There is a gossip writer for the NY Post who blabs on about people and events daily and always ends her columns with "only in NY kids, only in NY". That pretty much sums up my day.
I am on the third night in a row of not falling asleep until 0700. I lay awake praying for sleep sometimes getting up to use the restroom or get on the computer but most of the time just laying motionless hoping for my brain to shut off and my body to fall. That feeling right before a deep sleep, when you feel it coming and welcome it with open arms or fight it when it is not appropriate to sleep. The two days prior it didn't really matter what time I awoke as there were no plans for the day. Today however, I had commitments with a busy week following. I awoke in a nightmarish sweat at 0900 as a huge bee was in my hair. I fell back asleep for forty minutes not restfully but light slumber. I brushed my teeth and washed my face. The clock was not my friend when it came to getting across town to walk the dog. I consider to take a cab in order to keep my commitment to Willy but stopped for a triple latte or what I refer to as my savior these days.
I hoped in a cab and actually made some phone calls and returned some emails as the cab crept across Central Park. I arrived ten minutes late to the lovely greeting of some one who didn't care what time it was, he was just happy to see me. We walked in the NY chill for an hour and then spent some time cuddling.
i walked up ten blocks to the paper store to purchase some additional wrapping paper and talked myself into spending the $8 for a cab ride home versus 45 minutes via public transport. I could maximize my sleep time prior to the next commitment. I got home and made a piece of toast with peanut butter to quite the tummy before laying down with my eye mask on and alarm set. In two hours, I got one. I'll take it. I arose to get into the shower and get ready to get to BJ's for my first serving gig in two months. I got there early, enough time to order a triple latte. I wasn't hungry, I just did my work. It was super busy and I was running my ass off.
I helped a group of people that wanted to eat without a table. I didn't want to but felt bad when my manager wanted me too. My gut was correct as they bolted on their check $35 out of my tips for that bullshit. I continued to get table after table and in moment of calmness took a look around. I was out of the swing of things and this waitressing was exhausting. I used to be a rock star, helping out the other girls. Tonight I was being asked for help. I also took a moment to realize I had new love handles in my Classic tee.
I walked to the bar to get some drinks and came back to find another table skipped out on me. FUCK!!! Are you kidding me? Who does that bullshit as an adult? I was immediately on the defense and went to ask every table for a credit card. Do you realize how bad that makes you look as a waitress? I was depressed, all this work for nothing. The last table I had were NYPD and they were ready to find my check cutters and take them down. We discussed this with great length as they bought me a post shift beer.
As I was counting out my money and paying everyone but myself, I was on the phone to Beth to find out that they are not leaving the country as Drew has lost his passport. I am not dog walking tomorrow...more money lost.
I usually treat myself to a cab after a long night of waitressing but couldn't justify it tonight. And what do I have to get home for? To lay awake and wait for day light? So I began walking. East on 31st Street towards the 6.
What is great about NY is the things people leave on the sidewalk for pick up. Mind you, we have no dump. You could literally furnish your house from items left on the sidewalk. I investigate things every so often and wonder what the hell I would really do with it. I am using my book shelve with delight for over a year now!
There is a black trunk with brass latches and brass corners, it intrigues me. I look inside, just plywood. I inspect the outside to see that it is in good condition considering it's age of forty years or so. I pick it up and start carrying it with me. My $95 dinner in one hand and the 1'x1'x3' trunk in the other. I turn up Park Avenue and enter the subway station. I wait for several minutes with my trunk on the bench. I board the train and sit next to some bums. They comment on my trunk and my dinner. I have my ipod in but can here them. I acknowledge with a "ya right" and a smile. I get off at 86th to catch the cross town bus. I get off here instead of 116th because it is my old neighborhood and I feel safe here. I didn't want to wait for the bus in Spanish Harlem with my trunk. Ten minutes later the bus pulls up. I am the only person on the block. I remind myself of Pattington Bear with his suitcase at the train. I board the bus much to the amusement of the bus driver. I cross the park and get off at CPW. I walked down the subway stairs to catch the B uptown. I am on the only one of the platform. Five minutes later the train comes. I board a some what busy car. I sit down my trunk and look ahead. A gentleman looks at my trunk and gives me a knowing smile. I shrug my shoulders a little proud of my find. I stare at it wondering what I am going to put inside. I decide it will be blankets and old photos and it will sit next to my dinning table. I watch guy for a bit as he is reading. He is not American, he is kind of cute actually.
There have been many times when I wish that someone cute would please, please get off at my stop and make witty banter with me. It never happens and if they do get off at the same stop they or I rush off to the next leg of the journey.
He earmarked his book which made him chuckle during the ride and got off at my stop. He commented about my trunk, I told him I found it on the streets. I ask him what he was reading. A French book he said in a French accent. So we walked for a block and talked. Then I sat down my trunk and he asked for my number. I said yes. Because if I can find treasure on the streets at midnight, I might find something on the subway home.
25 February 2009
24 February 2009
esb colors
Putting my new found insomnia to good use....
http://whatcoloristheempirestatebuilding.com/
Today is Committee Encouraging Corporate Philanthropy, Corporate Philanthropy Day
Cool!
http://whatcoloristheempirestatebuilding.com/
Today is Committee Encouraging Corporate Philanthropy, Corporate Philanthropy Day
Cool!
pretty in pink...only double the age
Nothing can make me feel more like a girl than a gorgeous dress. I know it is odd to hear the Yankee fan, dire hard college football, wear no make up on Sunday gal loves a nice dress, but it’s true. It is the dress up part of me, the feminine side you could say.
I swat here by the bed in my new pink party dress and dnky mules trying to capture the moment of how pretty I feel. Swatting is even pretty in this dress. My make up has been washed off for the evening and my hair…we are not even going to talk about my hair. Here I am in alone in my room twirling in front of the window with only a vague reflection back but the top of the city contrasting myself.
It is the dress I searched months for prior to my 30th birthday and could not find. Don’t get me wrong; Marc Jacobs served his duty well for my lavish festivities. But this year, in the party dress, I have no plans. I have birthday proper off work, the only day that week actually.
I have thought about making a reservation at a restaurant I have always wanted to try 21 Club. It has the jockeys outside of it and is rumored to be courted by the celebs.
I have this image of sitting alone with a glass of champagne everyone wondering who I am and why I am dining alone. Maybe a handsome man will come over and ask. I’ll explain that it is my birthday. He’ll send over a birthday cake to my embarrassment and glee. We will go dancing in my pink dress and it will flutter gently with the momentum of the moment.
I swat here by the bed in my new pink party dress and dnky mules trying to capture the moment of how pretty I feel. Swatting is even pretty in this dress. My make up has been washed off for the evening and my hair…we are not even going to talk about my hair. Here I am in alone in my room twirling in front of the window with only a vague reflection back but the top of the city contrasting myself.
It is the dress I searched months for prior to my 30th birthday and could not find. Don’t get me wrong; Marc Jacobs served his duty well for my lavish festivities. But this year, in the party dress, I have no plans. I have birthday proper off work, the only day that week actually.
I have thought about making a reservation at a restaurant I have always wanted to try 21 Club. It has the jockeys outside of it and is rumored to be courted by the celebs.
I have this image of sitting alone with a glass of champagne everyone wondering who I am and why I am dining alone. Maybe a handsome man will come over and ask. I’ll explain that it is my birthday. He’ll send over a birthday cake to my embarrassment and glee. We will go dancing in my pink dress and it will flutter gently with the momentum of the moment.
dubai...a mirage: a letter written to another applicant
So I went to Dubai to visit my friend and here is what I found out. They called an update meeting to let the cabin crew know that there will be no profit sharing this year as they had not made a profit. Also they have stopped recruiting at this point and time and well as stopped training until they can re-evaluate.
I stayed in crew accomidation and even though it was nice, each person has their own bathroom, bedroom fully furnished in a brand new building. You can't open the windows for fresh air. The building I stayed in was the Millenium Tower and it is in the center of Business Bay which will be something grand in a year or so but right now it is just dirt. My other friend lives in 21st Century building and it a bit friendlier to get around without having a car. That's the thing as well, you really need a car to have sanity. True the crew bus picks you up to and from the airport but other than that there are just taxis. You are not allowed to get a car loan for the first 6 months of your probationary period.
Food is expensive as well since everything is shipped in. It was kind of fun to go to the market and see produce from all over the world though.
I liked the city but I don't believe it lived up to it's hipe.
Pablo sent me this article, which I found amusing and could see how it could be totally true. They are all about appearances.
I'll keep you updated if I hear any good news from there as well.
I stayed in crew accomidation and even though it was nice, each person has their own bathroom, bedroom fully furnished in a brand new building. You can't open the windows for fresh air. The building I stayed in was the Millenium Tower and it is in the center of Business Bay which will be something grand in a year or so but right now it is just dirt. My other friend lives in 21st Century building and it a bit friendlier to get around without having a car. That's the thing as well, you really need a car to have sanity. True the crew bus picks you up to and from the airport but other than that there are just taxis. You are not allowed to get a car loan for the first 6 months of your probationary period.
Food is expensive as well since everything is shipped in. It was kind of fun to go to the market and see produce from all over the world though.
I liked the city but I don't believe it lived up to it's hipe.
Pablo sent me this article, which I found amusing and could see how it could be totally true. They are all about appearances.
I'll keep you updated if I hear any good news from there as well.
16 February 2009
dubai day one
Within 11 hours of returning home, I was on a plane once more headed east, the middle east. My friend was working the flight on the A-380 and made the 13 hour flight more bearable with champange upstairs in the business lounge and coming to get me during service breaks.
Fast forward: I am having a feeling that I am going to have to stand up for myself and actually ask to see Dubai not her Dubai which hates the locals and only visits ex-pat sights. I know this will lead to a fight that is usually why I go with the flow but seriously I am the vistor not to her world but to her city. Show me around damn it!!!
Fast forward: I am having a feeling that I am going to have to stand up for myself and actually ask to see Dubai not her Dubai which hates the locals and only visits ex-pat sights. I know this will lead to a fight that is usually why I go with the flow but seriously I am the vistor not to her world but to her city. Show me around damn it!!!
hawaii in a coconut shell
Carol / Me
5 hour flight / 10 hour flight
picked up in town car with lai / took bus to get rental car 1/5 hrs later at hotel
passenger in the convertible / map reader, driver
shopper / bag holder
tourist / tour guide and driver
steak and lobster / sushi
spa day / spa day plus bikini wax
luau lover / pork lover
actually got into the ocean / surfer
discovered poolside drinks / got drunk with local friend and tan!
shuttled to the airport and walked to the gate / returned car, hung out for 5 hours with broken toe
5 hour flight / 10 hour flight
We hit Pearl Harbor Memorial which was moving and informative to learn about where my grandpa and father were during the attacks. The BX, equally fun! : ) Showing my mom the island and actually remembering my previous tour over Christmas was great. Driving the convertible on gorgeous sun filed days was fabulous even if I had to read the map and drive at the same time. Our spa day was amazing and so relaxing. The luau was great especially the part when Carol told the hot luau giver that she wanted a kiss as well. My favorite day was the relaxing one where I hit the waves early in the morning and practiced my surfing skills until a wave kicked my ass and broke my toe. We walked around and in the sand before retiring to the pool. The next morning I went for a final walk on the beach just to soak it all in and re-established the broken toe by hitting it on a rock. It was Friday the 13th but at least I have a souviner for a couple more weeks
5 hour flight / 10 hour flight
picked up in town car with lai / took bus to get rental car 1/5 hrs later at hotel
passenger in the convertible / map reader, driver
shopper / bag holder
tourist / tour guide and driver
steak and lobster / sushi
spa day / spa day plus bikini wax
luau lover / pork lover
actually got into the ocean / surfer
discovered poolside drinks / got drunk with local friend and tan!
shuttled to the airport and walked to the gate / returned car, hung out for 5 hours with broken toe
5 hour flight / 10 hour flight
We hit Pearl Harbor Memorial which was moving and informative to learn about where my grandpa and father were during the attacks. The BX, equally fun! : ) Showing my mom the island and actually remembering my previous tour over Christmas was great. Driving the convertible on gorgeous sun filed days was fabulous even if I had to read the map and drive at the same time. Our spa day was amazing and so relaxing. The luau was great especially the part when Carol told the hot luau giver that she wanted a kiss as well. My favorite day was the relaxing one where I hit the waves early in the morning and practiced my surfing skills until a wave kicked my ass and broke my toe. We walked around and in the sand before retiring to the pool. The next morning I went for a final walk on the beach just to soak it all in and re-established the broken toe by hitting it on a rock. It was Friday the 13th but at least I have a souviner for a couple more weeks
06 February 2009
february alterations
Maybe Carol is right, maybe it is the time of year when I start to worry I am not doing enough with my life. She believes it has something to do with my looming birthday. I think it has something to do with the winter blahs. Thus why I always take my holidays around this time. Sunshine does well with my soul and helps tied me over until spring.
In retrospect, I do tend to make those big, life-altering decisions this time of year. I used to attribute it to coming home from a big holiday. It started in my mind when I was 25 right after my first international trip. I didn’t mess around for the first one; it was big and way far away. I spent two weeks in Australia with Turiya, Dennis, and my beau Matt. It was a great trip and it opened my eyes to the world outside of Klamath Falls. I came home and within three months I packed up my life and blindly moved to Portland. I had been to Portland once for a Garth Brooks concert in another lifetime. I had a job and a place to stay for a month and that was all I needed to leave my hometown.
I made a promise to myself to go somewhere new internationally every year from then on. I even opened a savings account to put money away for the next journey.
The following year around the savings account was a little low, I am sure this had something to do with the fact I was supporting my boyfriend. He thought his job was to sit around all day playing PS2 and drinking beer. I met up with Dennis and Turiya once more as they were living in Whistler. There was sunshine up there on those beautiful mountains and I did get my passport stamped as a courtesy so I count it as somewhere international. I came home and within a month I was single ending a four-year relationship.
Next year with newfound freedom and a raise in salary, I made it to Europe for the first time. Once again I met Dennis and Turiya, are you seeing a pattern here? Two weeks we road tripped around Italy and France. It was good fun other than the fact that they were on the cliff of break up and I got to me the person they felt comfortable enough to fight in front of. I came home and was very unhappy with my work life. I also came down with some infliction which lasted no less than two solid months, two rounds of anti-botics, a chest x-ray, and CAT scan. I was in a horrible funk and decided I needed to move to San Diego. I had many phone interviews and called in sick to fly down for a final interview. I missed the plane and by the time I arrived the president of the company already didn’t like me so, no job. I did try to make a life change with no avail. Within two months I met my Pearl friends and found my home.
A new home purchased and still money in the bank. It is easy to say I was in the mortgage business when times were good. This year I took my friend Emily and we met Turiya and two other ladies in Thailand. A great girls holiday for sure. As I was on the second of the three planes back to Portland I started conversing with the flight attendant. He told me I should become a flight attendant since I couldn’t afford to travel as much as I would truly like. I took this under consideration and within two weeks started interviewing with Horizon Airlines. It seemed to snow ball after that and within three months I had quit my job and was in training in Houston, Texas.
Sad to say I didn’t leave the continental US other than the Bahamas for the first seven months of flying until my vacation days arrived in February. I planned a trip with a friend and she was unable to go so I boldly did it on my own. I went to Costa Rica and discovered not only the love of surfing, zip lining, and exploring but also myself. I found out how great it was to do what I wanted, and not to be pressured into drinking if I didn’t want or to take a nap any damn time I pleased. This enlightenment in itself was my big life change.
In June right after my dad’s passing the world finally opened up for me. I was finally an international flight attendant. The destinations and experiences happened over and over again much to my delight. I continued to nurture my boldness of exploring on my own. I even took off to Prague for a long weekend because my roommate was bugging the shit out of me.
I still planned my pilgrimage in February and met…you guessed it, Turiya in Bali. I went there with the intention of spirituality; she came with the intention of getting hammered. We met somewhere in the middle. I followed in the footsteps of Liz Gilbert and found a peace from the horrible month I lived through prior. When I came home the life change was already in place. I decided to stay in New York and not let it make me weak. I stayed and fought already and the holiday was just my reward.
And here I am this year. It is February 6th, 2009. I have already gone to Panama, the only life decision I made there was to never go back and thank god for my intelligence. Hawaii with Carol lies before me Monday and then Dubai with...Turiya. Tomorrow morning is also staring me in the face. I know there will be a decision or two or three which will demand attention soon.
Can I figure them out or will take more years of reflection?
Maybe it is Turiya who is my oracle...
In retrospect, I do tend to make those big, life-altering decisions this time of year. I used to attribute it to coming home from a big holiday. It started in my mind when I was 25 right after my first international trip. I didn’t mess around for the first one; it was big and way far away. I spent two weeks in Australia with Turiya, Dennis, and my beau Matt. It was a great trip and it opened my eyes to the world outside of Klamath Falls. I came home and within three months I packed up my life and blindly moved to Portland. I had been to Portland once for a Garth Brooks concert in another lifetime. I had a job and a place to stay for a month and that was all I needed to leave my hometown.
I made a promise to myself to go somewhere new internationally every year from then on. I even opened a savings account to put money away for the next journey.
The following year around the savings account was a little low, I am sure this had something to do with the fact I was supporting my boyfriend. He thought his job was to sit around all day playing PS2 and drinking beer. I met up with Dennis and Turiya once more as they were living in Whistler. There was sunshine up there on those beautiful mountains and I did get my passport stamped as a courtesy so I count it as somewhere international. I came home and within a month I was single ending a four-year relationship.
Next year with newfound freedom and a raise in salary, I made it to Europe for the first time. Once again I met Dennis and Turiya, are you seeing a pattern here? Two weeks we road tripped around Italy and France. It was good fun other than the fact that they were on the cliff of break up and I got to me the person they felt comfortable enough to fight in front of. I came home and was very unhappy with my work life. I also came down with some infliction which lasted no less than two solid months, two rounds of anti-botics, a chest x-ray, and CAT scan. I was in a horrible funk and decided I needed to move to San Diego. I had many phone interviews and called in sick to fly down for a final interview. I missed the plane and by the time I arrived the president of the company already didn’t like me so, no job. I did try to make a life change with no avail. Within two months I met my Pearl friends and found my home.
A new home purchased and still money in the bank. It is easy to say I was in the mortgage business when times were good. This year I took my friend Emily and we met Turiya and two other ladies in Thailand. A great girls holiday for sure. As I was on the second of the three planes back to Portland I started conversing with the flight attendant. He told me I should become a flight attendant since I couldn’t afford to travel as much as I would truly like. I took this under consideration and within two weeks started interviewing with Horizon Airlines. It seemed to snow ball after that and within three months I had quit my job and was in training in Houston, Texas.
Sad to say I didn’t leave the continental US other than the Bahamas for the first seven months of flying until my vacation days arrived in February. I planned a trip with a friend and she was unable to go so I boldly did it on my own. I went to Costa Rica and discovered not only the love of surfing, zip lining, and exploring but also myself. I found out how great it was to do what I wanted, and not to be pressured into drinking if I didn’t want or to take a nap any damn time I pleased. This enlightenment in itself was my big life change.
In June right after my dad’s passing the world finally opened up for me. I was finally an international flight attendant. The destinations and experiences happened over and over again much to my delight. I continued to nurture my boldness of exploring on my own. I even took off to Prague for a long weekend because my roommate was bugging the shit out of me.
I still planned my pilgrimage in February and met…you guessed it, Turiya in Bali. I went there with the intention of spirituality; she came with the intention of getting hammered. We met somewhere in the middle. I followed in the footsteps of Liz Gilbert and found a peace from the horrible month I lived through prior. When I came home the life change was already in place. I decided to stay in New York and not let it make me weak. I stayed and fought already and the holiday was just my reward.
And here I am this year. It is February 6th, 2009. I have already gone to Panama, the only life decision I made there was to never go back and thank god for my intelligence. Hawaii with Carol lies before me Monday and then Dubai with...Turiya. Tomorrow morning is also staring me in the face. I know there will be a decision or two or three which will demand attention soon.
Can I figure them out or will take more years of reflection?
Maybe it is Turiya who is my oracle...
panama, still una persona
Panama day 2
My friend Jim had to get some things done so he sent me off on a journey around the city. I had to get a cab to take me to the Canal de Panama. I was instructed to say the full name as they may not know what I was referring to if I just said canal. I was also given a figure to pay as well as instructions to figure out if the cab driver was legit or wanted to rob me. (the license plate number should match the number on the side of the door) After an hour in traffic and weaving in and out of neighborhoods while I watched cautiously we made it to the canal. I made it just in time to watch the last ship passing through for the morning. It is a pretty awesome thing to think about. I was standing in South America watching a huge tanker pass through two continents in this man made canal. The logistics of it as learned bilingually as well as with a short film are pretty damn intriguing.
After my millions of pictures I headed over to Casa Vallejo to wander about. Again I had to haggle with my cabbie and the area to get to where I was supposed to be was super sketchy. I kept murmuring, "please don't' let me out here, please don't' let me out here". There area was nice and I wondered around and snapped some photos before I realized I needed to head back to meet Jim.
Our evening in short:
picked up his friend and his Colombian girlfriend
took them to the airport and discussed his next girlfriend's visit
ate dinner at a nice Italian restaurant
we were served last because we were white, I didn't' mind because I ordered a 1/2 liter of wine
headed to a cigar bar
smoked Cuban cigars and drank Cuban beer
watched prostitutes pick up old white men
headed home with no prostitute
Day 3
Jim had to go back to the states and I decided to take a bus out to the beach. Sounds simple enough right? This is Panama were talking about though. My hour bus ride turned into eternity. At hour two we stopped at a road side cafe. I was not only the only English speaker on the bus but also the only person by myself. The bus driver stood up and said something about "an hour". Others got off the bus and wandered in. I looked around and decided to join the crowd towards the bathroom. When I get out I find everyone hoovering around a counter getting soda and pringles. I stand back to watch the scene. As everyone settles down to their individual table I walk up to the counter to see what the deal was.
Options:
6 different kinds of soda (these people live for sugar)
2 types of Gatorade
coffee (it is 100 degrees out)
beer
large cans of pringles...two flavors red or green.
Everyone in the room is eating chips and I all I could think about is my distaste for pringles and why the bus driver thinks it will take an hour to do this activity.
Luckily I am sitting next to the bus at my table for one when everyone gets up and gets back on the bus. Another hour in our drive (makes much more sense) and we arrive at the resort. Not the resort I am staying at, no I have to take a taxi ten minutes away to get to mine.
Playa Blanca is a nice little place. It reminds me of the inclusive resort I stayed in PV with Nichole and Janene. It was nice to catch up on my reading and lay in the sun. What wasn't so nice is to have to answer all the questions posed to me with,
"una persona, si".
My friend Jim had to get some things done so he sent me off on a journey around the city. I had to get a cab to take me to the Canal de Panama. I was instructed to say the full name as they may not know what I was referring to if I just said canal. I was also given a figure to pay as well as instructions to figure out if the cab driver was legit or wanted to rob me. (the license plate number should match the number on the side of the door) After an hour in traffic and weaving in and out of neighborhoods while I watched cautiously we made it to the canal. I made it just in time to watch the last ship passing through for the morning. It is a pretty awesome thing to think about. I was standing in South America watching a huge tanker pass through two continents in this man made canal. The logistics of it as learned bilingually as well as with a short film are pretty damn intriguing.
After my millions of pictures I headed over to Casa Vallejo to wander about. Again I had to haggle with my cabbie and the area to get to where I was supposed to be was super sketchy. I kept murmuring, "please don't' let me out here, please don't' let me out here". There area was nice and I wondered around and snapped some photos before I realized I needed to head back to meet Jim.
Our evening in short:
picked up his friend and his Colombian girlfriend
took them to the airport and discussed his next girlfriend's visit
ate dinner at a nice Italian restaurant
we were served last because we were white, I didn't' mind because I ordered a 1/2 liter of wine
headed to a cigar bar
smoked Cuban cigars and drank Cuban beer
watched prostitutes pick up old white men
headed home with no prostitute
Day 3
Jim had to go back to the states and I decided to take a bus out to the beach. Sounds simple enough right? This is Panama were talking about though. My hour bus ride turned into eternity. At hour two we stopped at a road side cafe. I was not only the only English speaker on the bus but also the only person by myself. The bus driver stood up and said something about "an hour". Others got off the bus and wandered in. I looked around and decided to join the crowd towards the bathroom. When I get out I find everyone hoovering around a counter getting soda and pringles. I stand back to watch the scene. As everyone settles down to their individual table I walk up to the counter to see what the deal was.
Options:
6 different kinds of soda (these people live for sugar)
2 types of Gatorade
coffee (it is 100 degrees out)
beer
large cans of pringles...two flavors red or green.
Everyone in the room is eating chips and I all I could think about is my distaste for pringles and why the bus driver thinks it will take an hour to do this activity.
Luckily I am sitting next to the bus at my table for one when everyone gets up and gets back on the bus. Another hour in our drive (makes much more sense) and we arrive at the resort. Not the resort I am staying at, no I have to take a taxi ten minutes away to get to mine.
Playa Blanca is a nice little place. It reminds me of the inclusive resort I stayed in PV with Nichole and Janene. It was nice to catch up on my reading and lay in the sun. What wasn't so nice is to have to answer all the questions posed to me with,
"una persona, si".
03 February 2009
una persona, si´
Well it was Panama that won the earlier battle of places to go. It started off as one of those trips.
Day uno
I hailed a cab on the way out the door but him dicking around costs me to miss the bus at 0630 so I waited around Port Authority unitl 0700. Once we got to the terminal, police had it blocked off for some reason. Finally at the gate, my boarding pass won´t print so I go up to the desk amist chaos that is Latin America travel and get my passport checked and a boarding card. I glance at the seat number and jockeyed for postion as these people like to bring everything not nailed down onto the plane with them. I am all settled in my seat and some guy claims I am in is seat. I look at my card to discover they gave me the incorrect slip. Shit! They were about to close the door and there I stood without a seat. It was rectivied quickly and I was then placed in 12A. The deadheading captain was in 12C and found it necessary to ask the same montanous questions every crew member asks. I answered politely but briefly and finally gave him the stink eye when he started insulting Oregon. I wake up to find a very tall Dutch man next to me and then he proceeds to talk to me even though I have my paper in hand.
I arrive and wait for my friend Jim where he told me to. He drives quickly into town as he has found a Superbowl party for us to attend per my request. We stop for a quick bit and then head over to some penthouse. We arrive and this guy answers the door. A tight fitting tee shirt and silver ¨gun¨ shaped belt buckle. He informs us that everyone just left and we missed the party. It is 2:30 and I find this strange. We head home then to change as we are going to watch the game at a casino now. We make a stop at the friends house who invited us to see what was up. He told us we missed one hell of a party as there was a live sex show on the pool table. I replied that doesn´t have anything to do with the Superbowl. We make it to the casino and order some beers. I have to explain not only the game but how betting on squares works to my friend. I am watching the game, commericals, and the women trying to prostitute themselves all at the same time. Girls are running around in heels and super tight clothing. I don´t get it, I tell Jim who wears high heels to watch football? He explains to me as he motions to my reefs (with the beer bottle opener on bottom) that women are women down here and I am some kind of a man. Whatever, I reply and take swig of beer.
On the way home there was some sort of traffic jam. The Panamanians didn´t seem to mind as they turned up the music, left the cars and started dancing. They all walked to the trunks and retrived beers from coolers. I am cracking up as Jim explains, this is just what they do. I tried to picture New York traffic jams as parties.
Day uno
I hailed a cab on the way out the door but him dicking around costs me to miss the bus at 0630 so I waited around Port Authority unitl 0700. Once we got to the terminal, police had it blocked off for some reason. Finally at the gate, my boarding pass won´t print so I go up to the desk amist chaos that is Latin America travel and get my passport checked and a boarding card. I glance at the seat number and jockeyed for postion as these people like to bring everything not nailed down onto the plane with them. I am all settled in my seat and some guy claims I am in is seat. I look at my card to discover they gave me the incorrect slip. Shit! They were about to close the door and there I stood without a seat. It was rectivied quickly and I was then placed in 12A. The deadheading captain was in 12C and found it necessary to ask the same montanous questions every crew member asks. I answered politely but briefly and finally gave him the stink eye when he started insulting Oregon. I wake up to find a very tall Dutch man next to me and then he proceeds to talk to me even though I have my paper in hand.
I arrive and wait for my friend Jim where he told me to. He drives quickly into town as he has found a Superbowl party for us to attend per my request. We stop for a quick bit and then head over to some penthouse. We arrive and this guy answers the door. A tight fitting tee shirt and silver ¨gun¨ shaped belt buckle. He informs us that everyone just left and we missed the party. It is 2:30 and I find this strange. We head home then to change as we are going to watch the game at a casino now. We make a stop at the friends house who invited us to see what was up. He told us we missed one hell of a party as there was a live sex show on the pool table. I replied that doesn´t have anything to do with the Superbowl. We make it to the casino and order some beers. I have to explain not only the game but how betting on squares works to my friend. I am watching the game, commericals, and the women trying to prostitute themselves all at the same time. Girls are running around in heels and super tight clothing. I don´t get it, I tell Jim who wears high heels to watch football? He explains to me as he motions to my reefs (with the beer bottle opener on bottom) that women are women down here and I am some kind of a man. Whatever, I reply and take swig of beer.
On the way home there was some sort of traffic jam. The Panamanians didn´t seem to mind as they turned up the music, left the cars and started dancing. They all walked to the trunks and retrived beers from coolers. I am cracking up as Jim explains, this is just what they do. I tried to picture New York traffic jams as parties.
31 January 2009
took my meat out on the town
After concluding I wouldn't be bothered by scheduling yesterday, I took the C train down to 23rd and walked east. I was picking up a couple of items for invitation making and it was a nice day to walked for hours. I determined through my walking around the city that I would adore a nice dinner and more over a little boast to my ego. I came home and got ready and headed over to Sparks. I love that I walk in and the mat'rade knows me, he kisses me on the cheek and tells me to wait a moment. I am escorted to the bar for a glass of wine. When I am ready to eat, I am given a private table in the corner and everyone comes by to check on my needs. I order a steak and broccoli to accompany my wine. It is good but way to much and ask to package up the rest. Dessert and coffee come out compliments of the house and I was smart enough to save room. It is only nine at this time and I have some time to kill before I go dancing. I was just in that mood last night, looking for trouble mood. I walk seventeen blocks down to Brother Jimmy's and thought it would be a nice gesture to give my remaining left overs to a homeless person. I didn't see any. So I took my steak to Brother Jimmys for a few cocktails. I can never visit and just have one, the bartenders, managers, and other patrons just won't allow it. I stayed until 11:30 and then hopped in a cab over to 1OAK. Still looking for someone to unload the steak on with no success. I checked my coat and explained my steak to the coat check person who actually charged me for the honor of hanging it next to my coat. No tip for her. I check out the place which is new to me and within five minutes someone has ordered me a drink. He tried to kiss me too in the first five minutes and I just laughed at him. I mingled with a few people and then found someone fun to dance with. At 3:00 I decided to call it a night so I gather up my coat and steak and walked east to Cafeteria. I am not sure that I was hungry but it seemed like a tradition especially being so close. I waited at the bar and drank water, my friend Paul from Oregon was working so I gave him a shout out. Some gay boys were asking my opinion about things and telling me how much they adore me. Love it! I sat down and ordered the usual for me nothing for my steak though. As I was leaving I went up to give a smooch to Paul and tell him good bye. I hailed a cab home and don't remember washing my face or climbing into bed but I did both successfully.
When I got up I facebooked Paul to apologize about all the kisses and found my steak in the fridge.
The steak I ate for dinner and got this message from Paul...
"Haha! Funny thing about that...you kissed my coworker Matt who was quite surprised to say the least. He came up to me and said "I think I got something that was meant for you." Maybe next time..."
When I got up I facebooked Paul to apologize about all the kisses and found my steak in the fridge.
The steak I ate for dinner and got this message from Paul...
"Haha! Funny thing about that...you kissed my coworker Matt who was quite surprised to say the least. He came up to me and said "I think I got something that was meant for you." Maybe next time..."
30 January 2009
too many choices
There is such a thing as too many options. I sit here two days prior to my month of leave from the airlines, from their daily control, from the insanity which they bestow on me. When I first visualized this epic month, I broke it down into fours: a week serving and making my rent, a week with Carol on our girl's holiday, a week of dog walking, and a week of a fabulous me holiday. Well old life sure has a way of saying "fuck you" when you have perfect plans. My plan to waitress all week has been shot by the economy and the fact that no one wants to give up their shifts. This tragedy has been going on for sometime as I haven't worked since December. It would be okay for me to hang out in NYC for a week to see if by the off chance someone may need me but that is what I have been doing for the last month and I am at the edge of insanity and five pounds heavier. So plans changed to go somewhere for that week instead.
I have the rest of my month nailed down as follows:
8th-14th Hawaii with Carol
15th-20th Dubai
20th-22nd Barcelona
24th-3rd dog walking and oh-happy-day house sitting!
So this first week is the one giving me issues. And it is not like I haven't had some good offers, I was offered to meet a friend in Vietnam. It looked as though it was going to work out with flights and everything until I double checked on visas. Damn it! It takes four to five business days to get a visa and of course I found out about this offer Friday evening and I left for Colorado on Sunday. The only chance I had was to go and sweet talk the embassy yesterday morning when they opened but no, had airport alert at an inappropriate time.
Sidenote: I almost ended up going to Panama City yesterday which oddly enough is one of my other options.
My other offer was to go to Copenhagen for a couple of days starting on Monday. This would give me the chance to watch the Superbowl at home with some friends and get me back on the 5th. Upsides: meeting a physical need which has been met in a really long time and I would have a free place to stay. Downsides: I have already been there, it's cold, and there is not much to do.
Option three: Turiya is operating the inaugural flight to Sydney next week. I could very easily hop my way over there and it would make perfect sense to say over there in the Pacific and then meet Carol in Hawaii. However, I have two commitments here on the 7th.
Option four: Going to Panama City. A friend of mine is down there as we speak and I can stay with him for a couple of days. Then he heads back to Houston. I am not sure if I can stay longer at his place but his emails are not looking that way. I am sure I can find a cheap hotel and come back on Friday. This seems like the best option as I could get grounded in the city and then be set free. It is also very warm and I could master not eating so much to stay warm and work on my base tan for Hawaii. The downside is the unsure of what to do down there and I would have to fly out Sunday. I was promised I could watch the SuperBowl but it's in Spanish which is fine for the game but I am sure the legendary commericals will be lost on me.
I am on call right now and don't think I will be used for the rest of the day or tomorrow so I kind of want to get a head start on things. But where do I want to go?
There are many other options, hell, I have the whole world at my fingertips.
I just have to choose.
My mind is spinning around the globe.
Where do I want to go?
And how important is this commitment on the 7th?
I have the rest of my month nailed down as follows:
8th-14th Hawaii with Carol
15th-20th Dubai
20th-22nd Barcelona
24th-3rd dog walking and oh-happy-day house sitting!
So this first week is the one giving me issues. And it is not like I haven't had some good offers, I was offered to meet a friend in Vietnam. It looked as though it was going to work out with flights and everything until I double checked on visas. Damn it! It takes four to five business days to get a visa and of course I found out about this offer Friday evening and I left for Colorado on Sunday. The only chance I had was to go and sweet talk the embassy yesterday morning when they opened but no, had airport alert at an inappropriate time.
Sidenote: I almost ended up going to Panama City yesterday which oddly enough is one of my other options.
My other offer was to go to Copenhagen for a couple of days starting on Monday. This would give me the chance to watch the Superbowl at home with some friends and get me back on the 5th. Upsides: meeting a physical need which has been met in a really long time and I would have a free place to stay. Downsides: I have already been there, it's cold, and there is not much to do.
Option three: Turiya is operating the inaugural flight to Sydney next week. I could very easily hop my way over there and it would make perfect sense to say over there in the Pacific and then meet Carol in Hawaii. However, I have two commitments here on the 7th.
Option four: Going to Panama City. A friend of mine is down there as we speak and I can stay with him for a couple of days. Then he heads back to Houston. I am not sure if I can stay longer at his place but his emails are not looking that way. I am sure I can find a cheap hotel and come back on Friday. This seems like the best option as I could get grounded in the city and then be set free. It is also very warm and I could master not eating so much to stay warm and work on my base tan for Hawaii. The downside is the unsure of what to do down there and I would have to fly out Sunday. I was promised I could watch the SuperBowl but it's in Spanish which is fine for the game but I am sure the legendary commericals will be lost on me.
I am on call right now and don't think I will be used for the rest of the day or tomorrow so I kind of want to get a head start on things. But where do I want to go?
There are many other options, hell, I have the whole world at my fingertips.
I just have to choose.
My mind is spinning around the globe.
Where do I want to go?
And how important is this commitment on the 7th?
27 January 2009
colorado
I am sitting at a beautiful counter top trying to keep my sanity while looking after a five and an eleven year old. Clearly this is not the holiday I had planned. I came out to Colorado and attempted to see everyone while here while also being an accommodating to the those who are giving me a ride around the area.
Sunday I arrived after we had to abort our first approach and circle while it cleared up. The second try was successful and I was watching with a little of tenseness after listening to the flight attendant describe the approach which had to be done with such exactness a faction of a mistake would wide us up in the side of the mountain. It was the first time more than one person has ever met me at the airport and it was so great to see my girls waiting to pick me up. We went and met her hubby and some other friends had some nachos and brews and then headed home. Her place is a lodge like house sat in front of the backdrop of the mountains.
The next day we hit the slopes of Snowmass in Aspen and it was a picture perfect day for skiing. I haven't been on skis in years. It is amazing how we let fear take over when we are adults. I started down the bunny slope and realized I remembered how to do this. We jumped on the gondola and headed up..and up. I was staring down and the fear took over. There is only one way down, did I remember how to stop? Crap, what am I doing? I was doing okay until I reached a blue hill and I went into panic mood. I finally just went for it and ended up crashing because I was going too fast for my liking so I just sat down. I counted the pieces, two skis still attached and one pole...shit! I look up the hill and five feet up was the other pole. I tried to side step and get it but gravity was my enemy. I took off my skis and walked up there. I got my feet back underneath me and continued down. That was my only fall all day. We did five runs and I loved every minute of it as the snow hit against my face and my confidence grew.
We came home to dinner and hung out.
Today we were supposed to go to Vail but things didn't seem to click into place so here I am in this gorgeous home while Hilary is with her horse, Mike is at work and I have a new memory for birth control.
Sunday I arrived after we had to abort our first approach and circle while it cleared up. The second try was successful and I was watching with a little of tenseness after listening to the flight attendant describe the approach which had to be done with such exactness a faction of a mistake would wide us up in the side of the mountain. It was the first time more than one person has ever met me at the airport and it was so great to see my girls waiting to pick me up. We went and met her hubby and some other friends had some nachos and brews and then headed home. Her place is a lodge like house sat in front of the backdrop of the mountains.
The next day we hit the slopes of Snowmass in Aspen and it was a picture perfect day for skiing. I haven't been on skis in years. It is amazing how we let fear take over when we are adults. I started down the bunny slope and realized I remembered how to do this. We jumped on the gondola and headed up..and up. I was staring down and the fear took over. There is only one way down, did I remember how to stop? Crap, what am I doing? I was doing okay until I reached a blue hill and I went into panic mood. I finally just went for it and ended up crashing because I was going too fast for my liking so I just sat down. I counted the pieces, two skis still attached and one pole...shit! I look up the hill and five feet up was the other pole. I tried to side step and get it but gravity was my enemy. I took off my skis and walked up there. I got my feet back underneath me and continued down. That was my only fall all day. We did five runs and I loved every minute of it as the snow hit against my face and my confidence grew.
We came home to dinner and hung out.
Today we were supposed to go to Vail but things didn't seem to click into place so here I am in this gorgeous home while Hilary is with her horse, Mike is at work and I have a new memory for birth control.
23 January 2009
pants or jeans to be more spefic
While re-telling a conversation to Nichole which transpired between Jim and myself she asked my about "7's".
I was dating this guy Jay for a hot minute and when I ended it, I simply let him know that we were not a good emotional match. He told me he didn't know what that meant; so I used the analogy of when people date it is like trying on clothes (this is stolen from Sleepless in Seattle if you are keeping track). Sometimes they there are too tight and restricting, sometimes they almost fit but need some adjustments, and sometimes they are not even taken off the hanger.
Jim was right on the ball when I was explaining my theory. He choose to narrow it down to just pants because they have to fit just so. I agreed that you just don't feel good about yourself until you have the perfect pants. He laughed and then called me "pant-less" the rest of the day.
The story now laid out to Nichole and she asked me as we were riding the elevator upstairs to the shoe department of Nordstroms. I explained to her that I wanted my Armani jeans I had bought in Rome. The jeans that fit amazing in the waist that sits just right on my hips, the legs are the perfect length for heels but not too long for flats, the butt always looks good. I feel amazing when I wear these jeans.
"What about 7's?" she asks.
My second pair of 7 jeans used to be my favorite and they are my go-to jeans for going out and when I want to feel good running errands around the city. In fact I am wearing them right now. I have gained some winter weight due to my lack of activity combined with my wanting of comfort food. These jeans don't judge me for the extra 5 pounds they just stretch to make it all seem okay. They are comfortable and reliable. I am disappointed when they are dirty and I have to go to other jeans. They dress up, they dress down. I love them. But not as much as I love how I feel when I wear those Armani's. You can buy 7's anywhere, they look good on almost everyone. I only know of a few places to buy the others. That perfect fit I am still looking for in a date.
I was dating this guy Jay for a hot minute and when I ended it, I simply let him know that we were not a good emotional match. He told me he didn't know what that meant; so I used the analogy of when people date it is like trying on clothes (this is stolen from Sleepless in Seattle if you are keeping track). Sometimes they there are too tight and restricting, sometimes they almost fit but need some adjustments, and sometimes they are not even taken off the hanger.
Jim was right on the ball when I was explaining my theory. He choose to narrow it down to just pants because they have to fit just so. I agreed that you just don't feel good about yourself until you have the perfect pants. He laughed and then called me "pant-less" the rest of the day.
The story now laid out to Nichole and she asked me as we were riding the elevator upstairs to the shoe department of Nordstroms. I explained to her that I wanted my Armani jeans I had bought in Rome. The jeans that fit amazing in the waist that sits just right on my hips, the legs are the perfect length for heels but not too long for flats, the butt always looks good. I feel amazing when I wear these jeans.
"What about 7's?" she asks.
My second pair of 7 jeans used to be my favorite and they are my go-to jeans for going out and when I want to feel good running errands around the city. In fact I am wearing them right now. I have gained some winter weight due to my lack of activity combined with my wanting of comfort food. These jeans don't judge me for the extra 5 pounds they just stretch to make it all seem okay. They are comfortable and reliable. I am disappointed when they are dirty and I have to go to other jeans. They dress up, they dress down. I love them. But not as much as I love how I feel when I wear those Armani's. You can buy 7's anywhere, they look good on almost everyone. I only know of a few places to buy the others. That perfect fit I am still looking for in a date.
22 January 2009
how much more?
I am losing grip on my sanity. It has been 18 days since i was a flight attendant, six weeks since I have been a waitress, and gratefully only three hours since I have been a dog walker. I live under the control of scheduling these days and unlike the two months prior I am not a call out line which means they can call me 24 hours a day and give me two hours to be at the airport. My bags are already packed and my uniform hanging in the closet dressed with wings. That is good common practice for me, but I know that I am not going to go anywhere. At best I may be given airport alert and sent home after my duty day. There are no trips for reserves these days. All of my friends are sitting around as well. It sucks also because no one is giving up waitressing shifts and the couple I have been asked about I couldn't commit until the last minute and by then they were gone. It is a maddening cycle actually. Last Friday I thought it would be good fun to start drinking every night. Seeing how I don't get out of bed until 1200 these days, why not? For a period of fives days this was a fabulous idea, drink every night and sleep all day. Once I would get up I would walk to Starbucks, and come back to my "make-shift" office at the dinning room table and play on the computer. I will have to say I am being a bit constructive with designing things and do travel research but still...goofing off is a better term. I do this until 1800 or so when my roommate comes home and then I head out the door. He is a little ADD and is a nerd in the nicest respect of the word. He never goes anywhere and makes dinner at 2300 almost every night. We have polite conversation while the two dogs jump around and then I find a way to end it so I can go into my room and make a game plan for the evening. Tonight I don't have the energy to brave the cold and sit at a bar. Tonight I sit here and wonder if I can go to bed by ten and actually sleep. Sleep and not have nightmares or wake up with my head spinning in circles.
19 January 2009
whole foods dinner
I am having dinner at Whole Foods for the second time this week; I am wondering if I am drawn here because it's a piece of home. I sat at the end of a high bar communal table and placed my dinner out before me: salad, water, green tea, and key lime pie. A woman moves in such a dramatic fashion I can't help but to watch as she gathers her belongings from the next table to join mine. First placed down is her small salad and dessert containers then her coat, followed by an Evelyn and Crabtree bag. Her commotion cause my attention to fixate on her and her belongings. She sees this as an opportunity to talk. "Damn woman is talking about a delivery at a table we people eat" is her opening line. I looked at her with a puzzled look wondering what was so offensive about food delivery or perhaps a piece of furniture. I give her an understanding nod however. Sensibility took over and I realized she must have been referring to the birth of a child. Her eyes light up as she looks at my dessert, much like mine did while choosing it from the pastry case. Before both of us sits a perfect three inch in diameter key lime cheesecake with a lime at top waiting patiently in it's clear container for my consumption. While she comments on my choice, she holds up her mess of a dessert and proclaims it's tiramisu. She opens it up to have a bite before her dinner.
I continue to watch her a she wolfs down her food with no beverage in sight. She stops only to squirt some lotion onto a napkin and smell it. She has put her ipod in by this point and then proceeds to line up the C&E bags contents on the table before her. She removes price tags of each and stares at them devoting just a much time to last as to the first. Her hair is an over processed red and pulled back sloppily. The liner of her eyes picks up one of the many colors of her fleece vest which layers over another fleece.
My heart goes out to her because I can guess she is single and myabe alone in the city. She had the trademarks of being from the Northwest. Perhaps a young girl who came out to the big city to see what else there was in the world. She didn't leave in time. She becomes a flash of my future if I continue to eat dinner alone on Saturday night in New York City.
I continue to watch her a she wolfs down her food with no beverage in sight. She stops only to squirt some lotion onto a napkin and smell it. She has put her ipod in by this point and then proceeds to line up the C&E bags contents on the table before her. She removes price tags of each and stares at them devoting just a much time to last as to the first. Her hair is an over processed red and pulled back sloppily. The liner of her eyes picks up one of the many colors of her fleece vest which layers over another fleece.
My heart goes out to her because I can guess she is single and myabe alone in the city. She had the trademarks of being from the Northwest. Perhaps a young girl who came out to the big city to see what else there was in the world. She didn't leave in time. She becomes a flash of my future if I continue to eat dinner alone on Saturday night in New York City.
snow
It started off with a few flakes while I was in the UPS store giving in to paying someone to pack my TV. Now as I sit at my make-shift desk the flakes are in race to hit the ground and have grown substantially. I love the snow and more over how beautiful it makes the city. Everything slows down for a moment and even the oldest person stops and stares up for a moment. The ESB is no longer in my view but what replaces the usual view outside my window is perfect. I walk to the sliding glass door to look up and get lost in the magic.
15 January 2009
water landing
I am watching the news about the second plane crash in a month. I am looking at it from a flight attendant perspective. This was a water landing. They had time to plan the evacuation. It has shook me up, more than the rejected take off crash in Denver. This one landed in the ice cold Hudson in one piece. It was reported that both wings were on fire and the captain choose to land in the river versus the Bronx or Manhattan. Each crash is a learning experience. We are trained to react and place ourselves in the position of what if I was on that flight.
two-e
I am in a dating recession. Mostly because I am so damn picky and partly because I am not in the mood to play the game that goes along with the getting to know you week. The texts, calls, yada, yada. I also haven't been asked out in a while either so I said what the hell when I was given a business card on my flight to London.
We emailed back and forth with my trip to Portland and his to London in between when we actually met to when we arranged to meet up. I used Dave May's tactic of just communicating through email. I like it because I am not obligued to answer the phone or respond immediately as a text prompts.
We decided on a day and I let him pick the place as he would be coming from work and I would come from dog walking. He chose a place called Galway Hooker on 36th. Joy, same place Chris took me on our "turn around date" and first kissed me. Yes, I am familar with the place I say, what time would you like to meet? He tells me between 6:30 and 7:00. I look at the clock as I am leaving my place and send him a quick email that I will be closer to the later time but I am on my way. When I get out of the subway at 34th, I receive an email that he had just left the office. We should have showed up with in minutes of each other.
I arrive at 6:50 and make a pass through the bar. I didn't see him so I found a bar stool near the door and began to read "Home and Away" an Irish pub paper. I looked up every time the door opened and after a drink and twenty minutes I began to plan a place to take myself to dinner. The bartender came over and gave me another drink and a sympathic smile. It took me until 1935 to finish it and decide this is what I get for accepting a date from a guy who asked me for a massage on the airplane.
I exit the bar and walk west. He is standing there in thirty degree weather. "What are you doing?" He tells me that he waiting for me and thought he was being stood up. I explain to him I was waiting inside for him for a half an hour and now I am going to dinner. He said he emailed me and I showed him my phone to prove I hadn't received anything. He asks if he can buy me dinner and said yes, we are going Nobu. It is 21 blocks up and I started walking. He asked me if I had my eyebrow pierced,
which struck me as odd. This was the beginning of odd topics for the evening,
We make it to Nobu and ask for a table, we are kindly sat at the sushi bar (I would have scored a table). We order a few things and make small talk. I notice that he is talking quite a bit and I chalk it up to nervousness. He begins to tell me how much grain it takes to fed a cow till maturity. Mind you this guy is from NJ not Kansas, I am not sure where he got this information or why he is telling me. I respond that I like veal best and they don't take as much grain because they are killed as babies.
We finish up dinner and he wants dessert. He wants ice cream to be more specific. Fine I will walk with you to get ice cream. We walk and walk and find nothing but I do point him to a deli which has good cheesecake. He orders a slice and I order coffee counting the seconds until the end of the date. I have given up talking or trying to tell any story what so ever because it interupted and then moved onto another subject. We talk about cooking briefly and I started to tell my troubles find enchillada sauce in the city. The subject shifts suddenly to unions and people banging pots and pans. Yes, I was lost as well so I called it a night.
I told him I was taking the B uptown and going home when I was really heading over to BJ's to meet Beth. Well he decides to go the same stop but downtown. So we walk through the turn stiles me cursing him for following me as I was just going to pretend to go down and then catch a cab east bound. He is on the upper level and I need the lower level. I give him a hug good night and walk down the stairs. Mind you I am wearing a bright pink jacket so I can't just walk back up the stairs and leave. My train comes first so I take it to the next stop and grab my cab.
I am enjoying time with friends and recreating the date to their amusement when I get this email....
Subject line "did you..."
"Get home safe? I saw a huge rat on the staircase in the subway. It was kinda just hanging out. Strange. Figured I’d make sure you got on your train and weren’t carried away but rabid rodents J
I had a nice time tonight. I’m going to go with Howard Stern as my celebrity. He talks about Nobu all the time on the radio so it will be totally believable!
I just emailed my mom about the east coast enchilada sauce mystery. I’ll keep you posted."
We emailed back and forth with my trip to Portland and his to London in between when we actually met to when we arranged to meet up. I used Dave May's tactic of just communicating through email. I like it because I am not obligued to answer the phone or respond immediately as a text prompts.
We decided on a day and I let him pick the place as he would be coming from work and I would come from dog walking. He chose a place called Galway Hooker on 36th. Joy, same place Chris took me on our "turn around date" and first kissed me. Yes, I am familar with the place I say, what time would you like to meet? He tells me between 6:30 and 7:00. I look at the clock as I am leaving my place and send him a quick email that I will be closer to the later time but I am on my way. When I get out of the subway at 34th, I receive an email that he had just left the office. We should have showed up with in minutes of each other.
I arrive at 6:50 and make a pass through the bar. I didn't see him so I found a bar stool near the door and began to read "Home and Away" an Irish pub paper. I looked up every time the door opened and after a drink and twenty minutes I began to plan a place to take myself to dinner. The bartender came over and gave me another drink and a sympathic smile. It took me until 1935 to finish it and decide this is what I get for accepting a date from a guy who asked me for a massage on the airplane.
I exit the bar and walk west. He is standing there in thirty degree weather. "What are you doing?" He tells me that he waiting for me and thought he was being stood up. I explain to him I was waiting inside for him for a half an hour and now I am going to dinner. He said he emailed me and I showed him my phone to prove I hadn't received anything. He asks if he can buy me dinner and said yes, we are going Nobu. It is 21 blocks up and I started walking. He asked me if I had my eyebrow pierced,
which struck me as odd. This was the beginning of odd topics for the evening,
We make it to Nobu and ask for a table, we are kindly sat at the sushi bar (I would have scored a table). We order a few things and make small talk. I notice that he is talking quite a bit and I chalk it up to nervousness. He begins to tell me how much grain it takes to fed a cow till maturity. Mind you this guy is from NJ not Kansas, I am not sure where he got this information or why he is telling me. I respond that I like veal best and they don't take as much grain because they are killed as babies.
We finish up dinner and he wants dessert. He wants ice cream to be more specific. Fine I will walk with you to get ice cream. We walk and walk and find nothing but I do point him to a deli which has good cheesecake. He orders a slice and I order coffee counting the seconds until the end of the date. I have given up talking or trying to tell any story what so ever because it interupted and then moved onto another subject. We talk about cooking briefly and I started to tell my troubles find enchillada sauce in the city. The subject shifts suddenly to unions and people banging pots and pans. Yes, I was lost as well so I called it a night.
I told him I was taking the B uptown and going home when I was really heading over to BJ's to meet Beth. Well he decides to go the same stop but downtown. So we walk through the turn stiles me cursing him for following me as I was just going to pretend to go down and then catch a cab east bound. He is on the upper level and I need the lower level. I give him a hug good night and walk down the stairs. Mind you I am wearing a bright pink jacket so I can't just walk back up the stairs and leave. My train comes first so I take it to the next stop and grab my cab.
I am enjoying time with friends and recreating the date to their amusement when I get this email....
Subject line "did you..."
"Get home safe? I saw a huge rat on the staircase in the subway. It was kinda just hanging out. Strange. Figured I’d make sure you got on your train and weren’t carried away but rabid rodents J
I had a nice time tonight. I’m going to go with Howard Stern as my celebrity. He talks about Nobu all the time on the radio so it will be totally believable!
I just emailed my mom about the east coast enchilada sauce mystery. I’ll keep you posted."
anywhere
I am looking for a box to ship my TV in. At first I thought I could just take it to Fed-ex and have them package it prior to shipping as it would be more insurable. I looked up the nearest Fed ex yesterday. Then wondered how I would make it ten blocks in Harlem while carrying a TV. It occurred to me to take a taxi from the apartment and it would be well worth the $5 and would save my sanity. Also knowing my luck, I did some research last night on how much it would cost to send it with my discount. I wrote down the phone number to inquire about preparations prior to my arrival. I am glad I called because I learned they couldn’t package things for me. I went downstairs to see if my doorman, Thomas had any ideas for me. He was busy so I went to grab a coffee and think the situation through. I decided that I would find an original box somewhere, more and likely Best Buy and take it to Fed ex via cab. I took a chance in asking Thomas if there were any spare TV boxes in the building. As we were walking down to the basement, I asked, “Do you ever think of how hard it is to get the simplest thing done in New York?” His response was perfect. “That’s why if you can make it here, you can make it anywhere.”
ordering coffee
I am standing in line at Starbucks the other morning. Okay is was after noon as I don't roll out of bed until then. The guy in front me orders a coffee. "Cream and sugar". The explanation comes from behind the counter that those things are put in by the customer but she would leave room for him.
I got his attention, "Can I ask you something?".
He looked shocked I was talking to him. "Um sure."
"When you are on an airplane, do you tell the flight attendant cream and sugar when you order a coffee?"
He paused for a moment and said yes.
His pause made me not believe he made this a practice.
"Why do you ask?"
"Well I am a flight attendant and it drives me crazy when passengers expect us to read their minds. You didn't expect that lady (motioning towards the bartista) to know how you liked your coffee."
"You're not from around here are you?"
I got his attention, "Can I ask you something?".
He looked shocked I was talking to him. "Um sure."
"When you are on an airplane, do you tell the flight attendant cream and sugar when you order a coffee?"
He paused for a moment and said yes.
His pause made me not believe he made this a practice.
"Why do you ask?"
"Well I am a flight attendant and it drives me crazy when passengers expect us to read their minds. You didn't expect that lady (motioning towards the bartista) to know how you liked your coffee."
"You're not from around here are you?"
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)