ENOUGH

I work in a pretty small office. It is is so small that you can literally hear what each of my six co-workers are doing and talking about at each moment of the day. Today, the two big bosses are out of the office, so I guess three of us have the luxury to pudder a bit of the time away. I have been doing personal stuff, like getting my bills organized and done, catching up on emails etc. E, as far as I can see, has been doing a bit of work, reading news and blogs, and talking with friends on gchat. And then you got JC who has been, so it sounds like, cleaning her desk, ripping and shredding boxes and papers, and taping things. Not the favorite thing to listen to, hence the conversation today:

E: JC is moving around a lot and its making me nervous. STOP MOVING
me: hahahah ripping and taping ENOUGH
E: I DON'T LIKE THIS! Now she's sweeping?
me: Please unleash. Sweeping?
E: Why can't ppl just sit still?
me: The carpet?
E: I hate when ppl can't stop moving.
me: Dude seriously I hear her too.
E: Now she wrestling with boxes!
me: Enough JC
E: Again with the tape! No more!
me: And kick kick
E: I think I may have to tape her to her chair
me: Dude is she like wrapping xmas presents?
E: OH MY GOD I AM FREAKING OUT
me: Dude seriously? REALLY? WHAT THE HELL
me: ENOUGH JC SIT DOWN OMG tell her to stop please squirt squirt, scissor moving, crinkle, rip, paper bag moved UGH drop, slam omg omg I can't
E: I'M TEARING UP I can't take it
Emily: I may have to go for a walk until she's done
me: STOP RIPPING
E: Why is she cleaning? Who cares?
me: I just saw u glare! Please, what the HELLwhat is she doing? Scratching a mini chalk board?
E: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I just bit myself
me: I know I saw haha
E: sprtiz spritz
me: Shuffle
E: Ha my desk is so dirty
me: Phone downdrop
E: hahaha
me: Silence! She doesn't speak so she's making it up by being god awful loud??

Wah wah wah

So it appears that now I openly cry in public. ARE U KIDDING ME. Oh it's bad.

It all began about a few weeks ago when I started reading the book, "Strange Days: My Life With & Without Jim Morrison", by Patricia Kenneally, his wife. The book, by the way, was absolutely amazing. She wrote the most beautiful and heart breaking memoir that I have ever read. It was so honest and the way she spoke of their love made me cry. And where do I usually read you ask? Um. Usually en route on the train or bus going, coming, and everything in between. It came to a point where I ached to read, but at the same time anticipated and feared the emotional drainage that I was about to endure.

Imagine its a Sunday evening and your riding the train back home after a long weekend. While contently listening to your ipod and reviewing the awesome weekend , you do a double of the girl sitting across the way --- is she crying while clutching to a book? Yes. That was me. I'd read and then reflect on my life. Oh god. Am I losing my mind? Perhaps.

The book ended, so I thought I would have some public peace for a bit. Um no. Then there was last night.

I went out to happy hour (pictures to come soon) which turned into happy night, with E & her friend Chris. We were talking about life, goals, dreams, drive, passion (all of which are never good to talk about after 2 glasses of wine, shots of vodka, car bombs, and perhaps 3 vodka clubs....how the hell are we alive and functioning today?) Earlier in the happy hour, I was ranting about my job and how it's not fulfilling or interesting or challenging and so on, so I was already bubbling with life's work wah wahs. Chris asked us:

"So what are your passions? What is your dream job?"

I remain silent because honestly, I have no idea. How do you pin-point a passion? I don't know if I have one. There is nothing in life I get super sick over doing and not doing. I have things I like. Things I love. But. That passion sickness. I really don't know about that. I would assume if you had a passion, it's not something to dig deep within to find.

I let E answer and hope that maybe we change the subject.

"Kristine, how about you?"
I reply with a question hoping we push the conversation aside.

But noooooooooo. He kept egging me on and apparently the only way to remedy the situation was to cry? Really? I start talking about music and lack of passion and what I do during the day is not even mildly interesting, blahgitty blah blah. I'm sure I talked about my job robbing me of my youth...Kept on going on and on, tears here and there.
It was a mortifying sight.

Moral of the story: hmmmm....

(A) I'm assuming I should seek pychiatric help

(B) NEVER talk too deeply at happy hour. Well. I'm sorry, lets re-word that. Lets not talk too deeply about one's goals and job at happy hour.

Obviously there is lack of content at the office if we are all fleeing to the bars after work.

(C) If you want to talk to me deeply at happy hour, lets talk about spirituality or personal growth. Traveling. Our favorite books or something. Come on. Work. No thanks. I can't. Unless you want to make me randomnly cry or something.
Ugh really?

Bag Karma

For the next 21 days, I will be back and forth from Middletown a considerable amount because my parents are enjoying the world (well actually Sri Lanka and India. But come on, lucky lucky lucky). I promised them that on the weekends I'd stop in and check on the house and hangout with cats. In our crazy animal-owning minds, our cats will feel abandoned and run away to find new families. Seriously. I got panicked thinking of our cat Thorsten being devastated thinking we left him, being forced back on the streets.

So today was just like any other day walking to work except for one thing: I was the ultimate bag lady. Not the stylish traveler with the matching luggage and sleek bags. Oh no no, not me. I looked like a random homeless person with her plastic Macy's bag filled to the cusp of random stuff, a blue and white beach bag, my usual work bag, and a dress that I picked up from the dry cleaners on the way. I'm going to a wedding on Saturday and the dress I wanted to wear I also wore on New Year's Eve. I took a peek at it earlier this week to see if it needed a washing and so it appears that there was ketchup all over the front.... I'm guessing from my snack I made myself at the end of the night. Class act over here, awesome.

So I started my trek to the bus and later Port Authority and I was a disaster. I was literally falling all over the place, dropping my bags, the dry cleaning blowing in the breeze and to my horror, realized that the beach bag, which was filled with laundry, had a bra on the top, peeking out for all the world to see.

So the karma of it all you ask? I generally hate all people who have more than one bag and walk all drunkenly-discombobulated, which is what I was today. OF COURSE I was stuck behind the old man with a limp or maybe fake leg the entire walk to work. Why not? And it wasn't even like I could get around him to gracefully maneuver a la frogger thru the crowds. Hence, now my shoulders hurt and I dread the trip back to Mtown.

The Cultural New Me!

One of my big New Year's Resolutions is to really take advantage of all the great free cultural happenings that are literally happening everyday in NYC. I feel like I've gotten myself stuck in a rut of going to work, going home, having something to eat, going out for a bit too long , yadda yadda yadda, go home go to bed, and repeat.

So this year, on top of get in awesome shape, improving my vocabulary (my word of the day is upbraid, thank you dictionary.com) and travel more, I am going to try to get to more events, book readings, signings, art gallery openings, etc.

Last night, I got to work on my resolution and well, knowing myself and my friends, wound up being just as I would have imagined.

Last Wednesday-ish, my friend E sent a link my way for a book reading / signing down at McNally/Robinson's (an independent bookstore) featuring the author Rob Sheffield who wrote "Love Is A Mix Tape". I didn't actually read it yet, but it looked good and the story sounded interesting, so why not?

So after work, Nina, Mary, and I headed out into the cold to the book signing.

Around 5:30 we met in Union Square, and after Nina's demand of sushi, we went over to this place Japafonica (I'm guessing the wrong name of the restaurant, but whatever, I barely remember names of anywhere I go or people that I meet. Unless there is something so striking and I loved it or was something I super hated, my brain immediately discards all details).

We sat down, blah blah blah, took a look at the menu and it was....SUPER expensive. Like to the point of discouragement. Isn't the point of sushi to get a whole bunch of different things. The rainbow roll was like $25. Come on. I settled for a tuna roll, house salad, and steamed veggie gyoza, and the girls got a couple rolls. And obviously, a nice glass of wine.

We finished up, and then headed over to the bookstore.

I'm not going to get into the reading. It was your typical reading with a mixed audience of people who were so into themselves and seemed to have to compete with one another on who was the best well read and who was the quirkiest of them all. Then you had the people who didn't look artsy creative and obviously literally just came from work - and that would be us. I swear, walking in was sooo awkward and probably every eye in the room looked up at us a with a silent message of "ugh. what are they doing here?"

Regardless, good reading, a super hot possible Aussie dude gave me his business card, AND I got my book signed, which in my nervousness (I don't know why authors make me nervous) blurted out that I didn't read the book, that I was there because it sounded great, goodluck on the book tour, and a big overly excited Congratulations! And p.s. this was all being said with a creepster smile splashed across my face.

So good old responsible Mary waves goodbye and heads back to Jersey City, while Nina and I hop on the subway and head to the bar P.S. 450 (is that right?) which is owned by her bosses of the Volstead.

On the way, E calls, having finished drinks and appetizers with a friend, and she came to meet up a little while later.

Where do I begin to paint the story of this night?

P.S. and Volstead are owned by the same people that own Red and Downtown in Red Bank, so they all share kinda the similar theme. After ALL the time I spent at both places in RB, it kinda felt comfortable - creepily - familiar.

The place was a good crowded, meaning there were enough people to not feel wierd for being the only ones there, but not to the point of not being able to sit down or move about. The people were all around our age, a litle older,well dressed and businessed up. I felt super frumpy, wearing the scraps of my closet, due to the fact of not doing laundry for about three weeks. Earlier in the day, Nina was complaining about what she was wearing too, but then there she was looking cute in party shorts and boots and I immediately felt like a school teacher from the Midwest.

So we sat down with one of Nina's friends from the bar who worked there and just got off and started drinking. I guess fairly heavily because obviously we needed more and more wine and it wasn't Wednesday or anything. 20 minutes later , Nina started dancing and let me know that:

"If I had to kill you I would. I love you so much that I'd even eat you if I had to"

Thanks Nina.

Meanwhile, E was crowded around by two guys, one of which was there for Nina (someone she met while working and appeared to be cool), but he wasn't in the long run (this is being said me, not her. She still thinks he's a nice guy). I thought he was booooring and a creepster, so I spent the rest of the night bullshitting with Nina's work friend Robert. I apparently told him that I was actually a school teacher and probably based on my outfit, believed me (I later informed him I lied and he was actually surprised).

So for the rest of the night, this was how it was. Me bullshitting with Robert, E crowded, and Nina. Hmmm. Where was Nina? I think she was just taking dance laps around the bar stopping here and there talking to people who she knew.

I did appreciate the free drinks from the guys swarming E. I guess they were hoping that at least one of us would get drunk enought to go home with them. Sorry boys. You basically wasted your money on us because that definately wasn't going to happen. I would love to know, from the guys point of view, the motive of buying the shots. Is it to be a gentlemen, to get girls drunk, or simply to keep the energy level up? I know that when I buy people shots, its because I want to get them drunk (haha sorry) as well as keep the party going. But, as a guy. I wonder. Is the reasoning still the same?

All of a sudden it dawns on E and I that we actually have to be up early in the morning for work. Oh that's right. So we say our goodbyes (Nina opted to stay and hangout with work friends) and we somehow or another got back to Hoboken in one piece.

When I got home, I went to my room to put some comfortable clothes on. Um hello shorts that I wore to pilates the night earlier and a tank top that didn't really fit. Really? I opened the door to the apartment and a blast of smoke puffed into my face. Hmm. Who has been smoking in my apartment? It's new roommate Ben! Sitting alone at kitchen table , to my knowledge, drinking wine. I attempted to make small talk and bullshit with him, but high and/or drunk Ben was not having it. So in the weird awkward silence made myself a cup of tea, which I never drank, played with my other roommates kitten for a few minutes, and then off to bed I went.
7am.
8am
9am....a text to E saying, "Tell P Gold (my boss) I'll be there at 11".
9:30...threw uggs on and a sweatshirt and ran across the street to pick up 40 pounds of laundry (ahh the joy of having someone else wash and fold your laundry.
10:00....time to go to work.

Nights like that almost make up for the fact that the following morning was bleak and uncomfortable. I can only imagine where we will be going next..

2007 Sum Up

2007 have been one of the biggest years of my life. I always like to stop and think about where I was the year earlier and take the time to reflect on how far I came along since then or to catch the backwards slide that I may have endured. Regardless, around this time of year, its nice to stop and look back into the year and start thinking about the upcoming year and what you hope to accomplish.

Last year at this time, I had just graduated from college and took a few weeks to relax before I began to apply for jobs. I'm assuming I was just being a waitress, drinking heavily, living with my parents, and feeling very nervous/skeptical that I wasn't ever going to get a job. Based on my scrappy resume and non-existant experience in an office setting, I thought I was going to have to beg and plead someone to hire me.

2007 was huge because I officially began to live in my own life. I feel that until your financially independent or the very least, working at a real job and not having to superly depend on your parents, you are just a supporting character in their story You were created because of what path they chose once they were on their own. John and Karen (my parents) got married, had baby Kristine, moved baby and older sister Heidi out of Queens to Middletown, had baby Jason, raised the kids, watched them go to college and so on.

Now it is my life. Everything I do, I do because I want to. I have complete control of where I go and who I will someday grow to be.

This year I got my first real job. I learned how to work on hours that didn't run late into the night or include spilling fish sauce all over myself and customers (by accident, not on purpose of course). I have learned how to sit still for more than 15 minutes (which is amazing for me who has adhd tendencies), and really, I just embraced New York.

This year I moved to Hoboken, which has been an insane learning experience. After I got my job, knew right away I wanted to move to Hoboken. I went onto craigslist, found two girls looking for someone to fill their room, and that was that. The apartment is great, I really love it, but let me tell you, moving into a railroad style apartment with strangers is tough. Megan(my roommate) had to walk through my room to get to the rest of the place. For thr first two months, I was constantly on edge and tried to remain scarce. But eventually I got comfortable and now its greatt. I hate the idea of getting older, but as long as I know I have upgraded from the last year a bit, its not nearly so bad. So what do I hope for 2008?

The first thing was my living situation. I was not going to be a 25 year old living in a railroad apartment. I do want to focus on my writing more this year and attempt to do some freelance, so I need a desk and just a place where I have peace and privacy. Plus, what happens if 2008 brings the love of my life? I'll want him to spend the night and I'm sure Megan really doesn't want to walk in on me in the middle of something....

As it turns out, the gods were listening, and next thing I knew, I was being told that my roommate Joanne was moving out and that we'd need to find someone new. The first thing that popped into me mind was her HUGE room and I jumped on the opportunity. And let me tell you (because I'm sitting in here right now) the room is super large and beautiful and everything I could want. So right there. 2008 is going great.

I also hope to write. I feel that in 2007 I dribbled here and there but couldn't focus and make it the priority that I want it to be. So 2008 will include myself cutting back on going out as much and instead working on writing.

Other things include getting healthy and back into shape, paying off credit cards...etc etc. You know, the usual.

2007 was great Such a year of growth and change and I'm excited to see whats next.