May 25, 2006

Elev-ation Etiquette

Elev-ation or elevator conversation is a form of communication that ranks high on the chit-chat scale.

The social awkwardness of sharing an elevator, large or small, with just one person is a phenomenon I am certain you have experienced. This is particularly needing finesse in an office elevator given the networking nature of most rides.

The other morning I was the victim of zero elev-ation. As the elevator climbed the 22 floors to my cubicle, I was stuck in the elevator with a middle-aged man who fidgeted like a pre-pubescent on a first date. He didn't speak to me and I was weary of him wetting his pants if I started a conversation. I am not implying he was that excited to share my space, but the level of obvious awkwardness he was experiencing at the notion of elev-ation made it uncomfortable to be inhaling the same box of oxygen.

Usually, elevators are packed at rush hours and any elev-ation is downright rude--because it excludes the majority of people in the elevator and it creates unnecessary noise pollution. Also, I don't care what little Johnny did last night at soccer practice. This said, I'm not suggesting one should maintain a code of strict silence on the sacred trip in the magical steel contraption. The right volume and proximity to the person you are conversing with is critical if you wish to be polite and un-intrusive.

Drunken elev-ation is the best, but again be cognizant of the sober people sharing your ride. They didn't choose to be there--they needed to get upstairs/downstairs too. That said, zero patience/sympathy for able-bodied people who ride the elevator up one flighr or even two and complain about who's sharing their space. YOU HAVE LEGS--USE THEM.

May 22, 2006

The Library @ Hudson Hotel

I found myself at The Libaray (a bar) at the Hudson Hotel on Saturday night with my mom, her fiancee, and a slew of christians. Drinking Christians--it is so--well protestants are known for their boozing, right?

It was a glorious hotel...completely unexpected given the less than impressive exterior. Though the white walls glazed in neon green lightening are both futuristic. Nothing prepares you for the rich ivy draped along the cieling or the massive chandlier when you make it up the escalator to the lobby--it should be an alien lab but the warmth of the space dismisses any notions of the future and thrusts you firmly into the past to the 1940s but retro. Plus couches and soft lighting abound.

Untitled

Don't you hate work that is untitled? It's like a fuck you to the person reviewing it...I couldn't be bothered to come up with a hook..take it or leave it...look or don't look. It conveys apathy and a complete lack of dependence on YOUR opinion.

Untitled work is one of my pet peeves. Thus this entry though untitled is aptly titled since I am ranting about the irksome nature of the untitled piece.

May 19, 2006

4 days/week

I'm staying at the German Bank!

When my boss came to me with the flattering proposal of reconsidering my resignation, I was struck with the idea of negotiating.

Since she is no position to offer me a permanent position, I thought I would leverage what little bargaining power I had to acquire a better work-life balance. I asked for one personal day every week for the rest of my temporary days.

She considered the offer and has granted me free Fridays which is just infinitely better than casual fridays--which we don't even have. Not yet in stone, but my impression is that all systems are go, beginning June.

Somewhere between August '06 and March '07, they will be hiring permanent employees at which time I will reconsider the lifestyle I will be accustomed to for a significant raise and a blackberry. Not a bad deal at all for a grasshopper in banking.

May 18, 2006

Decision Time

I have yet to respond to my boss...should I renege on my resignation?

I think I will counter-offer with a firm maybe. If I can work 4 days a week, I'll stay on. She'll never agree to that...so it's the kind of ultimatum that makes a decision you are too craven to consider, let alone execute.

Time is ticking--resolution COB today!

I'm resistible

What every woman wants is to be irresistible. Now that problem with this is that most women find the men who find them irresistible rather repulsive or repugnant--not necessarily just in the aesthetics but often in the practice of least resistance.

I'm entirely fortunate in that my exes find me utterly resistible.

Damn them. And damn me for not resisting them with any fervor. Damn. Damn. Damn it all.

May 17, 2006

I smelled his sweater....

Today, one of my vendors (an attractive late 20's/early 30's chap) called my cell phone to beg me to rescue his black sweater from the training room in which he had absentmindedly left it.


I hastened to oblige. When I got there, I was overcome by the urge to pluck the sweater off the chair and bring it close my face--taking a deep whiff of the man who had worn it all day. I don't have a crush on the guy, but it's just been so long since I smelled a man's sweater. Also, he's a great guy--I should have a crush on him. He helped me lug heavy books (for another class) back to my desk--way out of his way.

It's the cliche thing that girlfriends really do--at least this girlfriend does: smell the sweater her guy left behind. There must be some primitive reasoning but the best I can do on speculation is the pheromone-high rich in olfaction.

Puppy x 2

I want another dog.

Isn't that nuts? 4 months into Luckey, I'm ready for another puppy (well I'd get a fixed one who is already house-broken, but I'm ready for another).

Talk about crazy...

Blind Leading the Blind

Over the weekend, I saw a blind couple holding hands and walking down E. 14th St. towards 3rd Ave. It was the sweetest, saddest, most moving thing I saw that day.

Talk about compatible. Talk about blind faith.

Make a Run for It

I quit my job today.

After a meeting in which I was treated like a child and given a "final warning" for shoddy attendance. I walked out--typed up a letter of resignation--printed it in triplicate and QUIT.

My boss called me in and pretty much talked me out of it. She painted mirages of permanent employee status (I'm a consultant now--no paid vaca) and a signing bonus with a raise attached (not to mention German Bank-paid dental coverage).

Now, I have tonight to "sleep on it" and give her my final answer. Can one renege on a resignation? I mean...it's in writing!

Life is short--Love hard!

My near death accident with an oncoming automobile reminded me of the last words I had read (on my daily desk calendar): Life is short--Love hard!

I haven't quite forgiven myself for loving. Boy, did I love hard.
Sadly, my ex hardly loved me. But that aside--I have made my advance to mend fences so I can move on to love hard again. All this time I've been hardly loved and in the last year been hardly loving or lovable.

This entry is dedicated to all the boys that loved me--hard.
Thank you. It means more to me than words on a screen can convey...just know that in my way I loved you as hard as I could--at that time in my life.

May 12, 2006

Oasis in Midtown

A colleague from work had a going away cocktail event last night at the W. The one with Whiskey Blue on 49th and Lex. Oasis is the lobby bar which presumes nothing but exudes everything--unlike Whiskey Blue which presumes everything and exudes nothing worthwhile.

I had arranged a date at Whiskey Blue to conveniently duck out of the work thing to the date thing and then met Jaylin for the move at E-Walk--across town. I had forgotten how much I loathe the after-work banker crew with requisite salmon shirts or pink, spotty ties with crisp white ones. It's not the dress code that bugs me--Lord knows suits are the only acceptable uniform on a man who hopes to be mine--it's the sheer volume of sameness. Gosh, conformity is disconcerting.

He was a nice enough guy--my date, that is--but the elusive spark continues to elude me. He was sufficiently dazzled by me but I can't say I could mirror the feeling. Another one-date wonder...I AM SICK OF FIRST DATES!

MI-3

As I grow older I'm beginning to wonder if I've lost my lust for action.

Action MOVIES, I mean. I caught MI-3 with Jaylin last night and was sorely disappointed. He was adequately impressed, which begs the question does he have a lower standard or was it a bad movie?

The scenes were choppy at best. It was as if post-production was determined to cut out as much dialogue and character development they could to maximize on action air time. I hate unsteady camera movements and shaky Blair Witch-esque taping....ugh, makes me nauseous.

What a let down!

May 11, 2006

Norman Day

Not to be confused with Normandy...

It's Norman's b'day today. He is 25. His list of accomplishments are long but none of them is as significant as the reality of the kind, compassionate, gentle, caring, person of integrity he has always been and continues to be. That's no small task as attorney, folks. An attorney at a pretigious New York City firm, no less. A firm he chose after revoking some high-profile offers, no less. But as I said, it's not about the long list of academic accolades he's had come his way--it's the person within.

Today, I toast Norman...Happy birthday to the best guy a gal can call her friend =)

99 Thomas Street

Tommy, Norman, and I have a home.
A second floor, two-bedroom (convertible three) with two bathrooms at 99 Thomas Street which will happily accommodate a Luckey.
This is going to be Tommy's year--we can FEEL it.

Move in date: June 10th, 2006

Maybe the second half of this year will be better than the first...although it got me reflecting, so far this has been a banner year:
1. Luckey ownership
2. Staying power on the job--six months in, I'm not even LOOKING to move.
3. Moving in with NOT ONE but TWO boys.
4. Knitting aficionado
5. Officially OVER my last relationship and ready for a summer of single girl fun IN THE HAMPTONS!

May 8, 2006

M1-5

In honor of Tommy's big sister's 28th birthday we joined the band of merry-makers at M1-5 at 52 Walker St. Just a block south of Canal. This loft space was huge and relatively quiet for a Saturday. The music was hit or miss, but we had fun building card houses and drinking mango martinis.

I missed meeting "the single, Indian doctor of my dreams" as per Carrie's drunken messages and texts. I had another friend celebrating 28 at 70 Waverly Place but there wasn't enough night for all the celebration at hand. But I've been promised an introduction to said 5'11", non-FOB...we will see. I don't really like the idea of dating a doctor--all that do-gooding reminds me of what a slothful waste I am. Boo!

Shopping Spree

I spent Saturday milling about town with Special K.

We got brunch in Little Italy. The waiters couldn't stop staring at her cleavage to the point where we were both uncomfortable with the attention--but it was funny as hell to watch and not be the object of such fixation. Sorry, K!

We happened upon a street fair whence I purchased a perfectly preserved taxidermy set of butterflies--beautiful! I picked up an owl to add to Tracey's collection and a whimsical bracelet made wholly of die which I hope she will love given her penchant for the extraordinary. I haven't taken off the amber ring or the onyx bracelet I purchased with my grandma instilled bargaining power. Sadly the white pants I bought for my Hamptons debut is a bit too snug and will have to be presented to a lucky recipient shortly. I did get a steal on an attractive, pleated, plaid baby-blue hued, A-line skirt at Urban Outfitters ($4.98)--seriously, a STEAL!

Negative Nancy

Tommy and I have nicknames for one another now.

He is Negative Ned and I am Negative Nancy. We've been steeped in negativity off late, between apartment hunting fruitlessly and going on one lousy first date after another. It seems a lifetime ago that I went on a second date...by this I mean, after a first date my inclination is to NEVER see the person again for as long as I live.

Apparently my low standards are not LOW enough: specificity being the devil.
My short checklist is as follows:
Tall
Skinny
Full head of hair--spiky preferred
Smart as Hades
Beaked nose and crooked teeth=bonus

Literally...that's it! That's ALL I'm looking for--I see these chaps milling about but it seems I'm going to have to steal someone's boyfriend to get it to work out for me.

May 5, 2006

Cinco de Mayo

My favorite non-real holiday given the heavy boozing component. St. Patrick's Day is a close second...

I'm looking forward to an evening on a roof, on a patio, in a garden with every flavor of margarita I can ingest on the rocks with salt and a lime wedge to garnish.

Incidentally, it is the date of birth of one ex-bf (horseface) of Tracey's--proof that being born on a great day will not esnure you are cool.

May 4, 2006

Faux Indian

There has been an emergence of faux Indians off late. Maybe I'm just late catching on--but Trini, West Indie, Guyanese (faux Indians) are everywhere in this city.

I just met one at my client meeting. Indian last name, white first name--West Indian--from NJ lives on the UWS. Do the West Indians live on the West Side and the East Indians (ACTUAL INDIANS) live on the East Side?

Not my type physically--but we may end up dating. He's not tall. We flirted for an hour during our "vendor meeting". He lived in San Fran for the last 8 years. He's from South Jersey, originally--not far from Great Adventure. He went to culinary school and studied acting then film making in college. He loves olives and doesn't find oysters to be an aphrodisiac--total foodie. Doesn't like the fast rides at amusement parks. He's one of three children.

He's offered to take me to happy hour on his expense account any time I need a drink--standing offer. Those are the kind of deals I like...
I'm not calling him, but if he calls me and suggests some boozing--I'm not going to turn it down.

Ulysees

Former president aside, Ulysees is fast becoming my favorite outdoor pub in Manhattan. Located a short block and a half from my office, this quaint drinkery has long, wooden benches on cobble stone topped with large beer advertising umbrellas. Love it.

Carrie and Kurt met up with me for a few Dark & Stormies (gosling rum and ginger beer)--delicious! We marveled at Carrie's new blueberry--you know you mean something officially when they saddle you with a crackberry. The tiny burgers reminiscent of White Castle were far more refined with cute baby cheese atop.

My favorite thing about Ulysees is that it's packed. With Men. Suited, booted Wall Street types. It's a Kenneth Cole ad waiting for one of his famed quotes. The communcal tables and freely flowing drinks make communicating with strangers as easy as a hooker on 42nd St.

Can You Read Me Now?

Let me take a moment to sing the praises of Verizon Wireless.

As you know, I've been in text message purgatory the last 36 hours.
I dragged my phone's carcass to the verizon store on the corner of Water and Wall for a quick fix. I was convinced they would tell me to buy a new phone and offer to input my numbers for a nominal $20. Nothing nominal about that folks--it's a week's worth of caffeine. It's a pair of shoes at Payless. It's enough to support a small child in Gautemala for a month. And as long as I have fingers, I can punch in the digits myself.

To my surprise, the brace face behind the tech support counter merely plucked my phone and promised a fix within the half hour. I hopped to Century 21 to purchase some lime green rainboots with large daises on them lined with velvety pink fuzz.
Upon my return I had a brand new phone! It was my phone with a face lift. I lost all my Luckey pics and all the photos of my friends faces which appear when they phone me...but a small loss for the ability to text again.

TEXT ME!!!!!

May 3, 2006

America: The Land of Toilet Paper

Growing up, my grandmother always said that if the palm of your right hand itched it was a sign that money would unexpectedly land in your lap, while if the palm of your left hand itched it would be stripped from you, tight as you may clutch it.

I always wondered why the left hand got such the shaft. That's the hand used for butt wiping in the motherland...that's right folks, I come from the land sans TP and we use our God given appendage and holy water from the Ganges to clean our behinds. A bidet is a step up from the route we adopt.
That's the true immigrant story. The real reason behind immigration--TP!

Now that back story might help you understand why the left hand is more prone to itching than the right. Does that mean for the most part people lose money? Does that mean people that wipe their asses with the right hand are onto something and therefore inherit/come by/win money for such deviant behavior?

In a society so shackled to custom and rooted in tradition, does it pay to covertly buck the system? Wipe your ass with the wrong hand and get paid for it.

So, my right hand has been itching like mad lately...

What Women Talk About

Last night, Jo bought us tickets to What Women Talk About an hour-long improv show at 85 E. 4th St. It was the finale of their second season.

It was hilarious. Try to catch the podcast.

I'm a groupie!

Tragedy

My mom's fiancee's father passed away over the weekend.

He was old.
I never met him.
He lived in Florida with his wife in a home.

To pay my respects, I took Monday off--bereavement day!
In light of the many responsibilities I would have had to fulfill on Monday, I found it to be a good day to be out of the office with no forewarning. I mean, I called in to inform them of the tragedy.

May he rest in peace.

Text Breakdown

I had not realized how much I rely on text messaging till my phone mysteriously decided not to afford me that feature any more.

Apparently my phone has quit on me. It, having a mind of its own, has decided I no longer deserve, nay need, to send text messages. This makes receiving them extremely frustrating. I want to respond. I'm a respondent!

Gotta hop to the verizon store at lunch in the hopes of ameliorating this situation, but my guess is to no avail. Since I don't have phone insurance (Trace, don't even start with me!) it's a moo point (that's right a MOO! point!).

sigh. Why? Why me? Why my phone? Why text messaging?

May-hem!

What is it about May that leads to mayhem?

There's nothing but drama...

Apartment Drama:
Looking haplessly for an apartment. The brokers on CL claim no fee but upon calling they feign amnesia and insist there is a LOW fee and "Don't worry about it?"
Excuse me! If I have to pay another month's rent in broker fees on top of security and first month's rent--who has that kind of money, without worrying?
Norman that's who! Damn high wage earners--I should have gone to law school.

Corporate Drama:
The office politics is peaking at a staff vs. manager face off. Being a mid-level manager I'm neither here nor there and while I love Switzerland--I don't envy their position in any war. I've finally been embraced by the staff but at what cost to my managerial responsibility and corporate climb. Ah, the age old question to be true to me or true to my career?

Luckey Drama:
Dog's been humping and chomping on every morsel of me in sight. His puppy teeth are sharp and while two of them have fallen, the rest get closer to razors by the day.
I need to get him neutered but WHERE is the time?

School Drama:
This is less drama and more the reality of my procrastinating ways. Final grades are due on Friday, but I haven't turned in the last of my papers which can't be graded if I haven't written them. Yeesh--I can't drag this on for ANOTHER semester. BOO.