Posts from the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

CAUTION, this post is most likely offensive!

Children, this post is not for the thin skinned…the problems have outgrown the pastels. I have toned down the apartment with slipcovers and my edgy and progressive artwork. I did however breakdown and purchase a palm tree today with visions of a Christmas card featuring me in a Santa hat in front of it in my head. Anyhow, I have masked the Golden Girl-esqueness of my bachelorette pad as much as humanly possible. Now that I have worked my magic on my home office I have started to explore my new home town. And low and behold I have discovered a few “issues” that I have, which will be listed below.
1. People from the South claim Florida is not the South, although its as far down as you can go… I was rudely alerted to this fact while innocently ordering a sweet tea in Charleston and mentioned I had recently moved. In my mind all this means is that we get the hicks without the Southern charm…. how pleasant for Northerners. If I am going to move my butt down here from Connecticut I think I deserve a little door holding, a few “Ladies firsts”, and some friendly banter.
2. The DMV or RMV as it is known elswhere in the country and most likely world is labeled here as”Drivers Licenses” and at my “Drivers Licenses” hut the sign is painted onto a piece of corrugated carboard.
3. The govener that slated to win this year’s election is endorsed by the NRA… this fact apparently accounts for a large portion of his popularity with the people.
4. Everyone says that there is a slower lifestyle here and I am forced to ponder why this is a positive. Is it so we can enjoy the 200% humidity even longer?
5. 71 year olds apparently go to the same bars as 20 somethings. Not charming Mr. Rogers types that are hard of hearing and attend potlucks… you don’t even want to know.
6. There are no laws stating you can’t carry a concealed weapon, drive a motorcylcle sans helmet, talk on a cell phone while driving, or smoke in a bar…but there is a law making it clear you cannot have an alligator on your property.
7. I have yet to find a homosexual or an asian, this limits my friend pool quite dramatically. This also limits my dining options. There are actually restaurants here called “Thai Sushi”… this frightens me.
8. I have yet to find a hippie. I have heard there is such a breed as a beach bum, which is quite similar, however there is narry a beach bum nor hippie in sight. This means that the only “farmer’s market” in sight is actually a government high rise.

So there you have it folks, all of my friends have apparently been shot by the govenor. I am hungry, hot, and without fresh produce. This photograph that I was fortunate enough to capture while driving (hey no law is stopping me) says it all. Not surprisingly people can smell my Northern roots a mile away and I get the old ” You aren’t from around here are you?” line frequently. Well y’all, lets face it, I am most definitely not from around these here parts and so far thats alright with me.

The Pastels are Making me Nauseous

I am not sure if that is how you spell nauseous, but I am sitting here in my home office… and the pastels are making me extremely dizzy and disoriented. Perhaps this is why every part of my training modules take me longer than the suggested time frames given. Yesterday I did not realize it was Friday until a friend mentioned plans of merrymaking halfway across the nation. It was at this point that I realized that for the first time in a long while I was going to be staying in involuntarily. So I immediately headed out to my only place of refuge that I have discovered as of yet. This was of course to the FedEX Kinkos across the street. ** Side Note** What a brilliant co-branding effort I must say. I was very much a fan of Kinkos on its own, but the FedEX Kinkos mega stores have proven to be extremely multifaceted and entirely helpful for me. Just last night for example I was permitted to send a FREE fax! You can also purchase over priced boxes and shipping supplies.** Anyway, so I journeyed to the FedEX Kinkos only to realize that I was the only person lame enough to be there on a Friday night at 9 pm. I now firmly hold on to the belief that it was merely the strong pity the clerk felt for me that he provided me with the free fax. This entire transaction/journey took a total of 10 minutes, which was slightly devastating since it was the only outing I had planned for the evening. Thus, my Friday night fun having was brought to an untimely end which came to a close as I was pulled over for speeding in my own parking lot. Please keep in mind that the speed limit is 15 mph due to the fact that some residents enjoy bike riding and leisure walking along the canal. I, being the cautious driver that I am, hover around the 15 mph limit at about 14 or 16 mph. This fateful night I happened to clock in at the higher end of this range (16 mph). At this point I was reprimanded by a cold Jamaican guard. Never have I been so turned off to the normally jovial accent as when I heard the words “Slow it down girl”. Thus, I was sent home with a free fax and a harsh talking too from my own security guard. As a result I proceeded to wallow in an a abyss for quite some time, trying to muster up some sympathy from close family. And now once again I am in my home office feeling quite odd as a result of the overuse of pastels in my residence. The only upside to this situation is the fact that from where I typically sit the view of my atrocious avocado stove is concealed. Thank god for the silver lining! Adios Mios.

Relocation

So here I am in Sunny Florida. So far I have seen an alligator being wrestled, shopped at a flea market the elderly and destitute, and saw a portly female in a thong bathing suit. My living room is decorated with pastel sea horses and my bedroom with an obscene number of sheep. I have bonded with the FedEX man over our grattitude for the cool weather in Florida (compared to NYC it is relatively cool). I have given Helen a ride to the supermarket so she could fill her suitcase on wheels with groceries. I have been invited to tea with Inga, my Russian neighbor. I have had my car valet parked a distance that was shorter than me. I have paid bills, made dinner, and ironed. I have vacuumed and used the hospital corner method of bed making. I’ve written thank you notes and filed insurance forms. I have more suits than summer dresses. To me this is astonishing. Over such a short period of time, my life has been completely transformed. No more nights that begin at 11 pm. No more falling asleep to the sound of someone screaming about last call. No more waking up to the sound of excited chatter about the latest gossip. Most likely never again will I get home at 6 am or 3 am for that matter. Right now a good night consists of a bowl of ice cream, a glass of red wine, and Law and Order. And I wake up to the sound of silence. Or the knocks of FedEX. To give myself a little credit I have only lived on my own for 3 days, so it is my firm belief that my social calendar will eventually be filled once again. However, real world… I have arrived.

I’m back!

For the past few days I have been journeying throughout a land I like to call Florida. As you know this is to be my new home in a few short, but activity filled weeks. While in this wondrous place I was able to find myself a home and learn a bit about the area. I must admit at first I was a bit nervous about the move with visions of alligator nibbles and Bridge nights taunting me through many a sleepless night. Mullets and pastels nauseated me during each morning meal. Sun poisoning and monsoons gave me goosebumps and ulcers. But after four days in my new home town I can assure you I will be a-okay. After many a fact seeking mission my partner in crime and I counted at least 3 people under the age of 30, this is a good start! And if they are ever for some reason unavailable to socialize, BINGO is being played at any given point during any given day. This is excellent because not only am I am excellent BINGO player, I also have been known to be a superb BINGO number caller. So either way I am set for life. And in terms of the whole tack factor, it turns out Floridians actually have quite a keen sense of style so I will feel right at home. I was fortunate enough to find a furnished apartment under my budget that is move- in ready. For those unfamiliar with the term, this means I basically can pack a duffle bag and I am good to go! Forget furniture buying, painting, or decorating, this baby ready. Luckily I was able to take a few pictures so I can share my bliss with all of my faithful readers.

for future reference

If you know me or anyone else that may be moving to Florida here are some tips on what to say and not to say about this move. Do Say, “Wow that is exciting, I can’t wait to visit”, “You’ll get so many visitors”, “What a fun place to move after College”, “I am jealous”, “I’ll move there with you”, “You are going to be so successful, tan, and beautiful down there” (note you can say this even if it is impossible for this person to become tan due to pigmentation complications), or you can also say “I know such and such person that lives there, I will tell them all about you and you can become best friends”. Please refrain from saying, “Oh be careful of the aligators”, “Oh I just heard about this guy that got eaten by an alligator”, “I just read about a girl that lost her hand to an alligator”, “What?! Be careful of the hurricanes”, “Ohhhh did you hear about this huge hurricane that maimed a baby”, “Ohhh but aren’t you going to be SOOOO hot?!?!?”, “What?!?! you are moving all by yourself?? Aren’t you scared?? BE CAREFUL”, and finally “Oh my god Florida??? I just read a story about how during a hurricane this single girl’s condo blew away and an alligator bit off her face.” Please head this advice carefully, it will grant you great success in conversations about this topic in the future. Happy Chatting!

Check it out!

You’ve probably been wondering where I’ve been. And the answer is: doing big important things! I am trying to regulate my inner cooling system by doing Bikram yoga (think yoga in a sauna) and also I have created this new blog for my mom! check it out at : http://sockmonkeycreatures.blogspot.com/

My apologies

I received word that I have been letting down my devoted blog readers by not posting regularly. This all started when my computer died and then never really started up again because let’s face it I don’t have a whole lot going on to write about. Prior to my graduation I envisioned my summer days jam packed with wholesome activities ranging from biking to baking. An article in Food and Wine inspired me to take up cheese making and I planned to start with soft ricottas and goats before moving on to harder cheddars and parmesans. I planned to start each day greeting the sun with yoga and meditation and end with meaningful and pensive walks along the beach. I planned to write poetry and drink lattes at independent coffee shops. I was going to start eating only pure and organic foods. Well needless to say it’s the end of week two and all I have managed to do is keep a special place on the couch pretty warm for about 15 hours out of each 24. I tried to keep busy I even planned to go to a yoga class with a friend. But just the thought of it exhausted me. I think I realized I am not cut out for actual activity. In fact I have adapted quite nicely to my new lifestyle. Today for example, I rose at about 1 pm and enjoyed a bowl of cereal with my parents. I then retired to my couch area to watch a Red Sox game, which was actually rained out so I fell back on my contingency plan (see I am a well prepared TV viewer) and began to watch several hours of the Food Network. At this point I became exhausted and decided to head up to my boudoir for a short nap. A few hours later I prepared some dinner and returned to the TV for two Lifetime movies and some Saturday Night Live. Fortunately it was a delightful episode from the past which features a favored digital short that I featured on the blog several posts ago. Although this may not seem like much to others I am quite proud of my accomplishments. In my two post graduate weeks I have not yet been fired from my job, turned to cocaine, attempted rape or suicide, or turned into a stalker. According to a fine film from a fine decade (St. Elmo’s Fire) these are sensible outcomes of post graduate confusion so I figure I am doing alright! And I was also just diagnosed with a severe disease, which I have concluded gives me the exclusive right to laze about for at least a few more days. And once I am all healed I am quite certain that I will be doing all sorts of nutrient dense, intellectually stimulating, and world improving activities and I will certainly be keeping the world posted via the blog.

An Amendment to My Life is Over

I know I previously said that my life is over in my past post. And that resulted in some concern from Dad. But lately I have been saying a lot of things that I don’t mean. For example when people say Congratulations about graduation and I smile and say “Thank you it’s so exciting”. This is a lie. Typically “This is so exciting” in actuality means “This is so scary I could hyperventilate and pass out”. Another favorite is when I say “It is time to move on”. What this actually means is “I never want to move on ever and if you bring up the fact that it is time to move on again I may a) hyperventilate and pass out or b) break out into hysterics which you will have the responsibility of quelling over several sniveling hours.” Another is when I say “Well at least we had a great 4 years.” Although I do know in the back of my mind that I will mean this in the future, for the time being this means, “I wish I would have spent more time in a chemistry lab or in the library instead of enjoying every second of these past four years because then maybe I wouldn’t be this devastated that they are over.” The parents have assured me that I will not actually be crying for the rest of my life and I will not need a life time of therapy for the pain I am suffering. At first did not believe them. The thought that I won’t be able to walk out of my front door and know at least 10 people walking bye had me plummeting quite rapidly. That I won’t be able to meet up with friends in seconds. That I will once again be anonymous. That I will actually have to start over. All of these thoughts convinced me I will never get over the loss of college comfort. But, then I reconsidered. I filed through my years of experiences and memories and remembered a similar, much more intense fear that I felt before coming to Cornell. Change is not a favorite of mine. I am quite content with routine in an elderly retirement lifestyle sort of manner. (Breakfast at 9, walk at noon, bingo at 2, bridge at 4…) But you know what, with my chameleon like tendencies I know everything will be okay. I’ll be salsa dancing and tanning before I know with the best of them. And although all I can think about is the Will Smith ditty, I think I’ll do just fine. Bienvenido a Miami baby!!!

My Life is Over

Since this past summer there are two comments/ questions that I receive from the general public on a daily basis. These people, once finding out I am graduating from college, undoubtably ask what my plans are for next year. This is a completely logical and polite question. What I don’t appreciate is the alternative comment. The painful look and the sucking in of breath as the commenter states, “Well I hope you enjoy the rest of your time.” It’s as if I am terminally ill, with only a few more weeks to live. And I don’t know if its because they rubbed off on me or not, but this is how I feel. This morning I accepted a job offer and as of June 5th, my life is officially over. For a while there I was quite content to pretend that college was actually going to go on forever. That I would never actually have to leave this little oasis of non stop fun having. But the realization that I now have to make money instead of continuing to consume it has finally struck. Needless to say, this is a bummer. So if I am a bit touchy, its because more and more each day this is sinking in and I am not happy about it.

i don’t know why i don’t leave

For those of you that don’t know I have been involved in an extremely abusive relationship this year. This guy has been controlling, selfish, and flighty and I just can’t seem to leave. His name is ipod and though every other day I get so frustrated I need to meditate for hours to rid myself of the trouble he has caused, I just can’t seem to forget all of the good times. I can’t push away all of the times he walked me to my job this summer whispering beautiful melodies in my ear. The times he tuned out all of the barbaric 50 year old frat boys on the train. The times he went to the gym with me gently encouraging me to run faster and work harder. I can’t forget how he drops me off at hotel school every morning getting me pumped up for each day of note taking and studying. He tunes out all of the background noise in the library and helps motivate me to take my morning walk/runs. He also has this way about him. He knows when I need to hear some soothing music after I’ve had a bad day. He knows when I need to add a little bounce to my step. He knows when I am feeling romantic and when I need to get out some aggression. These are what I choose to remember overall. I somehow forget about the times when he refuses to play anything but Phish. The times that he crosses his eyes and sticks out his tongue and refuses to turn on. I try to get him back, I push all combinations of his four buttons but that face just keeps staring at me and laughing. I forget how many times he has left at weeks at a time and comes back with no memory of all of my music and preferences. It’s as if he doesn’t even know me anymore. He just looks at me with a blank stare as I plug him in and we start all over again. Then there are the times on my 6 hour bus trips to CT that he refuses to sing to me at all. I am forced to listen to the mundane chatter and the bullshit whining of the sniveling misfits that surround me. Then there are the times when he tricks me by starting a song and then 30 seconds into it he freezes. During these moments and weeks when he is gone I feel lost and alone. Everyone walks around me with their headphones dangling, their hips swaying to the sweet music playing in their ears. And at night I cry because the music in my life is gone. Recently he left me and I cried these tears. I thought it may be over; I was going to call it quits for good. I had a plan, an escape route. As I was about to make the fateful phone call he came back to life and just like that I let him back into my life to fill my days with his harmonious music. And once again all of his sins were forgotten. And I have now embarked on this abusive cycle once again. I figure that when is here it is good enough to make up for all of the bad he has done, and that is good enough for me.