or farmers or whoever were men. Years later I realized that was a pretty cool mindset to have as a tot.).

Now this baby farmer had to be a hard worker. I knew there were lots of babies sprouting all the time because I knew about the globe and how those different colored blotches were different countries. I even thought those countries had their own version of me. My logic told me that if there was another country on the other side of the world then it must have been the opposite of the one I knew, so there would be another me but she was my opposite. Anyway, those countries all had their own babies, and since there were lots of colored blotches that's a staggering number of babies. I figured in order to make it work efficiently the baby patch was centralized. The baby farmer would give the newly sprouted ones to the storks who would deliver them. At this point I thought they used a transportation system similar to Santa's - you know, all over the place at the same time, that sort of thing. Important note: expectant mothers had big bellies so the storks would be able to see them from the air and know where to drop their deliveries. Total common sense.

The baby farmer was kind of a hero in my eyes because she had this super important job and without her none of us would be around, left to rot in the patch. I wondered a lot about why we never heard anything about her, but we heard about the Tooth Fairy and Santa and that lot all the time. Baby farmer got a raw deal.

When I found out there was no baby farmer and the idea that babies sprouted from seeds was just fantasy I was floored. It really rocked my world because I lost a hero. No baby farmer? Are you kidding me? I had worked out such an elaborate system of how it all worked that finding out it was all in my head was astounding. That's when I started to understand what imagination was. Without a personal hero I had to find someone else to look up to.

Keep in mind I was maybe 6 when all this was going on. I decided my mom would be my new hero. It's been that way ever since. Many of my friends have contentious relationships with their parents and I'm not saying it's always been smooth sailing for us (I was a teenager at some point and I still can't believe she didn't kill me), but we've worked through the junk and we're close. I love my mom. She's a really cool person and I'm lucky to have her. I learned a lot from her as a kid and I still see new things about her as we get older that open my eyes to how dynamic she is. We're going to see my family this weekend and I'm looking forward to seeing my mom the most.

She's way better than the baby farmer. No offense, Sally.

Look! Down there! It's me... with no make up, wearing a bathrobe.

Yeah, sorry about that. Not feeling so physically great the past couple of days has led me to work in my PJs. Oh, and not take a shower. And, erm, I still haven't brushed my teeth. I'm disgusting. Anyway, I wanted to try out this new service I'm using to mobile blog and decided that you guys are sturdy and hardy enough to handle seeing such a disturbing sight.

Click the orange speaker icon above the picture and you'll hear me talking. Prety cool little system.

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Rumbly rumbly in my tumbly

Been sick since yesterday afternoon. The guts are not cooperating with me. I was in and out of the bathroom for hours last evening and then again overnight. Cramping, sharp pains, all the nasty feelings that go along with intestinal distress are working hard to ruin my day. It's my IBS acting up. For months it's been fine. Not one episode in the last 6 months. It's the longest period of wellness I've had in the past 5 years. Until yesterday, that is.

It's stress induced, and with all this worry about my job and my dissatisfaction with my professional situation my digestive system has had enough and is now staging a protest. This is my signal to calm down, to relax, to only do what I can do and not worry about the rest.

So why is it so much easier said than done? Why can't I just let stuff go? I don't want to be worried about things that don't mean anything in the grand scheme of things, and yet I am. I worry and stress out to the point of physical harm to myself. You'd think I'd learn how to control this. I thought I had. The last 6 months had been so good. Now I feel like I've let myself down.

Ah, technology...

After all the frustration with my computer(s) and the networks I need to use for work we finally figured out what the problem is today. It only took 2 weeks. Sheesh. Even though IT had shipped me 2 replacement laptops and troubleshooted each one it turns out that the computers had nothing to do with the problems I was experiencing. I use a peripheral piece of equipment to hook the laptop up to a regular monitor, keyboard, and mouse - that piece of equipment is corrupted and is causing all the issues.

So, all this stress and all the time lost when I wasn't able to get any work done was thanks to a small piece of plastic with a few USB hubs in it. It's an easy problem to fix, but the problem of catching up on 2 weeks of work isn't so easily remedied. Grrr.

525,600 minutes

How do you measure a year?

Rent is closing. This show was so important to me as a teenager and a young 20-something. The story in the musical and the story behind it are really great and tragic and wonderful. I'll miss having this in our city. The city isn't even recognizable as the one in the show anymore. New York has changed, issues have changes, attitudes have changed, but Rent still has value. Love still prevails, people still get sick and die, AIDS is still a problem, lessons are learned everyday.

It debuted off-Broadway in '92, opened on Broadway in '96 and has been going ever since. But soon there will be no more shows. Hopefully there will be a revival in 10 years or so and I can get my fix again. I've seen it 9x. I listen to the soundtrack - both the Broadway recording and the movie recording. I'm a Renthead, proud and true.

Thanks, Jonathan Larson. We haven't forgotten what you did. Your work lives on, even though you didn't get the change to.

Sometimes big girls do cry...

I'm the first one to admit that I cry at the drop of a hat. I cry when I'm happy, sad, excited, depressed, tired, wide awake - you get the picture. I'm a tear factory. Hallmark commercials and sappy movies slay me. That said, I do not cry at work. I'm a professional.

Until today. This is the 5th day of extreme technological issues. Those issues add up to a huge mess that makes it impossible for me to get anything done. My projects are all at a stand-still. I thought things were finally fixed this afternoon but then something else broke. I called my boss and just lost it. I could feel my face getting hot and my eyes getting wet and then the crying started. I explained that nothing is getting done and the client is angry and I'm having a very hard time. She understood everything, told me that none of it is my fault, so I shouldn't feel guilty about it. She said she knows I'm doing everything I can do at the moment and that the client is going to have to understand that sometimes bad things happen that are outside of our control. Even as I type this I'm uncomfortable with the idea that I might not be able to deliver as I should. Why the hell do I get so worked up over this crap? It's not like I'm saving lives! I'm not working on anything earth-shattering, yet I still stress out like crazy. This is beyond a strong work ethic, this is a serious problem I have.

It's too much. It's all too much. I hope the timing is right very soon that I can leave this corporate hell and reduce this ridiculous stress level. If I'm going to stress out about something it should damn well be something I'm doing for me, right? I'd much rather be stressed about my own business and my own deadlines instead of always for someone else. At least this crybaby knows her limits.

P.S. I did go to Etsy Labs last night and it was awesome. It was a real eye-opener.

Food for the crafty soul

If you're a fan of handmade stuff and you haven't checked out Etsy yet, stop reading this and hop on over there. This post will still be here when you get back.

For those of you already familiar with the wonders of Etsy, you might also know they're headquartered in good ol' Brooklyn only a mile and a half from my apartment. I'm heading over tonight for Open Craft Monday. I'm actually getting ready to head out now. My work networks were once again totally screwed... which meant another day with NO work done. My projects are mounting. My emails are through the roof. And I can't get to any of it. Nice. I have all this guilt for being so behind, but none of it is my fault. Why the guilt? I'm a sucker. This is why I need to get out. I need to learn not to take responsibility for everything that happens. Most of it is completely out of my control. No need feeling guilty about something I didn't cause.

I'm off to Etsy Labs to soothe my creative soul and work out some of this nervous energy that's been making me queasy all day.






I might make some more owls.

In the immortal words of Tim Gunn...

I've decided to "make it work".

Apparently, the universal theme to this week was realization. It came in waves, some strong and big, others so small they sneaked up on me when I wasn't paying close attention. I realized:

• I can't stomach doing a meaningless job for much longer.
• In order to feel fulfilled I need to make a difference somehow, whether it's with my job or as a volunteer.
• Dogs rule, even the ones who don't like anyone very much.
• I make a mean eggplant parmigiana.
• Other people have much more faith in me than I do.
• I'm going to take a class this Winter/Spring that is going to give me much needed confidence in my technical sewing skill.

We went to dinner at our favorite little French place on Friday night for dinner and had a pretty heavy conversation about my blog entry theme that afternoon. Matthew is of the opinion that everyone who has ever made any difference to anyone has, at one point, gone through an existential crisis. He insists this is normal and that it's OK that I feel useless. In his eyes it's a critical step to greatness. He believes I can do anything I put my mind to. He believes this wholeheartedly, with no doubt, with unending confidence. I sure wish I did.

After dinner one of the owners of the bistro sat down with us for a glass of wine and we had a chat about plans and what it means to be hungry for more. She started out in TV network sales. She worked at a major network for 20 years and was then asked to "retire early" because the corporation could get a younger person to do her job for less money. She saw that as an opportunity to pursue something that moved her. She took her love of backyard gardening and decided on some classes in landscape design at the botanical garden. That turned into an apprenticeship with a very successful landscape architecture firm... 10 years later she was on the cover of Architectural Digest and she decided it was time to move on. Now she owns a fabulous resto with her husband. She looked me right in the eye and asked me what I wanted. After I answered her she said most people just know they don't want to do what they're doing... they're not too sure about the next step. She insisted I'm ahead of the curve when it comes to knowing where to go from here.

She & Matthew are on the same page on this one. It was great to have my partner in life tell me he has faith in me, but he's a little too close to the source to be fully trusted, you know? He loves me and he believes in whatever I do. But when our new friend told me to go for it, that made an impact. It gave credence to what Matthew had been telling me. Now I feel like I have the loose framework of a plan. I feel a little more solid and pointed in the right direction. Now I just need to muster up the fortitude to make it through the next 3 months until the wedding and I'll be able to get to step 2.

Random: what the hell is the deal with all the advertising campaigns recently featuring models who slouch? When did the "I'm worthless" look become cool? Shit, women. Stand up straight. Sheesh. And designers? Stop selling your clothes with ads that make young girls think they're fat and have too strict posture.

Success!

Duke is still an only child/dog. Matthew and I went to the shelter this morning to photograph the dogs and we managed to come home without a sibling for the Dukester.

There were about 10 people who were there volunteering to walk the dogs. It was great to see such a turnout. All those people were there just to give those pooches some human contact and some exercise. The people were all super cool and lots were dog walking regulars. Pretty fantastic. There is a dog park not too far away, so some of the dogs get to go there and others get nice long walks around the neighborhood. There were about 10 dogs who needed their photos taken and high energy shelter dogs are not too keen about portrait sitting, so you can imagine it was a lengthy process. While we waited for the last 2 who needed photos to come back I walked 3 dogs.

A 10 year old chihuahua named Mr. Ramirez broke my heart. I'd never walked a dog that small before, so it was strange to hold a leash that felt like it wasn't attached to anything. Duke is hefty and you know you're attached to a beast when you walk him. Mr. Ramirez is so tiny that I couldn't even feel him fluttering about next to me. He's old, he's blind in one eye, he shakes a lot, he doesn't like other dogs because he lived at the city shelter for as long as he could before coming to BARC and he picks fights. If he were a human he'd be the old guy on the porch yelling at the kids to get off his lawn. He's not cute, he's not nice, he's not cuddly. But you know what? Mr. Ramirez broke my heart. Who in the world is going to adopt an old, tiny dog with a bad attitude, a slight neurological issue, and one eyed blindness? I hope someone does. If he wouldn't antagonize Duke all damn day I would have taken him home this morning. Te amo, Sr. Ramirez.

Friday was, well, weird.

As I said to the woman who served us lunch today, "Today is a strange day. The morning was a bit like an angry teenager, but I have a feeling the day is maturing into something a lot more likable." Said morning was filled with technological issues with my work computer, which is a big problem since I'm on it all day and it's the only equipment that allows me to do my job.*

The Rover and I had lunch, which was a lovely break from the tech insanity. He's awesome and we went to a cool place. We both had burgers and - get this - they give you a half pint draft beer with every burger for free. Yeah! Old Speckled Hen was a nice accompaniment to the meal. Plus, at only a half pint it's the perfect lunch sized beer. I can't remember the last time I had a beer with lunch, but it was great. Have you ever done that? Had beer or wine or something when you have to go back to work afterward? I had hoped that by the time I got back home the tech issues would be cleared up and I could get on with my servitude work.

Uh, nope. No work done today. None. Not a bit. Couldn't access anything because Corporate IT Dude had taken remote control of my machine to run some diagnostics and such. It's very strange to see your computer being used when you're not the one controlling it. It's a little like what I imagine will happen when the robots come to take over the world. As of 5:41, no progress. Computer is screwed. Need a new one. I've been saying the same thing since mid-December, but now I think there might be some movement on that front since Super Nice Corporate IT Dude pushed for it with his higher-ups after banging his head against the wall for 6 hours today trying to fix it. Ridiculous.

*I had a realization. I realize that I feel bizarre and unsettled about having my work be totally virtual. Meaning, I use a computer for everything - even phone calls - and that makes me feel disconnected from the world. I email, I use online systems, I don't see another person all day, I don't write anything down... ever. I have no product to show for my work. I am in project management and client relations, this means I am a name/email/face that deals with things, but who doesn't actually produce anything. I have no output for all of my input. It's so shocking to me because I work really hard! This is what I can't wrap my brain around. I work my ass off and then at the end of the day I shut down my computer and it's like I did nothing. Not a damn thing. What do I have to show for all my efforts? ... ... ...?

I got to thinking about this on the walk home after lunch. The Rover is an actor. A very good actor, actually. He has something to show for his work. He's an artist. People watch his performances and see what he does. It started to dawn on me that I think my work is meaningless. It does nothing. It changes nothing. It affects no one. This is not entirely true because my work actually affects millions of customers around the world, it really does, but I don't think helping millions of people around the world to be able to use various graphic art programs makes a gnat fart of difference. Does it? Does it really matter that some guy in Japan can use Photoshop in his own language? Sure, but only to him and to the company who sells it to him and the CEO's kids' trust funds. I guess I believe my work is insignificant. It's not getting me anywhere. It doesn't help anyone. It doesn't fulfill me. It doesn't feed anyone who is hungry. It doesn't put a roof over any homeless person's head. It doesn't teach a child. It doesn't move people artistically. It just... makes money for a corporation.

This feels bad. This feels like I really am nothing more than the title of my blog. I am a spoke. Just a spoke. Something has to change. I need to do something that's good. I need to find a livelihood that doesn't make me feel... well, nothing. This job, and every one before it, makes me feel nothing. I want to feel good about my work. I know this is some existential crisis and I'm lucky to be in the position to have it - I have a job, and that's great. It means I earn a paycheck that I use to pay rent and feed Duke and pay for my wedding and take The Rover to lunch. BUT, can't I find a way to get a paycheck and make a difference? Is that too idealistic? Is it too late, at 30, to change gears and go in a completely new direction? What direction would that even be? I have 3 years of college, no degree, 8 years of project management experience. What does that equal? It equals corporate nothingness.

I'm feeling a little useless today. Not sure how to fix it. Something has to change.

TITLE REMOVED BECAUSE SICKASS PERVERTS KEEP SEARCHING FOR DISGUSTING THINGS AND FINDING MY BLOG

Only a handful of times in my adult life have I actively wished I could have a different body type. I'm not skinny, I'm not fat, I'm pleasantly in between. I am more or less satisfied with my physical form. It serves me well - this body has a decent amount of strength and it's even kinda nice to look at now and then.

However, I have an irrational desire to inhabit Ellen Page's body and claim it as my own. It's weird. She pretty much looks like a 12 year old boy with [REDACTED BECAUSE OF DISGUSTING PERVERTS], but somehow I think she's the cutest thing in the world. WTF? She certainly doesn't fit my typical top slated female body type (I've said consistently that I think Monica Belluci is the most beautiful woman around), and she's not the kind of girl I'd notice on the street for being particularly attractive. In fact, if I saw her in person I'd probably think she was 13 years old and could benefit from the caloric value of a cheeseburger. As I like to say, "Someone get that girl a sandwich."

But there's just something about Ellen, in particular, that has endeared her to me in such a way. Juno is a great movie and her performance is amazing. Plus, we saw her on Letterman last week and she was adorable and smart and funny and you could tell Dave really dug her, too. She wore this gorgeous dress with a really smart bow on the front - a bow! the girl can pull off bows w/o hearkening back to the 80s or making me sick - and generally looked composed and totally together. She looked a little uncomfortable in heels, which was fantastic. Also, David Carr of the NY Times interviewed her and said she was "nice and normal". You don't often hear that about up and coming actors.

I just love her. Here, watch her. Love her, too. You will. She's fab. (almost as fab as Dave's strike beard)

And then this happens...

Sometimes my faith in humanity is bolstered by something seemingly insignificant - the smile from a stranger, the kind gesture (holding a door, helping someone pick up their spilled handbag contents, etc.). I feel reassured that we're going down the right path as people and we're doing right by the planet and all the beings we share it with. Despite the war, the hunger, the crime we inflict upon each other on a daily basis, I have hope. But then something terrible happens and I question our entire species and wonder how there can be those among us who are beasts with no regard for life.

My recent posts have been very dog-centric. Unintentional, though it may be.

Yesterday we New Yorkers were alerted to a disturbing discovery up in Yonkers. 2 dogs were found by a gas station's cleaning lady. She opened the lid of the dumpster to throw trash in and, to her horror, found 2 dogs. One looking up at her, just staring, unable to move. The other, dead, frozen stiff, practically on top of the living one. These pups were pitbulls, they had been used either as bait for other dogs who had already been tortured into being fighters, or used as fighters themselves. (this is a photo of them, although you cannot fully see the poor, blonde, dead one)

Dog fighting is a serious crime, it's a felony in every state except Wyoming and Idaho (hellooooo? Get your acts together, WY & ID!), and punishable by 4 yrs in prison and a $25,000 fine in NY. How anyone could take an innocent animal and torture it until it becomes vicious is beyond me. The true vicious beasts are the "humans" who perpetuate this type of backwoods, ghetto, lowbrow, criminal, and depraved "entertainment". There are people who will tell you that certain breeds are innately nasty and mean and are meant to fight. Those people are wrong. No domestic canine is born with bloodlust. Some breeds have more natural aggression, but even those breeds are not born killers.

I am the proud caretaker of what some would consider a vicious breed dog. Duke is a Brazilian Mastiff - a fila brasileiro. Some people use these dogs as guard dogs, to intimidate strangers and protect their homes. In fact, in the UK you are prohibited from owning a fila unless you obtain the court's permission because they are classified as "fighting dogs". Hmm... I wonder how they got that reputation? I can assure you it's from irresponsible and callous humans who, for centuries, have trained dogs like Duke to be killers and fighters.

Ours, however, is nothing but sweet and, ironically, the only time he has ever shown aggression toward a dog or human is when some sick minded guy in our neighborhood jerked the chain (thick chain, not leash - evidence of "toughening up" a dog to make them stronger and meaner than their natural disposition) attached to his pitbull's neck and told Matthew they should see if the dogs would fight each other. Duke didn't take kindly to either the guy or his obviously aggressive dog. He lunged and Matthew crossed the street. Isn't it interesting that the only aggression to come out of my dog was provoked by someone wanting to dogfight? Interesting and telling, I'd say.

What is wrong with some people? Why are some people insistent on violence as a means to make themselves feel more powerful? Are people really that shallow, that immature, that emotionally devastated that they see nothing wrong with beating animals into submission and then throwing them into a ring to see which one can kill the other first? We wage war as nations. We commit crimes as individuals.

Saturday morning Matthew and I are going to a local animal shelter to photograph the new rescued dogs they have available for adoption. The photos will go up on the shelter's website in the hopes that someone will see them and want to make them part of their family. We're going to try not to bring home a brother for Duke. I'll let you know how it goes.

Be the change you want to see in the world. Please.

Tuesday ramblings

I needed a little pick-me-up today, so I started looking through photos. This one made me smile the biggest. Duke has a girlfriend. Her name is Shawmut and she's got pedigree. Fancy shmancy. He scored himself a real lady. They both have scary zombie eyes in this photo, but rest assured, in real life they're not ocularly challenged. Whenever she comes over Duke chases her around the apartment and she "hides" from him under chairs, just to jump out at him when he gets close. It's really the sweetest thing in the world.


This was the first runner-up in the smile contest. Matthew thought it would be hilarious if Duke wore my beloved pashmina around the house. I am never without this thing. Winter time? Constantly around my neck. Summer time? In my bag in case the air conditioning is too cold. It's like my adult security blanket. Funny enough, Duke happily sat there while he got wrapped up and then wore it around for about 15 minutes. Matthew called him "Mother Dukeresa". I almost peed from laughing.


The is the second runner-up photo. These are little owls I've been making recently. I decided that wisdom is something to be on the lookout for in 2008. Owls being the wise symbols that they are, I wanted to create a flock of them to keep me company in the apartment. There were many more, but they've been distributed to family and friends in the last few days. I'll add to the flock again soon. Hoot, hoot!

Big Apple... big, expensive apple

I just stumbled upon a very telling and disturbing article. I live in New York. Brooklyn, to be precise. I love it here. I've never felt more at home in a place ever in my life, and I've lived in many places. I know I don't want to leave, ever.

I rent. I also know that my fiance and I cannot afford to buy real estate here right now... and probably not in the immediate future, either. We have decent jobs. We earn salaries that lots of people outside of New York would envy. For all intents and purposes we make a good living. I know we make more than his parents and we're probably not all that far behind my folks. The scary part is that we pay far more taxes, have a far higher cost of living, share $50k of college loan debt, and aren't even close to the kind of financial stability our parents had at our age.

The article talks about households who make between $80,000 - $150,000 a year being the hardest hit in terms of being able to get ahead financially due to rent/mortgage and tax brackets. Now, I realize that compared to many other families we are lucky as all hell that we have a lovely roof over our heads and we live comfortably. We don't take any of that for granted. But, we fall into the categories discussed in this article and it seems like an even more daunting task to be able to upgrade to something more than a one bedroom apartment unless one of us magically wins the lottery that we don't even play. We don't want to wait until the real estate market seems less frightening to have kids (we're both 30 and we want to have babies sooner rather than later), but the question of how to add another person into a space meant for two is one we're probably going to have to tackle at some point.

Two parts of the article resonated with me most:

"Hardest hit are earners and families making $80,000 to $150,000 a year, including blue-collar workers and professionals such as teachers and midlevel managers."

and

"It's becoming extraordinarily difficult to live in this city as an ordinary person," Mr. Fishman says. "[It used to be] you could have a decent life and put your kids through college. We're beginning to see the end of that."

The end of that? *le sigh* (thanks, Martine) I feel defeated and deflated. Funny how I just posted about affordable dog beds, right? 10 years ago if you would have told me I'd be part of a household making between $80k - $150k/yr I'd have been thrilled. If you would have gone on to tell me I'd still be renting, that my fiance and I were trying desperately to come up with the cash for a wedding that's 3 months away, and that we daydream of being able to buy a place of our own (so we don't have to eventually come up with some crazy living room/nursery scheme when SmallFry one day comes into our lives) with no real hope of that happening I'd have thought you were telling tall tales.

Has anyone conquered the urban real estate market and lived to tell about it?

Snore, Fart, Lick

Calling all dog people - know of any good dog beds that don't cost a small fortune? We want to get a bed for Duke because we'd like to reclaim what's left of our pathetic love seat for the humans in the house. We found a really nice one online with a zip-off cover, non-skid bottom and all that jazz... but in Duke's size it costs $175 with shipping. Ouch. Duke's a big boy (almost 100lbs) and he needs a bed that can support his weight without becoming flat as a pancake in less than a week.

We're on the hunt. If you know of any good leads please let me know.

First Saturday

Just got back from Brooklyn Museum First Saturday where we waltzed. Yep, you read that right - the regular dance party portion of the monthly event was themed this month... the waltz! It was awesome. Live musicians, instructors to show you how to do the dance properly, then a couple hours of non-stop waltzing. We kept up for about 20 minutes and then decided it was time to go home and have dinner, but it was very cool. The waltz isn't one of those dances I get to see very often, so to behold hundreds of people of all ages, races, shapes, and sizes out on the dance floor waltzing around spinning gracefully (and sometimes not so gracefully) was a sight to see.

Plus, a stranger asked me to dance, which is always flattering no matter how you slice it. He was a woefully bad waltzer and his entire premise of requesting a dance was that he could teach me how to do it. So, basically it was just a front to get to dance with chicks, but I gotta hand it to him for being ballsy. At least he has that going for him. Luckily, after a few moments my friend twirled her way over to me, grabbed my hand, pulled me back to our little group and spun me around until he was gone.

Another day at the zoo... with Donkeys and Elephants

This is the most sickening thing I've seen so far in this presidential election frenzy. As a New Yorker, I can tell you this city does not love Rudy. We do not even like him. We can't stomach the man. The image portrayed in the media is that NYC adores him - couldn't be farther from the truth. He has the nerve to stand on a platform of protection for Americans? Puhlease. He cleaned up Times Square and midtown, sure. But he also priced a lot of people out of their homes in Manhattan and sent working class people fleeing for the outer boroughs in droves.

How dare he use 9/11 for his personal gain. No one outside this city would know his name if all those people weren't murdered. Now he wants you to believe he was a hero. He was in the most terrible right spot at the most terrible right time. That wasn't heroism, that was the luck of the draw.



Barack Hussein Obama... now there's a man I'll stand behind. Thanks a million, Iowa!

*bump* Ouch!

I hit a speedbump today. I realized that I cannot keep up this ridiculous work from home situation I've got going on. No way. I'm miserable. I don't work well in isolation. I really need human interaction and the flexibility I thought I'd be able to squeeze out of this arrangement is non existent.

I thought I'd be able to take my computer to the coffee shop when I needed a break, meet up with friends for lunch, get some sewing done because I wouldn't be working during the time I'd have spent commuting. Turns out, I don't leave the house, I have no time to sew, I start working earlier and I end later every night. I'm tied to my computer and silly headset thing for the VOIP service we use instead of land line phones. Since I don't have the commute I have no buffer between my morning routine/work and then work/dinner time. It used to be that I'd read a magazine or book on the train, listen to my beloved podcasts, chill out and unwind after a draining day at the office. I don't have that now, which means that I stop working when I hear Matthew's key in the lock, guiltily jump into the kitchen to start dinner while trying to hide the fact that I've been working right up until the moment he walks in the door, and I don't have time to come down from the hectic work mode I've been in all day.

I have so many friends who say things like, "I'm so jealous you get to work from home!" or, "You hate it? Oh my god, I'd love it! You're crazy." I understand those kinds of statements, but this is just not me. I'm not a solitary person. I need more during the day than Duke's snores and farts to break up the monotony.

The main problem is that I'm not working for myself... but I'm working from my apartment. I still have the same 8-7 schedule I had before, it's just that I'm tied to my living room. I need to find out how to make this work for me or I have to come up with another game plan. I'm headed to Seattle in a couple weeks to meet the people at the office I now report to, so hopefully I'll get some insight and be able to craft some sort of strategy to cope.

If not, I'll have to call Morpheus for an exit.

Lighter note: Crazy man Matthew on New Year's Eve. Love his tie.

15 minutes... or milliseconds

Before the holidays I went to the amazingly cool Bust Holiday Craftacular. I shopped, I bought, I was inspired, I met Amy Sedaris (truth)... and I bumped into my favorite video posdcasters. Rob and Corrinne are the cutest and they make fun stuff on their DIY fashion podcast. I dig them. They thought it was cool that I watched their latest podcast on the train on the way to the Craftacular. Rob thought it was surreal to see himself on a stranger's iPod. Anywho, they put me in a subsequent podcast and I posted it so you can see what I look like with no makeup and unwashed hair. (What was I thinking??)



I come in at 1:36 and I'm there for a flash. Megan Nicolay, the way cool t-shirt transformer who I met in Miami (remember this post?) was also there. She comes into the podcast at 2:30. Plus, you get to see cutie cute cute Amy Sedaris. Love her. Sandra, this is partly for you, hon.

BTW, this is the first video I've embedded in a post. It's so 2008 of me.

Day 1

Ah, January. Here you are. We've met before, but you look a bit different this time. A little older, a little wiser. Maybe you've added a few pounds? Mmm hmm. Sounds like someone else I know. January, you're in for a new experience this year. I've got some trips planned, a lot of hard work to get through, and lots of fun to have. I hope you're ready! You should probably buckle up, this might get bumpy.

So, New Year's Eve was great. We had 15 people here for dinner. Thanks to Martine's borrowed table we had enough room for everyone. All the cooking for a day and a half was worth it. Matthew's creme brulee was amazing. He made the custard the night before so all he had to do was caramelize some sugar when it was time for dessert. It was a big hit. Definitely something he's going to be goaded into making again just for the two of us. After dinner we headed to Grand Army Plaza just blocks away to watch the fireworks.

What did you do for New Year's Eve? Was it fun? Ready to get your feet wet in 2008? Resolutions? I'm trying to be a more peaceful person... who weighs a little less, too.