It's broken and I don't understand why.
D'Souza's been distant all day. We both woke up on the wrong side of the bed--I slept on his side because I have a tendency to roll to the left so he slept on the inside. I was freelancing at Maxim for the day so I woke and quickly fell into my harried morning routine of brush, shower, dress, and run. He wasn't lazing per se but since he's working at WFC--not on assignment this week--he didn't have an exact arrival time. This wasn't our first morning of race and rush...but it was our least adorable.
He took off shortly after I got home to do his laundry. Then he went off on his own to walk across the brooklyn bridge without giving me fair warning. When he arrived home, he promptly walked past my door into the living room to watch tv completely ignoring my panty-clad rear.
What gives?
April 30, 2007
April 26, 2007
April 12, 2007
Abrupt
Men in my family have done this for decades and I realized yesterday that it drives me absolutely crazy.
The phone call tha tends without "Bye!"
The business of the conversation being complete, D'Souza (sleepy as he was, I will not excuse him) proceeded to hang up the phone as he often does brusquely.
Now, this has long bothered me about him. Bothered me because it is something I have HAD to live with my entire life as a consequence of the older, crankier men in my family practicing this bizarre behavior. For an extremely polite crowd I will never gather how such abruptness is common practice. D'Souza similarly exists in this pattern.
In D'Souza's defense, Tommy frequently accuses me of saying THE LONGEST GOODBYES. Perhaps that is true. Perhaps it is just an average length goodbye for a girl with abandonment issues.
All I know is that in the con column, D'Souza's got abruptness firmly in the top slot--at least alphabetically speaking.
The phone call tha tends without "Bye!"
The business of the conversation being complete, D'Souza (sleepy as he was, I will not excuse him) proceeded to hang up the phone as he often does brusquely.
Now, this has long bothered me about him. Bothered me because it is something I have HAD to live with my entire life as a consequence of the older, crankier men in my family practicing this bizarre behavior. For an extremely polite crowd I will never gather how such abruptness is common practice. D'Souza similarly exists in this pattern.
In D'Souza's defense, Tommy frequently accuses me of saying THE LONGEST GOODBYES. Perhaps that is true. Perhaps it is just an average length goodbye for a girl with abandonment issues.
All I know is that in the con column, D'Souza's got abruptness firmly in the top slot--at least alphabetically speaking.
Umbrella Carcasses
As I walked to work, hasty as usual--tardiness--I couldn't help notice that the pavement was littered with umbrellas whose cheapness and/or usefulness had been deemed unworthy by their former owners.
There were particular stretches of my path that served as umbrella cemeteries!
There were particular stretches of my path that served as umbrella cemeteries!
Tattered Umbrellas
Black Umbrellas
Colorful Umbrellas--hues ranging from pink to navy--
Umbrellas whose underwire had failed them
Umbrellas whose owners had derailed them
Umbrellas worn at the seams.
Corporate logo emblazoned Umbrellas
Chinatown-bought Umbrellas--$5--
Department Store Brand Umbrellas
No matter what they were in their umbrella lives, they all found themselves united--bound together--by their common fate of being discarded today by their owners in the vicinity of one another. Like people--who come from all walks of life--these umbrellas were left lifeless to a shared end.
My trusty black, automatic umbrella served me swimmingly except for a particularly gusty wind which turned it inside out. I didn't give up or surrender it to a final fatalistic reunion with its slaughtered bretheren. My determination to stand by my umbrella, forced me to coax it's shape back to the original dimensions and carry on with my brisk commute.
Black Umbrellas
Colorful Umbrellas--hues ranging from pink to navy--
Umbrellas whose underwire had failed them
Umbrellas whose owners had derailed them
Umbrellas worn at the seams.
Corporate logo emblazoned Umbrellas
Chinatown-bought Umbrellas--$5--
Department Store Brand Umbrellas
No matter what they were in their umbrella lives, they all found themselves united--bound together--by their common fate of being discarded today by their owners in the vicinity of one another. Like people--who come from all walks of life--these umbrellas were left lifeless to a shared end.
My trusty black, automatic umbrella served me swimmingly except for a particularly gusty wind which turned it inside out. I didn't give up or surrender it to a final fatalistic reunion with its slaughtered bretheren. My determination to stand by my umbrella, forced me to coax it's shape back to the original dimensions and carry on with my brisk commute.
April 11, 2007
Free Lunch
Growing up, I frequently heard the adage, "There is no such thing as a free lunch."
In the last five years of temping, consulting, and working at Fortune 100 companies, I've learned that such a statement is just untrue. Frequently, afternoon meetings involve the ordering of lunch. It's a boring sandwich fest for the most part, but there is ALWAYS surplus which makes its way to the pantry or remains in the large conference rooms.
For working bees on a serious budget, such as myself, this constitutes a sumptuous FREE lunch. Invariably, some passerby will make the announcement which must be followed by a mad dash to the area mentioned to scavenge for the best scraps. These are usually turkey sandwiches or wraps. I usually scour the scene for some Snapple or bottled water to round out the lunch time booty. Today, I scored just this.
April 10, 2007
Stolen
Poor D'Souza! His car got stolen as it sat innocently in his driveway in Jersey City late Sunday night/early Monday morning. Who is out stealing cars to commemorate the Risen Christ? Honestly....the outrage.
He wasn't as disgruntled at the loss as the theivery at hand.
April 7, 2007
WFC
The World Financial Center (WFC)stands across the West Side Highway from where the World Trade Center (WTC) towers once stood. WFC has 3 towers--Tower 1 stands apart from the attached Towers 2 and 3. D'Souza's main office is in 2 and my current assignment has me shackled in 3.
Yesterday, we had the unique privilege of walking to work together through the financial district across the West Side Highway into Battery Park City (BPC) to the WFC.
He took me to a delicious non-meaty lunch at SouthWestNY at 1pm--in observance of Good Friday. He also met Taurean and I for a quick coffee break at Starbucks around 4pm. Of course, D'Souza's day was a wrap at that point, so he got to go home...walk the dog and take a nap before meeting me for Liturgy at 6pm.
Bah work!
That's where I am right not, clackety clack clack!
Midnight Mass
It seems that Manhattan for all its conveniences does not offer a midnight vigil for Easter. I scoured the internet to find the latest available vigil at 8pm tonight, but that just doesn't cut it for D'Souza. Devout Catholic that he is, thankfully this vigil is at the appropriately Roman Catholic St. Patrick's Cathedral.
I escorted him to a 6pm Good Friday Liturgy yesterday at St. Paul's Chapel--which wasn't to my liking for the quality of the sermon--his qualm lay more in the lack of Roman in their Catohlic. In fact, I think they are Episcopalian...linked to Trinity Church as they are. Conveniently located across the street from the World Trade Center PATH station with an excellent proximity to the World Financial Center--home of US Xpress and Hoyt (workplace of D'Souza)--where we were both busily at work yesterday.
I escorted him to a 6pm Good Friday Liturgy yesterday at St. Paul's Chapel--which wasn't to my liking for the quality of the sermon--his qualm lay more in the lack of Roman in their Catohlic. In fact, I think they are Episcopalian...linked to Trinity Church as they are. Conveniently located across the street from the World Trade Center PATH station with an excellent proximity to the World Financial Center--home of US Xpress and Hoyt (workplace of D'Souza)--where we were both busily at work yesterday.
April 6, 2007
Good Friday
All believers in Christ, take a moment or mass/service to speculate on just how momentous today really is...Good Friday, indeed.
For the non-believers, drink hard on behalf of us non-imbibers and eat loads of RED meat...
For the non-believers, drink hard on behalf of us non-imbibers and eat loads of RED meat...
April 5, 2007
Apartment of my Dreams
Apartment: XXL Studio or One Bedroom in Manhattan
Location: South of 96th St. on the West Side or 65th St. on the East Side
Space: 525+ sq. feet
Features: Walk in Closet, Eat in Kitchen, Windowed bathroom and kitchen
Amenities: Laundry in the building, dishwasher, microwave, hardwood floors...if a studio an alcove for the bed that can easily be screened off would be clutch.
Would be cool if there was a gym/room with weights included in the rent, but in the grand scheme of the things I want, I care about this the least.
Would be cool if it was less than 5mins. to the subway, but if I can get more space further away I'll take the space.
Elevator preferred but I'll live in a walk-up as long as it's not higher than the 3rd floor.
My neighborhood preferences are as follows:
Gramercy
Murray Hill
Financial District (not Battery Park)
UWS (ideally near Fordham)
Finding all of it for under $2K/month without paying ANY brokers' fees:
A Dream Come True!
Location: South of 96th St. on the West Side or 65th St. on the East Side
Space: 525+ sq. feet
Features: Walk in Closet, Eat in Kitchen, Windowed bathroom and kitchen
Amenities: Laundry in the building, dishwasher, microwave, hardwood floors...if a studio an alcove for the bed that can easily be screened off would be clutch.
Would be cool if there was a gym/room with weights included in the rent, but in the grand scheme of the things I want, I care about this the least.
Would be cool if it was less than 5mins. to the subway, but if I can get more space further away I'll take the space.
Elevator preferred but I'll live in a walk-up as long as it's not higher than the 3rd floor.
My neighborhood preferences are as follows:
Gramercy
Murray Hill
Financial District (not Battery Park)
UWS (ideally near Fordham)
Finding all of it for under $2K/month without paying ANY brokers' fees:
A Dream Come True!
Eulogy for Chiara
One of the greatest virtues we can attain in our lifetime is knowing how to live. Knowing how to make the whole room dance at just the right moment, knowing how to tell a captivating story, knowing that everyone should take out time to learn the art of bongo drumming at some point in their life. It is the ability to seek joy and bring it to those we meet every single day that allows us to really know how to live. The will to share your happiness with people around you—whether they are strangers, friends, foreigners, or just passersby—is a human ability we were all born with, yet it is so rare that you see someone embody this value as much as Chiara did.
How many people here can tell a story about meeting Chiara for the first time, going on with your day, week, or month, and then running into a girl who is suddenly hugging you and saying, “hey, you’re Claire McTaggart from Connecticut, I’m Chiara, we met the other day.”
This love of life and all the people in it is what has always made Chiara absolutely unforgettable. While most of us settle into what is comfortable and most familiar, Chiara set out to explore all she could that was unseen, friend any whose path she crossed, and ingrain herself into our memories as that really friendly girl with the wild curly hair.
It is Chiara’s style of living and her hunger to embrace everything outside her comfort zone that we should take with us. We should think about that eccentric Italian Jewish girl from Danville, Kentucky, and remember her emails from Montpellier France, the stories from deer camp in Marquette Michigan, the pictures of Chiara tearing up the dance floor in downtown Brooklyn and the great hat she bought for the Kentucky Derby.
We are all at such a great loss in her absence, but Chiara would never want us to sit here mourning. In her death she has still managed to bring people from all walks of life together, where NFL players can meet Italian New Yorkers who can meet Kentucky locals who can meet Michigan sorority girls. If anything, our obligation is to imagine those things about Chiara that made her so vivacious and so unique and incorporate that into yourself.
If you have trouble meeting new people, just remember Chiara and go introduce yourself to someone new. If you have never left your hometown, think of Chiara and find a way to travel to an unexpected city. If you find yourself stressed or working all the time, keep Chiara close in your mind and do something spontaneous with your friends. If your friends are all one age or one nationality or one race or one religion or one class remember our friend and learn how to appreciate those different from ourselves. And all of us, whenever we have the urge to speak badly to another or look down on someone else, please, let Chiara become a life long lesson so that we can all come out of this better people than we were before.
What happened to Chiara was a tragedy, but we must comfort ourselves knowing that in 23 years Chiara lived more than most people could in a lifetime. So lets each take a part of her with us, lets become that part of chiara that you always admired but never had the courage to be, and this way she will be living throughout each and every one of us as long as we live. Once we have wiped away the tears and expressed our condolences, please, let us each go back into our lives and become those people Chiara would have been honored to see us become, because through this she will never be outside our hearts.
THIS WELL WRITTEN EULOGY MELTED MY HEART AS IT ECHOED MY SENTIMENTS.
How many people here can tell a story about meeting Chiara for the first time, going on with your day, week, or month, and then running into a girl who is suddenly hugging you and saying, “hey, you’re Claire McTaggart from Connecticut, I’m Chiara, we met the other day.”
This love of life and all the people in it is what has always made Chiara absolutely unforgettable. While most of us settle into what is comfortable and most familiar, Chiara set out to explore all she could that was unseen, friend any whose path she crossed, and ingrain herself into our memories as that really friendly girl with the wild curly hair.
It is Chiara’s style of living and her hunger to embrace everything outside her comfort zone that we should take with us. We should think about that eccentric Italian Jewish girl from Danville, Kentucky, and remember her emails from Montpellier France, the stories from deer camp in Marquette Michigan, the pictures of Chiara tearing up the dance floor in downtown Brooklyn and the great hat she bought for the Kentucky Derby.
We are all at such a great loss in her absence, but Chiara would never want us to sit here mourning. In her death she has still managed to bring people from all walks of life together, where NFL players can meet Italian New Yorkers who can meet Kentucky locals who can meet Michigan sorority girls. If anything, our obligation is to imagine those things about Chiara that made her so vivacious and so unique and incorporate that into yourself.
If you have trouble meeting new people, just remember Chiara and go introduce yourself to someone new. If you have never left your hometown, think of Chiara and find a way to travel to an unexpected city. If you find yourself stressed or working all the time, keep Chiara close in your mind and do something spontaneous with your friends. If your friends are all one age or one nationality or one race or one religion or one class remember our friend and learn how to appreciate those different from ourselves. And all of us, whenever we have the urge to speak badly to another or look down on someone else, please, let Chiara become a life long lesson so that we can all come out of this better people than we were before.
What happened to Chiara was a tragedy, but we must comfort ourselves knowing that in 23 years Chiara lived more than most people could in a lifetime. So lets each take a part of her with us, lets become that part of chiara that you always admired but never had the courage to be, and this way she will be living throughout each and every one of us as long as we live. Once we have wiped away the tears and expressed our condolences, please, let us each go back into our lives and become those people Chiara would have been honored to see us become, because through this she will never be outside our hearts.
THIS WELL WRITTEN EULOGY MELTED MY HEART AS IT ECHOED MY SENTIMENTS.
Movin' Out
My building is going condo come June, so I am back in the rental market. D'Souza has asked me to move in with him and after much deliberation, I have consented.
I will be one of the co-habitating masses living blissfully in sin and going to mass on Sundays. Does that cancel it out? Gotta make it to confession EVERY week now.
This is going to be a transition but given that the man has two suitcases and I have...er...many more and loads of furniture the dream remains a walk-in closet and enough storage space for all my shoes and bags. I've given up all hopes of squeezing my small dining table into what I can only assume will be our "large" studio, but it's a sacrifice worth making.
I'm all grown up! Look at me!
I will be one of the co-habitating masses living blissfully in sin and going to mass on Sundays. Does that cancel it out? Gotta make it to confession EVERY week now.
This is going to be a transition but given that the man has two suitcases and I have...er...many more and loads of furniture the dream remains a walk-in closet and enough storage space for all my shoes and bags. I've given up all hopes of squeezing my small dining table into what I can only assume will be our "large" studio, but it's a sacrifice worth making.
I'm all grown up! Look at me!
April 3, 2007
My Boyfriend's Back...
And he's better than EVER.
Standing on the corner of Hope St. and Anxiety Avenue at 5:26pm yesterday my eyes awaited their first D'Souza sighting in 3 weeks and 3 days. The minute I saw his signature strut in a gorgeous pin-stripe suit with Men in Black sunglasses, my breath caught in my throat. How could that glorious specimen of manhood possibly be ALL mine? That was the only thought in my otherwise racing mind. A passing thug hooted his approval at the smile which lit my face as my man sidled up to me sweeping me into a crushing embrace and amorous lip lock.
Time literally stopped as I breathed him in, oblivious to the rush hour bustle of the financial district around us. It was another movie moment to add to our long list of romantic rendezvous.
Of course, now he's back to work in distant OH till Saturday...but I can survive three days without complaint after the 12 hours of attention and affection he showered on me last night. God, I missed him.
Standing on the corner of Hope St. and Anxiety Avenue at 5:26pm yesterday my eyes awaited their first D'Souza sighting in 3 weeks and 3 days. The minute I saw his signature strut in a gorgeous pin-stripe suit with Men in Black sunglasses, my breath caught in my throat. How could that glorious specimen of manhood possibly be ALL mine? That was the only thought in my otherwise racing mind. A passing thug hooted his approval at the smile which lit my face as my man sidled up to me sweeping me into a crushing embrace and amorous lip lock.
Time literally stopped as I breathed him in, oblivious to the rush hour bustle of the financial district around us. It was another movie moment to add to our long list of romantic rendezvous.
Of course, now he's back to work in distant OH till Saturday...but I can survive three days without complaint after the 12 hours of attention and affection he showered on me last night. God, I missed him.
April 2, 2007
Palm Sunday
Running up the steps on 5th Avenue, you leave the bustle of Midtown as soon as you set foot inside Saint Patrick's Cathedral--the oldest Gothic church in the United States. 
Sitting in a pew near the back, I picked up two fresh stalks of palm and bent them--as I'd seen a thousand times at St. Theresa's and St. Mary's in Bombay--to make a cross in reverence to folks 2000 years ago welcoming Jesus to their town. The same folks who stood around and watched him get nailed to a cross five days later.
I said a prayer for Chiara...who never went to church or cared about organized religion--more for me than her--what did I have to offer her wherever she was. I could only hope her beliefs had led to a place where the wine never stopped flowing and the men were all foreign or at least had foreign accents. I knew she had been as close to happy as anyone could be who was taken prematurely and/or without warning.
I said a prayer for my Mom and the new family she had formed with her new husband. A family I tried desperately to keep myself separate from but realized with every passing day, despite my best intentions, I was alienating loved ones and gently damaging my mother. I vowed to do a better job of embracing that family--a family that included me with open arms and supported my most inane decisions.
I thought fondly of being in that churh with D'Souza and the family we hoped to be some day. I wondered if that fantasy was a reality I was truly ready for and I wished with all my heart that God would prepare me for what I hoped was the long road ahead. I prayed for his safe journey back to me, knowing he was on a plane somewhere over Europe where churches like St. Patrick's abounded--towering steeples and stained glass windows built by devout men hoping for heaven.
I made a mental note to cook an extravagant feast for Easter despite my culinary shortcomings and general disdain for all times spent alone in a kitchen.
I value tradition. I've come to accept that much of my faith is rooted in the customs I was raised with adherence to as well as the do-it-because-the-Bible-says-so-ness impressed upon me as a child. Perhaps that is how organized religion continues to weild power over the masses. Perhaps as I age, my inclination to cling closely to where I come from strengthens. I'm not much of a Catholic, in truth. What I am is a lover of the ritual and tradition of Catholicism planted in me as a child that despite infrequent watering has blossomed into a flower that frequents church.
I'm a pro-life/pro-birth control, pro-gay marriage Christian and I have no trouble reconciling my faith in Jesus with my value for freedom and free will.
Sitting in a pew near the back, I picked up two fresh stalks of palm and bent them--as I'd seen a thousand times at St. Theresa's and St. Mary's in Bombay--to make a cross in reverence to folks 2000 years ago welcoming Jesus to their town. The same folks who stood around and watched him get nailed to a cross five days later.
I said a prayer for Chiara...who never went to church or cared about organized religion--more for me than her--what did I have to offer her wherever she was. I could only hope her beliefs had led to a place where the wine never stopped flowing and the men were all foreign or at least had foreign accents. I knew she had been as close to happy as anyone could be who was taken prematurely and/or without warning.
I said a prayer for my Mom and the new family she had formed with her new husband. A family I tried desperately to keep myself separate from but realized with every passing day, despite my best intentions, I was alienating loved ones and gently damaging my mother. I vowed to do a better job of embracing that family--a family that included me with open arms and supported my most inane decisions.
I thought fondly of being in that churh with D'Souza and the family we hoped to be some day. I wondered if that fantasy was a reality I was truly ready for and I wished with all my heart that God would prepare me for what I hoped was the long road ahead. I prayed for his safe journey back to me, knowing he was on a plane somewhere over Europe where churches like St. Patrick's abounded--towering steeples and stained glass windows built by devout men hoping for heaven.
I made a mental note to cook an extravagant feast for Easter despite my culinary shortcomings and general disdain for all times spent alone in a kitchen.
I value tradition. I've come to accept that much of my faith is rooted in the customs I was raised with adherence to as well as the do-it-because-the-Bible-says-so-ness impressed upon me as a child. Perhaps that is how organized religion continues to weild power over the masses. Perhaps as I age, my inclination to cling closely to where I come from strengthens. I'm not much of a Catholic, in truth. What I am is a lover of the ritual and tradition of Catholicism planted in me as a child that despite infrequent watering has blossomed into a flower that frequents church.
I'm a pro-life/pro-birth control, pro-gay marriage Christian and I have no trouble reconciling my faith in Jesus with my value for freedom and free will.
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