The Adventures Of Kristine

Moving Right Along...

2008-10-09T08:11:00.000-07:00

Sorry to say, but I am abandoning this blog. I am bored with the layout and the fact that there is no creative flexibility. I just set up a new one on wordpress, here is the link, so go go go! Read!

http://theadventuresofkristine.wordpress.com/

As you can see, it's going to be the same content, but once I figure it all out, will have the freedom to make the page personalized and my very own.

Stay tuned : )

Happy Halloween....? Kinda.....

2008-10-07T06:57:00.000-07:00

Hmmmm. What part of "Hee Haw" screams Halloween? I literally just left my apartment this morning when I noticed it, did a double take, and HAD to go in for a closer look. I never realized that my next door were cowboys or some sort of a southern breed. Who else would think to carve "Hee Haw" in a pumpkin vs. a classic scary or silly face?

Fool Proof Way For Instant Chuckles:

2008-10-06T07:20:00.000-07:00

Run into Richard Simmons! Yes my friends, this picture to our right was pretty much the scene of the crime.

Last Friday, I was walking in Times Square on my way to work in a VERY foul mood. Why? I have no idea. Perhaps it was due to the upcoming slow day at work or maybe because I was tired and didn't feel like going in. Regardless, I was stomping quite a bit and wearing one of my very favorite pouts.

While looking around determining which would be the best path to take, as to avoid random gathered crowds and tourists, I had two routes. Either stampeding myself through a big group in front of ABC's Morning Show or through a mediocre crowd around someone. PSHH. It must be a D-list star who I wouldn't care to see or mind knocking over. At the same time, you know I'm also extremely nosey and needed to see who we were all crowded around. It was none other than Richard Simmons! Dancing! Shaking his hips and waving his jazz hands! And yelling all these incoherent things. It was wonderful and I immediately burst with laughter and smiled and snickered the entire way to work.

<3>

Not Fit For The Office

2008-09-29T12:00:00.000-07:00

Allegedly I NEVER dress appropriately at the office. Sure, I am aware that I dress on the casual side. There are a couple tattoos visible, wore colorful dresses and sandals all summer, and don't care to wear things that will make me miserable all day, but I thought that with an occasional mix of preppy-ness, overall I wasn't that bad.

Um yeah, apparently I have just been delusional.

This morning while rummaging through my "in between the seasons clothes", I came across this short sleeved black sweater with a little bit ruffled white collared short sleeve shirt underneath. I haven't worn it in a very long time. Well obviously. It's been summer. Anyway, I paired it up with a black skirt and black ballerina flats and headed out the door. While walking to work, I realized my poor edgy bob, who is in dire need of a cut, started to flip all over the place, so grabbed a head band out of my bag, and off I went. OK. I get it. Not my everyday style. For example, lets go back to perhaps Tuesday. I wore this wonderful, but odd, dress from Bali (was once my Granny's) with a little brown cardigan and brown boots. Or maybe we can take any old day when I add weird and colorful jewelry to an already overly bright ensemble. Basically, yeah, I guess today is not your typical Kristine. In my own defense, I thought I looked cute. But instead, completely freaked everyone out.

In the day thus far, I have gotten,

"Wow you look so serious. Like you should be serving drinks on a plane".

Great.

Next comment was alittle better.

"Omg your so preppy today, I almost didn't recognize you until I saw the tattoo on your neck"

An "aww you look cute today" was thrown in. That's fine.

Then the finale. The most annoying comment made was as follows: "Why are you so dressed up? What? Are you going somewhere", with a look of suspicion.

I replied with, "um I'm not, didn't have anything to wear today."

I don't get it. Rest assure co-workers, I'll be back to being the office mess tomorrow.

Man On Fire!

2008-09-26T08:52:00.000-07:00

Tuesday night the game plan was to get back to Hoboken quickly and make dinner for Chia, Jay, & Andrew. MM by the way, dinner was lovely. I should have taken pictures! I made chicken terriyaki, a recipe brought to us by Shape Magazine. While looking around for recipe ideas (I always like to try to make new things), Chia's criteria was basically something tasty, but light. It was great and definitely a dish I'll be making again.

ANYWAY. After work, Andrew & I met up with the plan on going into Hoboken together. While walking along Sixth Avenue, chatting about the day and what not, allegedly a fire ball blew into the air and a hallal-cart-man burst into flames!! I didn't actually see the fire ball, but next thing you know, the man took off down the street on fire and let me tell you, it was unreal. Almost too shocking to do anything shocking. Luckily, other people around were more alert and about ten or so rushed towards the burning man with the shirts off their backs to put him out.

Moments after getting over the shock, one of us commented on why he didn't just stop, drop, & roll. And the other said something along the lines of - oh I know! It's like the first thing you learn in school! I know. Real nice. Later, I thought about it and I'm sure when you're in that kind of panic, set on fire and all, you don't think clearly and just go into shock. OR maybe in his country (perhaps Turkey) stop, drop, & roll wasn't emphasized in the school system like here.

So we stood, jaws dropped, & amazed by the scene taken place. Then we noticed an upside-down gas can, next to the halal cart, slowly beginning to set fire as well!! So we followed our first instincts and power walked the other way, in case the gas can exploded, causing the entire truck to do the same.

Yeah, my karma is just getting better and better. In all fairnessness though, what do either of us know about grease fires and extinguishing them? If anything, we did them a favor by staying out of the way and not creating a panic. No running or trampling over anyone took place. We just got the hell out of the way.

30 Days Of Yoga!

2008-09-23T10:30:00.000-07:00

Long story short, my friend E & I's ghetto gym has recently closed with no explanation. In the past week or so we have been trying to come up with a decent alternative. Honestly, the only reason I even went to the gym was for yoga, pilates, & cardio. This particular gym however was super shiesty, hasn't charged me for 6 months (thank you :) ), and may or may not have been seized by the IRS.

We figured it was time for a different plan and decided that instead of getting in at another gym, would join a yoga studio and take the cardio outdoors. Surprise surprise, joining a studio is pretty expensive, so we have taken time each day to search for a good deal.

Last week I found it. "30 Days for $30 Yoga Challenge" at the NYC Bikram Yoga Studio!

OMG

How amazing? It's pretty self-explanatory. For 30 days E & I will be doing yoga. Every single day. HOW AMAZING.

If you are wondering, yes it's going to be miserable the first week. In case you aren't familiar with different types of yoga, Bikram is practiced in a room heated at a 100 degrees for about 90 minutes. It's unreal. Between sweating profusely and gulping down gallons of water, you leave feeling completely cleansed. Image doing that every single day? I feel like it's going to be the ultimate detox.

E & I are curious about the aftermath of the 30 day challenge. Will we leave this experience as super vegans? God I hope not. I don't know if I could seriously say, "don't eat flesh" with a straight face Will we quit our jobs promptly after, move to Washington (state, not DC), and live on some sort of commune, living green and off the earth? That would be better. Or perhaps we will go to Australia and get trained to be yoga instructors. EVEN better. Or. Most realistically, it will be a wonderful chance to cleanse the body & soul and see life a little bit clearer.

Stay Tuned....

Parade Of Asians

2008-09-23T06:40:00.000-07:00

Spotted: 53rd & Madison. 9:01 am. 200 senior citizen Asians, wearing red shirts & matching hats, slowly (and I mean SLOWLY) parading their way down 53rd. Guess who somehow got stuck in the middle of this? Typical.

Poor Pick-Up Attempt: Walk From the PATH Edition

2008-09-22T11:59:00.000-07:00

Last night I had a wonderful classic date night. Dinner - mm Thai. Movie - "Burn After Reading", which was pretty good. John Malkovich was hilarious, & then a drink and some good conversation. Couldn't have been better. Afterwards, I waited for the stupid PATH and then made my way back to Hoboken. The PATH is OFFICIALLY on the shit list after making me wait an hour plus Saturday night, causing me get home after 5 and then sleeping til 1:30 pm the next day. Yeah yeah I know, it's my own fault for staying out late, but come on! An hour plus! Doesn't the path know people are out and about on Saturday nights desperately trying to get back to Hoboken?!!!

(Sorry about the rant. Anyway...)

So just to show me how much it despises me, again I had to wait a considerable amount of time. When I finally got back to Hoboken, I merrily bopped along, re-playing the night in my head and thinking what a good time I had, when all of a sudden I saw an image walking up towards me. Great. I don't know what it is about me that strangers feel the need to say weird things. Maybe they think I want to do the same, but there he was. Skinny. Had a super shiny face. Looked like he was 18. Wearing tight jeans.

"Hey....um you.."....

I turned around and he was awkwardly smirking at me.

"Um...yeah, your flip flops are too loud. heh heh. Way too loud".

I looked at him again, rolled my eyes and replied, "Right. Ok. Well good thing I'm turning here then huh?"

And off I went.

It could be either of two things:

(a) As a possible 18 year old, that brand of wasteful conversation works for him when chatting girls up. Bad for him, I was still basking of a night gone well and quite frankly don't need the bullshit dialogue.

(b) He was drunk/and or stoned/whatever and perhaps in the crazy land of his mind, maybe my flip flops were too loud.

Or (c) all of the above.

I'm going with (c)

Random Act of Gentlemenly Kindness

2008-09-17T06:32:00.000-07:00

While leaving the chaos that is the morning rush of Port Authority, it is near impossible to smile or think happy thoughts while being pushed this way and that. How do I paint the scene? Think of total chaos for one small block. Between the Am New York and Metro guys thrusting their arms towards you competing to give away their free newspapers & slow moving tourists overwhelmed to which way to go, you literally have to elbow and push in order to get to the street.

This morning, like any other morning, I was frowning and raging in my mind behind a slow moving sea of Germans. All of a sudden the equally fast moving chick next me stopped short and realized her heel was stuck in one of those subway floor vent things in the middle of the street. As in there was traffic coming. Not fun. The man in front of us stopped and dove down in an extremely non- creepy way to help her get her heal out. He then asked her if she was OK and merrily continued his way to work. Her & I were in awe. We found one of the last gentlemen in the city! Any other business man would have pushed her out of the way and then cursed the situation for making him a minute or two behind schedule.

I inspire to be this wonderful whistling man, well minus the aiding damsels in distress. What inner peace he must have to whistle his way to work via Port Authority.

An End Of An Era....

2008-09-15T12:07:00.001-07:00

It's a little bit behind, but I feel I should probably talk about a true end of an era for us musical theatre people of NYC.

RENT IS GONE. Omg just put me out of my misery. Rent is off Broadway FOREVER. I don't know if there is any reason to be in NYC or live.

Ok fine, I won't be so melodramatic. It is just sad and even though I haven't seen it in a year or so, will miss it's presence in Midtown and on my walk home from work each day.

To torture myself, I walked by the empty vessel of the greatest Rock Musical of our time last week. And it was disturbing. There waere trucks, boxes, and pieces of the set on the street. One of the side doors of the stage was open and as pathetic as it sounds, of course I stopped dead in my tracks, became one of the street-stopper walkers I loathe, and lurked in. I don't know why I did it. I guess I needed to see it in person to realize that it is gone and out of my life. And yes, that was a tear rolling down my cheek.

Why I'm Still Single : A Wednesday Edition

2008-09-10T07:04:00.000-07:00

First of course, updates & a quick work of advice.

Last we spoke about my living situation, our crappy roommate was moving out. This week, she asked Meg if she could push her move-out date from October to November 1st because her plan fell through I guess and wanted to move-in with her sister. Psh. We agreed that a) why should we go out our ways to help her out when she has not been friendly, considerate, or a good roommate in the months we lived with her b) it's her own bad karma for giving us so short notice. Now she has to do the scrambling around making plans. Sorry sister, but the world does not revolve around you. c) showing the apartment sucks. We have like 4 people coming to see it tonight and 2 tomorrow. Showing the apartment = not having a life. We want to get someone in there ASAP.

So I saw the alleged crappy roommate last night and said hello. What did I get? An evil blank stare. OH hell no. I went right into my room, texted Meg with a "oh that Crappy Bell. I walked into the apartment and said hello to her and she ignored me. She is sooooooo out!" HELL no am I helping out someone who doesn't have enough courtesy to even say hello.

Nexxxt

Quick word of advice: NEVER go out on a Tuesday night, drink 2 large mix drinks, and then follow them with 2 shots of Jaiger and then another one of vodka. Your just asking for trouble. I mean, luckily I've never been there, but I've heard it causes you to be miserable all day and arrive an hour late to work. Oooopsa

Ok. Now the reason to this post.

(The scene: At a local bar around the corner. Kristine, the star of the show, is chatting up her friend Nina, whom she hadn't seen in awhile)

Stranger: Excuse me...I love your tattoo! (sniffling giggle) I think I'm going to get the same one!
Kristine: Oh, (fake laugh) nice..?

(Kristine looks at the stranger and notices he is a very short petite old man. Typical, she thought. This is apparently the only breed of people attracted to her anymore. Not only is he way out of her dating age range, but she could pick him up and put him in her pocket)

(Later. She sees someone else she knows and proceeds to chat him up. Coincidentally, the pocket old man is friends with friend chatter).

Pocket Old Man: (mumbles under his breath) are you smitten with anyone?
Kristine: excuse me? Huh? What did you say?
Pocket Old Man: I said, 'are you smitten with anyone'?
Kristine: (thrown off) oh, ha, I don't know, I guess not. Well maybe. Kind of. Well.
Pocket Old Man: (giving her a look of confidence) well, (yet another sniffle giggle) that's good for me then.
Kristine: ha...right.

Seriously. This is all I can hope for out of life. Senior Citizens that I can push around in a stroller.

The Valley Of Empty Staircases

2008-09-09T07:54:00.001-07:00

What do you think would happen if, for one day, we turned off all the escalators in the City? I know what would happen. People would go into a frenzy and immediately stampede to the nearest elevator. They would REFUSE to take a step near the lonely staircase,who would then feel depressed and have to contemplate what it ever did to become so unpopular.

Working in the city, commuting, being in places that are publicly used, moving up and down, above and below ground, there are 3 ways in getting where you need to be. The elevator, the escalator, and the lowly staircase.

I got to thinking about this the past few weeks, while watching 7,000 people mush themselves onto a crowded escalator, when all the while there was a mere 1-2 people brave enough to venture up and down the staircase. Why be so lazy? When you think about it, most of us commuting at 8ish in the morning and later 5ish at night sit the majority of the day away. Shouldn't we take advantage of the space between to move around some?

I'm a staircase kind of girl unless I am carrying obscene amounts of bags (which happens often because I'm a vagabond) or am miserably hungover. I feel though, in cases that you need to ride the escalator should use it as a tool to move faster, not to take a break. I hate HATE when you are stuck on a 1 laned escalator and people just stand around, basking and enjoying their ride. That's whats great about 2 laned escalators. The lazies or those who have two much luggage to pass can stay to the right and us fast-movers have the ability to zip on by. BUT THEN you got to love the couples who need to stand next to each other to "escalator spoon" or tourists who don't understand NYC commuting etiquette and take up both lanes, leaving us "I need to be running or else I'm angry" commuters pouting and shaking our fists in rage.

I fear technology. I fear it's ability to create a world where we don't need to move or think to get through the day. Whats next for our future NYC? Side walks who ask were your going and then slide you to your chosen destination? Body-robot doubles who live the entire day for you and then tell you all about it at night?

I'd rather take the stairs.

Home Sweet... Railroad Style Apartment..?

2008-09-03T15:30:00.000-07:00

I awoke Thursday morning in a great mood. I had an awesome night sleep & it was my last day of work before the 4-day Labor day holiday. I grabbed a towel or two and headed down the hallway to the bathroom to take a shower. I open the door to the living room and am shocked to discover two people laying across my couches. Fine fine, I don't care. My roommate Courtney had some friends sleep over. They probably went out late and decided just to crash out our place. I have had people sleep over, so I have no problem if my roommates do the same. As I quietly tip-toed through, attempting to not wake anyone up, I stopped dead in my tracks.

They were tangled up IN MY SHEETS. I repeat - strangers on our couches. In. MY. Clean laundered sheets. As in they had to physically go through our linen closet, pull out all my crap (they were flannel sheets and on the bottom of the pile) and bring them over to the couch.

I was AMAZED. Courtney & I are NOT friends. If my other roommate Meg did that, I wouldn't have even noticed. She can take whatever because if the situation arose, she would have probably washed them. And then told me. And then folded them back nice. Not Courtney. Oh no no, her and her friends were apparently too good for that and hastily shoved them back the next morning.

It got me thinking about roommates. One of the problems with a great city like New York is that because we all want to be here, rent is astronomical. If you don't have the desire to be in NYC, the idea of sharing a closet with 17 other people or living in a railroad style apartment is unheard of.

About 16 months ago (give or take) that was me. I got my first job in the city and wanted the NYC experience Obviously I could NEVER afford anything in Manhattan, so went for the next best thing - Hoboken. And let me tell you, it is a great wonderful place to live. Beautiful and safe. But it too is getting more and more expensive. I mean where else in the world can a landlord feel justified in upping the rent in a room the size of a bathroom. But I guess it's worth it if you have a 30 minute ride (if that) into the city.

When I moved into Hoboken, the only thing I cared about was getting there. I didn't care who I lived with or how small the room was. All I wanted was something mostly furnished (because I have nothing) and on the cheaper side (again because I have nothing). I found an adorable place to live with 2 chicks (thank you craigs list). It was awkward at first because they were friends, but later we got to know eachother and were cool. The only issue was the fact that the apartment is railroad style, meaning my roommate Megan had to walk through my bedroom to get the rest of the apartment.

Around December, Joanne (the other roommate) dropped the bomb that she was moving out and immediately Meg & I got an ad up for a new roommate. Thank the good lord I got to move out of the walk-through and into Joanne's HUGE room for a mere $25 extra. Seriously. It is a gem.

In a fit of desperation, we gave the room up to this dude Ben. How do I explain Ben? He is basically a filthy-goat- stew- eating no-personality-weirdo-pot head, who happens to be a microscope salesman. We were amazed how he could possible be a salesman because he sucks soo bad. His room consisted of his huge microscope, a half-deflated air mattress, and some random boxes. Luckily for us, he only lasted a month or two. I'd just like to say thanks to Ben ordering a whole bunch of movies on paid per view before he left.

Then we got Courtney, who I guess is fine, in the aspect that she's never around and if she is, stays to herself and doesn't make much noise. What gets me is that if you are both home, she will NEVER initiate conversation unless you ask her 20 questions. Only time I have talked her was when she was upset about something or I was drunk and apparently chatty.

She is moving out Oct. 1st, so it makes Meg & I wonder whether a) we just have bad luck with the little room or b) perhaps we are bad roommates who are hard to live with.

But that's silly, what am I saying? Between the two of us, we are never around, super clean, and laid back. So maybe it is the room. All I know is it BETTER be filled by Oct 1. So if you know anyone looking for a cheapy room in Hoboken with yours truly as a roommate, let me know!

And Just When We Thought It Couldn't Get Any Worse....

2008-09-03T06:48:00.000-07:00

Texts last night between E & I during the season premiere of the new 90210.

Me : ok how about all the teachers on the new 90210 are super hot.
E: Right? I'm in love

(After the show)

Me: It was actually not that bad, I'll def watch again.
E: Ha I thought it was terrible but I'm still going to watch! Because I'm that sad.

Oh Thank God Your Back

2008-09-02T08:03:00.000-07:00

I don't know if I've ever mentioned it before, but I really love bad television. As in, I'm pretty sure I have TV maturity of a 17 year old. So you could probably guess what I like to watch. The Hills? Yes. All the Real World/Road Rules challenges/Gauntlets etc.? Of course. I Love NY, Flavor of Love, Rock of Love, and ANYTHING else VH1 tells me to watch? Well yeah, they told me to, what can I do?

But my absolute favorite thing to watch now, the TV show that I am obsessively way to excited about is....(drum roll please)

GOSSIP GIRL

I love it, I love it, I love it. And you know what, I'm not ashamed of loving GG . It's just soo good.

Last night, Chia & E came over my place (god bless Chia with her stocks of dips and chips at home). The three of us sat around my television with bubbling excitement to see what our ficitonal friends have been up to all summer.

*sigh*

Tell me, on a scale of one to ten, how pathetic are we for actually clapping and yelling, "thank god Gossip Girl is back! How did we survive the entire summer without it!?"

Even worse is the fact that I now live life parallel to television. One of the characters, Nate (who is INSANELY hot) is having an affair with an older married woman. Later on, I fell asleep, blah blah dream dream, and the next thing you know, I was the one having the affair with Nate (in my dream world). Is this really where my life has come to? I have no romantic prospects on the horizon (oh, we'll get into that in a later blog) so am forced to dream about fictional characters.

But, what makes watching the show even better is coming to work Tuesday mornings and clicking on NY Magazine's blog "The Daily Intel" where they tear the episode apart and we viewers get to relive all the great realistic moments to the "that is SO fake" moments.

http://nymag.com/daily/intel/2008/09/where_the_chuck_have_you_been.html

I read somewhere that there will be 22 episodes this season. Count it - 22! So, thank you WB for being, in general, a crappy TV station, but somehow providing us with the best television show of our time.

: )

KC <3's Caffeine

2008-08-27T07:32:00.000-07:00

Don't think I forgot about you carbs! I love you as well! But the difference here is I don't think I could survive without you.

As a silly experiment, I thought it would be interesting to detox from caffeine, wondering if I was actually dependent.

Yes. Yes I am.

I went for about a week without caffeine and noticed my body feeling a bit sluggish. I figured it must be that I was going through withdrawl and would wait it out.

Week two I broke my detox and happily drank a large cup of coffee one hungover morning and I found my heart pounding way too fast and felt almost uncomfortable in my skin. What the? I used to never feel this affect. But then again, my body hasn't not had caffeine in yearrrrs.

I immediately got a flashback of last year, where I was taking in the most amount of caffeine.

Back at my old office, I would be up and down the elevator twice a day re-filling my coffee. Then one day, me, E , and one of our other co-workers Greg decided that it was time to join forces and up the coffee factor. I brought in a coffee maker, someone else brought in a box of splenda and fat free milk, and the other would purchase the french vanilla dunkin donuts coffee.

Because it was there, we way over did it. Pot and pots of coffee were constantly being drank & re-brewed, to the point that I'm sure our other co-workers didn't know what to do with us because we three were bouncing off the walls.

Anyway, when did I give in? WELL, last night I was trying to work on a new literary endeavour and could not keep my eyes open. Seriously, I passed out around 10:30. I woke up this morning and was like, "screw this, back to caffeine"

As soon as I walked into work this morning, grabbed the biggest mug I could find and happily drank myself into a sweet wonderful caffeine induced frenzy. It's good to be back : )

BAD BAD News

2008-08-22T06:41:00.000-07:00

According to http://www.the-leaking-cauldron.org/, Harry Potter's new release date is JULY 17, 2009!

OMG OMG. WHY Warner Brother's why!??? It was supposed to open this coming November. I don't know if I can make it.

You Know What's Attractive?

2008-08-22T06:18:00.000-07:00

Drunky little me STARVING, devouring the biggest burrito of my life in literally three seconds. I have vague memories of myself joyfully covered in guacamole & sour cream, as if it was my first birthday and was being introduced to the cake.

Oh, The Luxury Of Ingredients: The Breakfast Edition

2008-08-21T12:39:00.000-07:00

An omelet (obviously), with spinach, olives, fresh basil from the garden (naturally), and feta cheese. Accompanied with toasted rye bread.

Now you probably figure that I must have gone food shopping and become inspired to grow a garden on my fire escape. Oh how I wish it was true, but alas, I am lazy & poor. Any chance of growing anything on the fire escape would be out of the question because our kitten gets out there and would eat up the veggies in a minute. If she didn't, than I'm sure a squirrel or pigeon would. Do pigeons like basil or mint? Well certainly, the ones who are tired of seeds and bread scraps would.

This lovely omelet was constructed at my parent's place on Sunday morning. I woke up and I immediately thought of their overly stocked fridge and garden and decided to treat myself. MM. So tasty. I brought my entire spread out to the deck to enjoy my breakfast and read the newspaper.

Dates For The Single Girls

2008-08-21T10:21:00.000-07:00

It's great when your single and have lots of single girl friends. Without them, who would truly understand and appreciate the good, bad, and ugly dating adventures? As I mentioned a few blogs back, I got super drunk (oopsa) before meeting up for a drink date a week or two ago and onlyvaguely remember meeting with him. Strange enough, I never heard from him again. Well after I apologized, via text, for being a drunken nightmare, got a reply saying,

"it's ok, your lucky I'm so forgiving : ) "

Uckk. Obviously, he is desperate. No human being in their right mind should want to date me after the horror show that I displayed.

I never called him. He never called me. Done & done.

Then this week rolled along, and low & behold yours truly, plus two of my gal pals all had dates lined up. (Well one refuses to call it a date, but we know better). Mine was on Wednesday and before I went, these are the last parting words from two of my friends:

Emily: don't get too drunk! Sip!
Mhern: have fun!!!! don't get tipsy!!!

Great. Just great. I swear, that was the only date I ever showed up drunk. Seriously. And it wasn't even like I was super interested in him. So there.

The night turned out to be great. Really. Rarely do I see potential or interest in any one. Most people I am left with feelings of, "meh. nice guy, not bad, ho hum. It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to hangout with him again." or "ABSOLUTELY not. I never want to see this person again. Too passive. Way too corny and accommodating. Weird 1/2 tooth. Too short. Weirdo hairy knuckles. Too bald. Pathetic. No conversation" and on and on and on. You get the picture.

But this guy I went out with, I really can't say a bad thing. I had a genuine good time. So now I'm left with the dilemma of what now? Will we ever hangout again? Maybe it was all in my head, he wasn't all that impressed with me, the tables have turned, and I'll never hear from him again? You know, stupid girl blah blah blah. I choose from now on to just go with it and see how things play out.

Mornings before and after dates usually consist of "So how did it go?" or "Are you excited? Nervous? Do you want to see him again..." blah blah blah

I was thinking about it yesterday and feel bad for guys because girls talk about EVERYTHING. Seriously, if I was a guy, I'd be cursing the creators of "Sex & The City", who gave girls permission to not only have sexual standards, but talk freely about everything. Two of my oldest friends & I have talked openly about pretty much anything since we started having anything good to talk about, but "Sex & The City" helped piles and piles of girls learn conversation skills to share their adventures.

Guys of course talk about stuff to a certain extent. How could they not? They are the journalists of details. They generally mention the Who, what, where, when, why, & anything weird and out of the ordinary. Rarely have I heard guys get into serious specifics. But then again, I'm a girl and how many guys want to gush about their sex lives with me? Girls on the other hand get into DETAILS. Gentlemen beware, if there is something super different or not desired by the female race, we are going to find out. That's probably why for so long women were not "supposed" to talk about their sex lives or really get into the good stuff. Men probably feared that once women started talking and discussing whats good, normal, etc., they would start making demands. Men would then have to start making an effort, stop being so selfish in bed, and start playing by our rules. Once Sex & The City hit, the power has shifted in someways and I think that's great.

So apparently I sound like a feminist a bit? To tone it down some, there are also instances when there is no need to say anything and I think that's when it's the best. We talk out of excitement, humor, disgust, or simply just to talk. But when things are at their best, I don't think you need to get into it or actually know how to express it. And that's definately what I hope for in my life.

Yet Another Immaculate Bob

2008-08-15T11:55:00.001-07:00

I know, I know. Disgusting and I look miserable.

In my own defense, there are a few factors to consider:

(a) This picture was taken early and I'm not really wearing any makeup.

(b) I'm at work, so obviously I have a little pout on.

Ahhhhhh way better. I wish you could see if from

the back to understand new Bob's beauty.

All I can say is I am very happy with it and found

a chick who works wonders on my hair.

AND the place is right around the corner from

my work.

Sloppy Nation

2008-08-15T11:44:00.000-07:00

The business man in the beautiful pin stripe suit couldn't help but admire his reflection each time he walked by a store front. With his olive skin and shiny black hair, he was a man that exuded confidence and high class. He continued to walk down 55th Street and all the while basked in the sun and welcomed the beautiful August day. He looked down and noticed a man sitting on the steps of a church and thought to himself, "man, my life is great. I should really share the wealth with the less fortunate."

So with that, he put his hand in his pocket and pulled out what it appeared to be a shiny gold coin, perhaps a Sacajawea. Leaning down, he put it in the man on the steps hand, while giving him a smile, as if to say, "despite being a gross un-showered homeless man, I still consider you an equal human being".

And he whistled walking away, felt saturated in generosity.

Meanwhile, the man on the steps looked perplexed.

HE WASN'T HOMELESS.

I was walking behind this scene last week and actually laughed out loud. Why did the man in the suit assume the dude on the steps was homeless just because he was sitting around?

Then the Suit's phone rang and he started jabbing away in what sounded like Italian.

Is that really was the Europeans think of us? We Americans are just a country filled with filthy homeless people? I guess I would too if I was some classy Parisian, where my home was the place style was given birth to. NYC is supposed to be the fashion capital of the country, but have you seen some of horrors on the street? And I would have to include myself in this category too.

Compared to a well dressed European, I got nothing to work with here.

That got me thinking about how sloppy a nation we truly are. How often do you notice people out on the streets who obviously just jumped out of bed minutes earlier. I cringe at the sight of stretched out velour tracksuits intertwined with a frumpy stay-at home mom body, topped with a crazy-lady-hair -scrunchy combo. Honestly, I often feel intimidated when I have a bad hair day (ugh like today. you should see the edgy bob. It has obviously grown since the cut late June, so now it's mutated into a weirdo shabby bob. Good thing I'm getting a haircut later) or am not wearing the best possible outfit when walking down Fifth Avenue in a pack of the fashionable Europeans.

I think a big difference is that they choose quality over quality. While Americans bask in the notion of owning 8000 pairs of flip flops, Europeans will have 3 pairs of the most beautiful and exquisite shoes ever to grace the earth.

Sure we have some fashion and style here, but how do we compare our homeless to their equivalent, the gypsies? Our homeless just sit around, pan handle, and make people feel uncomfortable. Why even yesterday while jetting off to the subway, I encountered one who was shaking and ticking as if he just swallowed a bomb minutes from explosion, muttering to himself, "must not get hit by the rain. The rain will make me wet, the rain will make me wet." About a minute later, I almost got knocked over by one proclaiming, "having sex with a woman IS A SIN", over and over and over again.

At least theirs are nomads, play music ,and keep the people entertained. If our homeless were eccentric and talented, I would be wayyy more generous with my quarters, nickels, & dimes. Alas, they are all borderline crazy, so I will continue to keep my head down & pretend they don't exist

Bad Karma KC

2008-08-14T11:53:00.000-07:00

Whenever something goes wrong in my life I immediately blame it on karma and the fact that I am obviously being punished for something I've done in my life. And despite my efforts in being a good human being, I can count on my fingers & toes experiences in life that I am not too proud of. And most of those experiences involve alcohol. Ooopsa.

This morning I am greeted to work with an email reprimanding me doing something that was not my fault, but an error of someone I assist. Now you may be saying, "oh Kristine, just suck it up and take responsibility for your wrong doings". I suppose I should have been paying closer attention, but regardless, I was given orders to change something, without any knowledge to why it was being adjusted. So this just swooped the day into miserable-madness.

THEN. I got some bill from a dentist appointment I had LAST NOVEMBER, claiming I owe them $450....but why? Isn't that what insurance is for? OHHH NO HOO apparently not and apparently they never took the insurance. But how did I find this particular dentist? Oh that's right, on the insurance's website. So they gave me some bullshit explanation and that it is my responsibility to make sure the doctor sends the insurance the claim. And what else? I will have to pay and there is nothing I can do about it.

(snarl, a little whimper and a sigh)

"Thank you for calling Reliance Standard Health Insurance. You opinion counts. Would you take a brief survey about the level of assistance we just provided?"

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME? BADDDDD assistance. No no no!"

(Phone slammed)

As I sat there and started shaking the woes of the day out of my head, the next bomb dropped.
I received a text from my roommate, Courtney that said,

"Hey girls, I wont be around this weekend...

Ok. I don't care. When are you ever around? And p.s., we don't hang out.

"And I just wanted to give you a heads up that I'm looking to move out by 9/15."

OH GOD. Isn't that just great.

So what am I being punished for you ask? Well it could one of many things:

1) Complaining about my current situation, when in fact it's not all that bad compared many others.

2) The fact that I lived most of my life as a horror of a daughter to my parents, giving them daily grief and I'm sure wondering what went wrong in their parenting.

3) I've been selfish and un-intentionally inconsiderate with other people's feelings.

4) I never donate money to worthy causes and NEVER stop at lemonade stands.

5) I am awkward and I'm sure that equals mean to children & senior citizens.

I can only imagine how the rest of the day plays out.

It is only 4:06.

We still have a lot more day to live.

Update: Maybe Don't Say Yes To Everything..

2008-08-11T07:41:00.001-07:00

When we last spoke, I was toying with the idea of embracing all opportunities and just saying yes. Yes to dates I was once weary of. Yes to new experiences. Yes to new and exciting different foods. Yes yes yes.

But then we must remember that I am all things excessive, so maybe saying yes to everything is not such a good idea. One more after party? Yes! One more cocktail? No, make it two! Never go home on a work night? Good call!

I had my date scheduled and ready to go with my bar boyfriend, but then remembered I had a work event that I absolutely had to attend. I gave him a call to see if he either a) wanted to go out afterwards or b) re-schedule. He was down meeting after, remembered me rambling on about how much I liked Thai food, so suggested to come meet me at my office around 8:30, we'd take a cab downtown, and get some Thai. That sound's good right? And for the girl who only takes cabs in times of necessity or luxury, all very wonderful.

The event at my office was on our 33rd floor terrace, with the theme of "Outdoor BBQ". It was very cute and had potential to be a blast. Um open bar & free food, what's not to love? Except because I am an assistant, had the job of working the event, with the fabulous job of greeting guests, guiding them to the bar and bag check. Luckily, the bar was inches away and after a co-worker or two suggested I should bring a drink to the front, happily agreed and that was when it all went down hill.

1 glass of wine
2 glasses of wine
3 glasses of wine
4 glasses of wine

Throw in a couple of walk-around appetizers and an asparagus panini and I got a bit of social-drunky. Everyone has their own definition of social drunky. Some get way too honest. Some get mean and way too blunt, touchy- feely, or emerge as super chatty McChatterson. That was were I fit in, which I'm sure mind boggled my co-workers because I generally do not speak at work. All of a sudden, propelled by glasses of white wine, not only chatted co-workers up, but clients as well! And I'm not going to lie, but I had a pretty good time.

Around 8:30 the party was in full force and everyone was planning on moving it along to a bar across the street. I called bar bf and cancelled on him because I didn't want to leave clients and co-workers and he was totally cool and understanding and down to do it some other time.

Wouldn't that be nice if this was the end of the story? Oh its not. We have way more night to cover.

So we all go across the street, where I quickly and stupidly switched over to vodka sodas, mingled a bit, and then left. No memory of saying goodbye to people and I'm pretty sure I just snuck out knowing I shouldn't be in the presence of superiors in the state I was quickly going into.

So I went home.
Ha if only...

At that point, I figured I may as well call bar bf to meet for a drink, because obviously I so needed one, and he lived right around there anyway. I called him and we met up. From what I gather, it was raining, I had NO umbrella, and walked right by him. I can only assume he had a great time with images of his future girlfriend dancing in his head with me, the belligerent wet dog, who muttered things like "you better not bar snuggle with me like last time" and "I am soo taking of work tomorrow or I'll be missssserable".

Somehow we parted ways. I got myself safely to Hoboken and then emailed my bosses to let them know I would be taking a summer Friday.

(The end)

A revision to living life with a yes attitude: Say yes if you never do, but if your a girl of excess like me, simply be open to the world with a positive prospective

If I had my way, I'd never go home, stay out to the last possible second, and burn the candle at both ends for the rest of my life. Thankfully, there is still a little whisper in the back of my head that ghostly murmurs, "goooo home.....you don't want to be miserable tomorrow.....gooo toooo yogaaa.....you don't need to buy another party dress...."

Say Yes To Life!

2008-08-07T10:37:00.000-07:00

Ahhh after a mere week or so, I completed yet another of Augusten Burrough's memoirs " Wolf At The Table", which by the way was wonderful. If you haven't had a chance to ever read any of his work, go! Quickly! Go to Barnes & Noble, the library, or ask and I'll lend you a copy. His life is an absolute inspiration for anyone of strength and overcoming huge obstacles, and all the while still making a huge success in life and as a person.

In a panic of nothing to read, I turned to the category of books I own that I can read over and over again. These are basically the in between books when nothing I have is striking my fancy at the moment, but I need something.... So I turned to a much loved book , "The Year of Yes", by Maria Dahreana Headley.

Ever read it? Her book was hysterical and a 1-2-3 read. After a lifetime of bad dating and constant weirdos hitting on her, Maria discovered she was her own worst enemy and had no judgement when it came to the people she dated. For one year, she said yes to every single person that asked her out. I won't spoil the ending, but she takes the reader on a roller coaster ride of some just weird guys all the way down to god-awful crazies. And I'm not talking in a good way.

I think I relate to her especially because I know EXACTLY how she feels. I too am constantly bombarded with crazies, and when a at first-glance normal approaches me, it is only a matter of time for them to fall for me and then immediately lose their mind. As in drop the "I could spend my life with you" bomb or my personal favorite, "the one regret in life I have is never sleeping with you...". Thanks. Thank you very much.

So in a fit of inspiration and the fact that my dating life has been looking pretty bleak, I thought, "maybe I should give this whole year of yes a try". I really am too quick to judge and often regret casting people aside so hasty. I could name a name or two of people who I wish I could have had a second chance. But, *sigh*, you live & learn and can only hope that life actually teaches you a thing or two.

This whole year of yes won't work for me. Almost immediately after I made this deal with myself, I went out for happy hour/night with some friends and friends of friends and was bombarded by a guy who basically appointed me as his "bar gf" and then "bar spooned" me the remainder of a night. Note: this is not attractive boys. Well. Unless I'm super into you, maybe, but usually it is a deal breaker. Give the girl some room to breath for god sake.

Anyway...

My bar bf has called me numerous times over the past few weeks to go out for dinner/drinks/whatever and I've been reluctant. If you can do that to a stranger, lord only know how pda-ish he'd be if we eventually dated or something. Or maybe he doesn't get girls and because I showed a smidgen of interest, went all out. See this is how my mind works. Dating for the past ten years or so, have become jaded and don't take it as a compliment, but more of a:

Hmm. What is he up to? Does he do this to every girl? There must be something sneaky going on. There MUST be something wrong with him....

I actually talked to him this week and agreed to go out tonight, so we'll see how it goes. I've decided that instead of just saying yes to everyone who asks me out (which is not going to happen in NYC, the land of the crazies), but instead just say Yes To Life and embrace all the opportunities that fly my way. For too long I think I've been saying, no no no, instead of taking a look of what's really in front of me.

I'll keep you posted. I may be singing a different tune tomorrow...

Guilty Pleasures....But Why So Guilty?

2008-08-06T13:14:00.000-07:00

Guilty Pleasure: is known as something one considers pleasurable despite feeling guilt for enjoying it. Fashion and food can be examples of guilty pleasures.

We all have them. For some of us it's being a very well read individual, but at the same time secretly having a love for trashy romance novels. Or perhaps it's the musical snob who solely listens to random underground music, but for some weird reason or another can't seem to shake the Spice Girls.

Why do we have guilty pleasures anyway? Why be ashamed of what our mind, body, & soul ache for? I think it must have something to do with what society expects of us and the image of what we think we are v.s the one we display. I'm just happy that as I have gotten older & older, have found myself lose these insecurities, if you will, in exchange of a "whatever! I will rejoice my weird quirks and what I love" mentality.

Some of my include:

(1) Harry Potter! I have had friends actually shake their heads at me and say, "I didn't think you were one of those people Kris", to which I respond, "I LOVE HARRY POTTER! I can't wait for the movies and I'm dressing up as my favorite character. And you know what, you just wait. Read one of the books and you'll be singing a different tune".

Why even last night, my friend Hennessey called to chat and when she asked what I was doing, I replied, "Oh you know, just watching the new Harry Potter movie trailer (again) on youtube. Little did she know that while I was watching the trailer, "Harry Potter & The Order of The Phoenix" was muted on my tv. Maybe that crossed the line of guilty pleasure to creepy obsession?

(2) Liverwurst and pickle sandwiches. My mother, a woman who loves her heritage, happily fed her children all sorts of German foods, including, yes Liverwurst. When I initially figured out what it was made of, was absolutely alarmed and disgusted. Eventually, I got over it and learned to embrace liverwurst for all of it's wonderfulness

(3)Musicals. Musical Theatre is one of my loves. Growing up, I was consistently a member of choirs and musical productions and though I was surrounded by people within the choirs, no one at school ever did those kind of things. I remember feeling like something was different. When I was 11 and had the chance to audition with my choir to be on Broadway, I didn't tell anyone because it was out of the ordinary, so I guess that's maybe when it almost became a guilty pleasure. Thankfully, I grew up, became friends who were peers as well as musical theatre lovers, and got over my weirdness.

There is only one instance, that I can think of, when I get mortified by my musical theatre loving ways. On the way to & fro work, I pass lots of Broadway shows, depending on the route in which I take. We got Mama Mia, Young Frankenstein, Avenue Q, The Little Mermaid, Mary Poppins, Legally Blonde, Rent, The Heights, Zanadu, Chicago, Spamalot, The new one with Harry Potter in it, Grease, and I'm sure many many more I can't recall at the moment. Without fail, every time I walk by Rent, Chicago, or Mama Mia, one of the songs from the chosen musical will pop onto my ipod, as if it knows we are walking by the homeland and needs to make a shout-out so the theatre can hear. Meanwhile, I am frantically rummaging through my bag attempting to lower the song. What if someone heard?

I'd so be that musical theatre geek that purposely walked by Rent daily and everyday would fumble through my play list in search of "Seasons Of Love" as a mini-tribute. I would then rip my shirt off to reveal the Rent tank top underneath that I would ALWAYS wear and creepy smile with connection and envy at the people outside the theatre waiting to go in.

No. I'm not that bad yet.

Hatin' On The Homeless

2008-07-28T06:23:00.000-07:00

Working in New York City, I realize and accept the fact that I have to co-exist with the homeless. And I feel I have, for the most part, good manners when dealing with them I never stare or give looks of disgust and take special care when in maneuvering around them. I don't want to wake up the cranky homeless when they are sprawled out across the sidewalk.

There is only one or two kinds of homeless people I feel sorry for and if I had spare change, I would absolutely drop it off into their worn paper cups.

Those who served in any war, fought long and hard for this country, came home a hero and poof! They had nothing. No help from the government, being gone for so long caused them to have no way to stand on their feet, couldn't get jobs, were so emotionally battered by war horrors, and eventually the only option was to live on the street. The sub-category in this exception are the crippled war heroes, who not only sacrificed their time and youth, but actual limbs. I don't know what I'd do if I fought for a country I loved and sacrificed an arm and leg for, to come home and realize that it turned it's back on me. So I understand. I'd probably sit in the corner heckling and kicking (see blog "Edgy Bobs & The Kicking Homeless") pedestrians too.

All the others I almost feel resentment for. This morning, for example, I was carrying a HUGE black bag of clothes, a plastic bag full of food my mom bought for me, and my every-day work bag. With three bags in tow, I jet it down the street in order to get to work on time. I was in Middletown for the weekend and when I attempted to train it back last night, there was some sort of delay, so I said SCREW THIS. I called my dad and asked him to pick me up. So needless to say, it was a joy trekking to work today, in a dress, in the weird fogginess, turned humidity, late, with an additional 30 pounds to lug.

While taking a breather and waiting for the light to turn green, I noticed a homeless man, sitting in a lawn chair reading AM New York. Behind his push cart full of miscellaneous this and that's, was a pile of KITTENS. In front of the kittens, there was a sign written on cardboard that read, "please help us, god bless".

At this point I got very angry. Why should I give you my hard earned quarters when you just sit on the corner, day after day. I work not five, but six days a week to pay my bills and to fund a little social life. Why should I support this lifestyle? I hate working. I really really hate it. But I think it's even worse being a societal burden. Put your time in. There are always places hiring. Go get a job. I'd have no problem giving money to people who are actively trying to get back on their feet. But come on, with no goals to better life, why should I just sustain you? (Wow I sound extremely cold hearted. There is no trace of the loving yogi and peace lover I tend to be....perhaps my adult life has already hardened me).

And then the kittens. I want a cat. I would kill for a kitten, but I know that I am not in a financial situation where I could necessarily support another living creature. But here's the homeless man with his 5 kittens. So not only do I have to support him, but also his entire litter.

Could it be that I envy him more than I actually dislike him? Could be... I wouldn't mind a life sitting around in lawn chairs all day with a couple kittens. The only thing stopping me is the winter in the city and the lack of home. But I could always move somewhere warm...or. or....

If I was homeless, I think I'd become a mole person. You know those people who live deep down under the subways and have their own society and live by their own rules? I'd do that or be a super crazy homeless lady and scare the workers and tourists. I'd pretend I was unconscious on benches or sprawled out across the sidewalk, and when a poor Danish family is forced to step over me, that would be my cue to get up abruptly and start yelling gibber jabber.

They always look so down and sad, but I wonder if maybe its all an act and they are the ones laughing it up at the end of the day, while counting out their pan-handling money. While high fiving and giggling away they say, "haha and all the while they think we are sad??? We don't work and get to drink in public and never shower and play around all day, what could we complain about?? Did you see that miserable blond girl with all those bags this morning? Could you imagine if WE had to go sit in a silent office all days writing blogs? Man I'd rather be homeless!"

Saved!

2008-07-25T08:21:00.000-07:00

Enters the scarf: This is how you will see me on humid days. Or hungover ones. And the lazy..

Oh Humidity, How I Loathe Thee

2008-07-24T11:47:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, I got an edgy bob. And here it is on day one:

And since then, I have loved every moment of it. So easy to style. So cute. So wonderful. After I got my haircut, I was so pleased with the results, it prompted me to get a new tattoo, on my mid-neck area.

As you may have seen in pictures past, I have naturally wavy hair. What does this mean then you ask? NO MATTER what I do and try to prevent it, after I walk out my door with immaculate styling, the humidity hits me from each angle and I look like this:

Yeah. Pretty bad. I basically look like a crazy Eastern European who just showered, ran a finger or two through my hair and off I went into the flat, yet frizzy abyss.

What I Had For Dinner Tonight

2008-07-21T18:21:00.001-07:00

A nice light healthy Summer meal. Quiche with olives and cherizos, served with salad greens and a fat free blue cheese dressing.

My friend Mhern has made this for me two times (minus the olives) and it was AH-mazing. Seriously. Absolutely wonderful. Even now as I sit on my couch writing away, the mere presence of the quiche sitting there alone in the fridge makes me antsy, as if any minute now I'm going to lose control and eat the remainder of the pie.

What I Had For Dinner Last Night

2008-07-15T07:55:00.000-07:00

What is this you ask?

Venison Sloppy Joe's with olives, on whole wheat bread and a side of steak fries.

A few words about my meal:

---First of all I am not a hunter , neither am I a kind of person who tends to buy interesting or exciting meats. It wasn't as if I went out into my parent's backyard, shot a deer, skinned it, gut it etc. and later made it into a sandwich. My sister's boyfriend is a hunter and I guess once you get a deer, have ALOT of meat, so they pushed it along to me. Having never had game meat prior was kinda freaked out, but then quickly remember that I am poor and never buy meat. The closest thing to meat I buy is a block of tofu. Mayyyybe chicken. But that's a stretch. So I figured, "It can't be all that bad".

Yeah, it's great. Very tasty and apparently lower in calories, cholesterol, & fat. Who knew.

---I threw olives in because I recently fell in love with the olive family, bought some, and now am desperately trying to find ways to incorporate them in all my meals.

--The bread was stolen from my parents this weekend. I don't like food shopping and my mom always has back ups for all staple foods. They went to a pool party, leaving me alone at the house, so I took it upon myself to lap around the kitchen and see if anything struck my fancy (loaf of bread, diet Sunkist, & two apples).

Musical Uni Bomber

2008-07-11T06:57:00.000-07:00

My friend Mhern works for a publisher, so is always giving me the heads up on book signings and reading that I may be interested in. Last Thursday, off we went to the Barnes & Noble in Lincoln Center for Charles Strouse, composer of musicals such as "Bye Bye Birdie" & "Annie", new memoir "Put On A Happy Face". Being the musical theatre fanatic that I am, couldn't help but get a little excited and bubbly knowing that this amazing man would be chatting about his life & PLAYING some of his popular tunes. OMG. I know.

Because we both work til 5:00 or so and the reading started at 5:30, obviously we weren't going to get there earlier to secure seats, so had to deal with lingering around the entrance, standing on our tipping toes to listen in. Initially, I thought it was odd that the reading began so early, but once we got there, it was OBVIOUS why. So many old people. And I'm not saying nice glowing grandparents with patient smiles and stories abundant. They were a breed of obnoxious, irrational-sweat suit wearing- will never be pleased no matter what- senior citizens. Let's give them the benefit of the doubt though that they skipped dinner (which was probably around 5:00), so were hungry and cranky.

The Reading. I'm not going to get into it too much. Ladi-dah dah dah...someone was on the phone, old lady yelled at them to stop, which the person on the phone replied with something like-well don't push me!! Wah wah my husband's in there, I need to sit with him. (Rar of Gma) MIKE! Turn up the mike! Can you hear anything? I can't hear a thing!!

Yeah, I know, you get it. but Charles Strouse was wonderful and gave a lasting impression of inspiration. What a wonderful life he had experienced and despite accomplishing so many things, remained humble and down to earth.

After the reading was over, everyone began to line up for their books to be signed and Mhern & I went over to chat some of her co-workers up. A hello here, a how are you there, and off Mhern went to say hello to her friend's Mom.

So I stood around a bit and chatted with one of her co-workers, Robert who ended up being a nice and chatty fellow. Our conversation went as follows:

What do you do? Do you like your job?
Sales. HATES it.

Oh you write? What do you like to write about? poetry?
Yes I write. I like to write about myself. I have little to no patience for poetry.

How do I know Mhern?
Oh I don't know, forever.

And so on.

Enters the Musical Uni bomber.

As Robert & I talked about...well me, I heard a little bubbly, slightly over the top voice behind me say, "excuseeee me, but what does that tattoo on your neck say?"

Always one to talk about tattoos I told her, "oh it's in Thai and says For The Beauty Of The Earth".

I then turned to get a good look at whom I was talking to. Um. Yeah she was a mess. She reminded me of a washed-out dental hygienist, standing at a mere 5 feet, with this crazy dry raspy not quite blond, but more like straw hair. To top it off, had these CRAZY-lady eyes, emphasized with HUGE brown eye brows. I couldn't even tell you what she was wearing because the whole top half of the package was way too much to take in.

From there, she squealed with delight while ringing her hands and THEN in a quivering tone death voice began to sing the hymn "For The Beauty Of The Earth". From here began the anthem of religion AND spirituality AND her beliefs AND her past within the church AND how she went to school in Boston to go to school for seminary AND how she is at the highest level a woman can be at in the Catholic church, BUT she doesn't like the Catholic church. AND with pride in her voice stated, "And my grandmother, who is 80 - YEARS - OLD always thought a woman should be equal to a man in church. She was just a woman far ahead of her time", and with that a little sigh.

While she was chatted away, she slowly and surely began to corner me out. Obviously she was hitting on Robert and I was her in. That was my hint to subtly back away and let love happen. Fine fine, I could survive without a conversation with the crazy and the weirdo.

Just to show you the magnitude of her craziness and that it wasn't just me being weird,Robert got freaked out, gave her an excuse about wanting to talk to the author and took off. So there I was, alone with the uni bomber. She went on and on about this and that, all the while I spent my time shooting Mhern looks of "GET OVER HERE NOW. LOOK WHAT I'M TALKING TO".

Finally. I said, "Well I'm going to go and see if my friend is ready to go..."

MU: OH well I know Christine Ebersole (whom was singing that night) and I too have to go in and give something to her.

(right away I assumed a bomb)

She followed me to the door and the security guard said, "wellll where do you think your going"?

I replied to him with , "oh well my friend's over there and I just want to see if she's ready to go....While MU said, "I have something to give Christine. Let us in. You don't think she won't come over here to see me because she will. SHE KNOWS ME. SHE WILL COME OVER."

Oh sweet mother or god, the security guard obviously thought we were friends and plotting to take out Tony Award winning Christine Ebersole. (which, sad to say, I looked at her and thought to myself-oooo she was in my Girl 2!....I know, culture is just dribbling out of my pores).

While MU argued and pleaded with the security guard, Mhern came over, and the Musical-Uni bomber turned her attention immediately, telling Mhern how lucky she was to work in publishing, how she was going for her SECOND Masters for library skills and. Mhern mentioned that Rutgers had a good program there, MU violently attacked with-OH no no no. I live in Manhattan!! Agh haha I go to Pratt and they just don't let ANYONE in...

She continued to shake and panic, on the verge of pycho-sobbing, "I JUST HAVE ONE THING TO GIVE CHRISTINE!!! (she told me earlier that she cut out clippings from a review of a show she saw Christine in recently...but we know better).

Good old Mhern looked at me with the look of "why the hell are you always talking to these weirdos" and said "Must drink margaritas now, goodbye".

Meanwhile I was obviously erupting to talk about this, but knowing better (and because maybe the uni bomber would over hear and change her target) said, "WAIT until we get outside." Fine fine.

Thankfully, we got out of the building before the bomb went off, so good for the security guards & that they actually did their job. But what I find most disturbing is not that I am the flame for the crazy moths, but the fact that I am considered a threat by security guards. Could I be the next musical uni bomber....I mean I do love Rent. What happens when it goes off Broadway? Will my musical bomber within flip, unleash, and start stalking original cast members...is this all I can hope for the future?

The Peeves Of Hern

2008-07-10T11:43:00.000-07:00

I have nothing to write about today, but am more bored at work than usual. So in attempts to help me blog-storm, Mhern suggested I write one entitled:

"How Many Pet Peeves Can You Run Into During Lunch Break"

So from there, we began to collaborate and here are the top ten ( in no specific order).

1. When people cough without covering their mouths.

2. Those who meander down the sidewalk SLOWLY because they don't need to be back at work any specific time. And your always the one stuck behind them because they sway back and forth, making it impossible to get around.

3. Stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, looking up at nothing in particular, but causing you to walked into them. And typical, they're the ones irritated.

4. Those guys who do bus tours asking if your interested in going for a ride. DO I LOOK LIKE I'M ON VACATION?? Do I look happy and relaxed? no no no no

5. The dudes who stand outside comedy clubs trying to stop you, "hey. like to laugh? Like comedy?" They continue to harrass in the hopes of wearing you down to agree take the tickets off their hands.

6. Flier people in general. Do NOT push a flier in my face. I do NOT want a 5 minute free massage or my eyebrows threaded

7. Mystery drops of water falling from the sky. Please be an air conditioner...please please. Even scarier is when the drops come down in the winter. Lord only knows what they could be.

8. Slow-moving-hand-holding couples.

9. People who walk sooooo slowly because they are blackberrying away. Pshh if you need to make a call or text or email someone, stand to the side. The streets of NYC should be treated like highways. I think there should be policemen walking around giving out fines to the stoppers and the slow.

10. Um having to return to an eerie quiet and dark office when it is a BEAUTIFUL day.

So to sum it up, I don't like anyone or anything that gets in my way, stops me, moves slowly, or could possible cause me to become ill.

Business Proposition

2008-07-09T07:34:00.000-07:00

One of my newly discovered pet peeves is when people have a lot of money and don't spend it. I guess technically it makes sense that the people who spend (like yours truly) are obviously the ones who don't have any vs. those who save have some money. But say you die tomorrow. Who wants those last moments on earth regretting that you didn't buy that new car or that house on the shore you've been eyeing for years....or perhaps funding a project your friend Kristine wanted to begin.

Once upon a time, way back when in the late 90's when I was in high school, I worked at this wonderful coffee house, The House Of Coffee (I know original). It was a great place to work. The coffee house resided in the Galleria, which is a restored Factory, so it had a very cozy strong feeling about it and a sense of history. We had great regulars, good food, drinks, and such potential to thrive. But sadly, the people who owned and managed weren't very restaurant savvy and the HOC closed. A year or so later they re-merged as a tapas place Savannah, which I walked by last week and it looked to have closed down.

The first thing that came to mind was - Omg. What I would give to re-open the House of Coffee, but under my regime. Having worked in the restaurant business for almost 10 years, I have great confidence that I could absolutely run a successful coffee house. It used to pain me to watch the poor management of other places I worked, but it also taught me what would be good. My biggest objective is customer service and the best way to succeed is to have good clientele and know your people, make it a home and a place they feel welcome. How many places over the years I have returned to again and again because the staff knew me, how I liked my usual meal/drink/etc. and were up to date with what was going on in my life. Why even last week, I was hanging out with one of my regular waiter turned friends and years later, he can still tell me my usual. That's what I'd want out of my business.

My House of Coffee would encourage people to sit around and hangout (vs. the old one that only liked it if people were constantly buying) and would attempt tomake it a local artistic hub. For example, I'd invite reading and writing groups to have their meeting there, open mikes, art shows, and basically anything that promotes creativity and a sense of community. That would absolutely be a dream.

Now here's the dilemma. Um who has money for such venture? Do you think there would be anyone in the world who is just brewing in non-used money who'd like to be my cash flow? It could happen right? Perhaps some older gentleman may find my idea inspiring and want to provide the gift of fulfilling a daydream....right

Well keep a look out for me. There's got to be someone out there. In exchange for their generous donation, of course there will be a portrait hanging on the wall of their face and my unending love and devotion. That's a fair trade right?

A New Appreciation For The Suit

2008-07-07T06:22:00.000-07:00

According to my friend Eckart Tolle, author of "The New Earth", in order to find your true purpose in life is to defeat the ego (the voice in your head that is negative and if given the chance will mask the true self). The best defense against the ego is by living in the now because the ego likes to hate on everything and complain away the day.

In attempts of erasing my ego, I have been trying to be more conscious and live in the moment. But of course, my version of living in the now is by observing others around me and mentally taking notes for later stories.

Walking to work today was a great example of life in motion. There was the random act of kindness in which a man noticed that the person next to him on the bus dropped his cell phone, so chased him down to give it back. Later, there was a boy in a wheel chair that I felt bad for after his dad pushed him into a curb, causing him to uncomfortably stop short. Around 53rd and Fifth, there was a huge, I'm talking probably about 10 feet tall inflatable rat, apparently announcing that asbestos kills! (I don't really understand how the two connect). And of course we have the usual tourists that were walking slow and whom i usually give evil glares to, instead tried to reason with my head, "they are only walking slow because they are German tourists, overwhelmed by the city and have no idea where they are going"

My ego replied with, " Well unfortunately, you know where you are going and where you should be. And that would be WORK. SOME OF US HAVE TO GO TO WORK!! Out of my WAY!"

Finally, there was the sea of suits, who walk with purpose clutching a coffee in one hand and the other filled with a pile of Walt Street Journals and NY Times. If you've ever read anything else of mine, you know that I am usually not interested in Suits and don't care to chat with them because they are usually pretty typical and like to talk about money, compare careers, and so on. But then I realized maybe it's my ego's doings as to why I don't care for the Suits and need to let go of the animosity in order find a common ground.

So today while I took the walk of inner peace, I was standing next to a Suit at a corner waiting to cross the street and he was snapping his fingers and stamping his feet. Not just a little, "oh this is a good song" kinda tap. I'm talking a, "I LOVE THIS SONG and I LOVE LIFE" medley. So he bopped across the street and then became a member of the air orchestra and started to air drum, guitar, flute, xylophone, and so on (fine, minus the last 2). And seriously, just by this wonderful act of musical love, changed my outlook of the Suit. Perhaps my friend there was a musician, who always dreamed of being in a band, got married had a baby or two and sacrified it all to take care of his family. Maybe he's in a band, and they played all weekend long. Who knows. But it definitely shows that I am way too hasty to judge and am missing out on a lot of undercover characters.

Primetime Bachelorette?

2008-07-03T05:54:00.000-07:00

While riding the bus into work this morning, I got a way early phone call from my friend Hennessey. We chatted it up with some light ladi-dah conversation when all of sudden her voice changed and said, "hey, I have a question for you. Can I nominate you to be the next Bachelorette"? I replied with a ,"HA are you kidding me"??

Hennessey explained that they are looking for the next Bachelorette and thinks I'd be just perfect for it, how I'd make for good reality TV and so on. So I agreed. HOW FUNNY WOULD THAT BE?

Later, as I walked to work, started to daydream about my season and I've come up with two case scenarios.

1. I'd be on the show, meet the guys, and they would all be super tools, like the ones on "I Love NY" or "Tila Tequila". They would obviously be these grossed-out benny-ish guys with huge muscles squished in little t-shirts, with terrible tribal tattoos and impeccable eyebrows. The guys would so be the ones who try to trick me that they love me after 2 days, in order to advance their careers, or so sappy wah wah-delusional in love with lovers that I'd want to throw up. And perhaps I would. Daily. When the producers interview me about how I felt about each guy I would say, "ugh, omg he is terrible. What were you thinking when you picked him for me." "Oh and him? Ugh booooring. I couldn't see myself with ANY of them." This would lead me to be hated by many and enjoyed by few.

2. Perhaps the producers would inquire in what times of guys I liked and I would reply with, "Umm. Artists. Writers. Musicians. CHARACTERS. Kinda dirty, lots of tattoos. Weird. And makes me laugh". Maybe they would create a new spin-off show "Character Showdown!" in which 20 crazy weirdos would be competing for my affections. Ahh that would be wonderful. And in order to be on the show, they would have to provide a list of favorite books, movies, pictures of their tattoos, and have to live in the NYC area (including Brooklyn, Hoboken, JC, etc.) I am not falling in love on prime time television just to be disappointed when I discover my love lives in Montana. And I'd like my show to be live or as close as possible. I don't want to wait 5 months until we are reunited on the reunion special and have my heart broken when my character has grown tired of me.

So get ready, Fall 2008, for I will be the NEXT Bachelorette!

Never Take An Urban Hike In Heels

2008-06-30T06:16:00.000-07:00

As a young worker of NYC, there are certain things I have given up in exchange for comfort. About a year ago and just starting out, I wore heels all the time. And I mean as in I walked to work (where at the time would be a hot 6 avenues or so) and then wore them for the remainder of the day. In my mind, I was miserable, but what was the alternative? To wear SNEAKERS with my fun spring dress? Oh no, no no no.

Alas, I have wised up along the way and traded my heels in for uggs & moccasins in the winter (ha I know, don't say anything) and now I live in flip-flops. Sometimes I'll sneak a pair of fun high-wedge sandals, but after last Wednesday, they may also be retired.

Geraldine, my brother's friend Kyle, & I arranged to go have happy hour because we all work in Midtown and well, come on, who doesn't love happy hour? Between the three of us, I'm all the way up on 54th and Madison, Gerald on 42nd and Broadway, & Kyle on 33rd and 7th (something like that). We agreed at this place Kyle picked out (god bless his 22 year old little heart. At first, when he recommended a place, I assumed it would be a dive..sorry Kyle. I knew myself at 22 and she liked cheap drinks, which evidently equalled cheap vodka.)

But he introduced us to an un-tapped resource. All I have to say is: Good crowd. $3.50 mixed drinks (and I'm talking like decent hard liquors) and CHINESE food. Oh it was amazing. Needless to say the happy hour crossed over to happy night.

The smart thing to do at the time was walk myself down to Geraldine's office and then together we'd go to the place where we were meeting Kyle. Stupid me, I guess I over-estimated my abilities in wedge sandals thinking, "oh no no, it'll be fine. You always wear heels".

Wrong. 5 avenues up and 12 streets down, my feet started to sweat (I know, something you don't want to here about, but sorry. It's summer. Sue me). And I started slipping around in my sandals. But not too badly....

So I scooped up Geraldine and together we walked along, chatting it up about this and that and all the while I was slipping, like tripping all over the sidewalk, as if I was drunk. Like a sloppy stupid all day drunkity drunk.

The first trip we laughed.

The second, again "haha, what is wrong with you"?

The third, "Ok Kristine! ENOUGH! Seriously"!!

Then the fourth.

We continued to walk and laugh at my falling misfortunes and then there I went AGAIN. On a child. In a stroller.

Yes. I fell into a child who was just taking a nice afternoon walk with it's Nanny. As I fell through the air, I felt someone pulling me forward, in attempts to save the child, who at the time looked at me like a deer in headlights (I'm sure it was more like - what the hell is wrong with this girl). I thought it was Geraldine coming to my rescue, but no. Just some random guy, I'm assuming coming up from behind for a free body feel-up. Awesome.

So luckily, the child was surprisingly cool, or else he or she was a New Yorker who expected the unexpected. I would say it's Nanny was the more upset one of the two.

Hence. The moral of the story. Do not walk around the city in the summer in heels. You're only asking to fall onto children in strollers.

A Wednesday Double Take

2008-06-25T11:47:00.000-07:00

In the magical land of Midtown, where there are literally three million places to get a sandwich, who in their right mind would think, "hmm maybe I'll go to DUANE READE and pick something up for lunch...mm and some raisins..."

Oh that's right. It was the sweaty balding-middle-aged-businessman (I know, the very best) in front of me in line about an hour ago.

Really...?

Character Storm

2008-06-24T13:11:00.000-07:00

I always assumed that everyone had random strangers approach them for conversation. I'll be just minding my own business, reading Harry Potter or chattering away with E on the train and the person next to me/us needs to exchange life details. Or sometimes it's the person standing beside me at the cross walk, asking how my day is and why I appear to be in such a good mood. E has informed me that it isn't the norm and apparently the weirdos just come after me.

I thought maybe it was just in my head until Saturday rolled around. Or it could be that Red Bank is the breeding grounds for the friendly. I worked at Siam Garden that particular day (it's a restaurant I have worked at off & on for years. Every so often I'll go in for extra cash) so took the train into Red Bank kinda early with the intentions of walking around and basking in the sun for a bit. As I stepped off the train, I noticed a guy staring at me. Whatever. People stare, no big deal. While I walked and thought about where to go first, was abruptly interrupted by random dude from train, waving his hands trying to get my attention.

RDFT: Hey! Don't I know you! Kristine right? KRISTINE! You dated PAUL!

Me: Paul? PAUL. Hmmm, Paul Paul Paul. OHHHH ok. Yes I did date Paul. Like SIX years ago (side note in my mind: how in god's green earth did he remember me? I didn't remember him. )

RDFT: It's me, GUY!!

Me: Ohhhhh right right, Guy. Well...... how have you been?

Guy goes into his life, how he's been working for a pool installation company for the past 4 years, how he lives down near the shore, how he doesn't drive and only takes the train, and so on. Then he asked what's new with me and my life, which I thought was stupid because it's not as if he ever knew about it before hand. Unless Paul told him. But then again, he did remember me, so maybe he also remembered my life.... hmmm. I wonder. Well, through the pointless conversation, the only thing I was really interested in was: how was Paul doing anyway? You know, the actual link to Guy & I.

Guy: Well, Paul and I aren't friends anymore. We uhh... drifted apart. He went away to school at the New School (to which I interrupted with a -----oooh! Does he live in the City...of course I was envisioning a reunion special with Paul).

"No no no", said Guy, "he is back living in Colts Neck....I think. I mean we don't really talk anymore."

As we walked along, talked about the beach and the weekend, all very ladi-blah. Finally, we reached our fork in the road, so I said, "well nice to see you? Have a good day."

I had a feeling he'd ask me for my number. Not to toot my own horn, but sometimes you can feel that vibe. And I was correct.

G: Well here, gimme your number, we can hangout or go to the beach sometime.

Me: I don't live here. I don't know when.....(stalling)

G: Come on! your going to be down one time or another and I'll come up to visit you in the city!!

At this stage it's clear: I'm guessing
a) he doesn't get girls to talk to him as long as I did, which was basically due to the fact that he was walking in my direction. He thought conversation = long lasting relationship.

b) if he only intended on us hanging out once or twice, it was clearly just a ladi-dah sex thing. Um I was not attracted to him and had no desire in pursuing anything. PLUS isn't it wierd that I dated someone he was once close with...And whom I would love to run into ....hmmm I don't like the sounds of Guy.

So about 2-4 minutes of me protesting to give him my number, I said fine. FINE. I asked him if he had a phone to put my number in and he replied with, "well.....I don't have a phone right now, so I'll probably call you from a pay phone, if that's OK with you.."

What did I say you wonder?

WHAT? Are you a pimp! Homeless?? Who uses pay phone any more. They are disease breeders! (bleh)

I've gotten two phone calls since from an unknown number and a message. How does it ALWAYS work that the ones you never want to hear from think you two are soul mates and the ones you pray to the good lord to hear from magically disappear?

ANYWAY, I walked away and started laughing to myself. It was all too much: between the train, the payphone, and Paul-friend citing, I had to call E (who never called me back, thanks alot)

Afterwards, I went to Zebu for gelato (omg amazing amazing) and decide to go browse through some stores. While in a shop, the girl who worked there called me out and exclaimed that she's always wanted a tattoo on her foot, how lately it had been a shark, always wanted to see one and then I came in having it!

From here we got into a nice little Q & A about tattoos (which I love to talk about anyway) and where to go. This type of random character chatter is the kind I enjoy. It was cute because she was younger (maybe 18 or so) and genuinely excited. I wanted to hug her and take her under my wing.

The following day, E & I were heading to Panerra to work on some writing and I told her about my day and then---- WEIRD. The man behind us engaged himself in our conversation and then felt the need to talk about his weekend, his boat, where he lived and so on. 10 minutes later, I have his card in my hand and can't help but be amused and grateful. What's better for the girl that loves character than for them to love her too?

Shuffle Run Thursday

2008-06-17T06:46:00.000-07:00

In case you haven't noticed, I love characters dearly and am lucky enough to attract pah-lenty of them in my normal day to day life. As time goes by, I have almost become immuned to the unexpected, but certainly do not take it for granted. Oh no no. I love them all.

I work during the day in an office and it is pretty typical. Cubes and conference rooms and coffee and phones ringing and no, the phone is never for me, but for the five sales reps that sit behind me and sell ads all day. If there is the slight chance that someone is calling for me, it is either my mom, Chia, or Hen.

After hearing horror stories from my friend Nina about how terrible one of her last office jobs was, I was petrified entering the office workforce. I'm the type of person who has no problem being alone if I don't find anyone I really click with. That may appear to be isolating and weird, which may be true. But thats me. What can you do? In present situation, I lucked out where everyone has been super welcoming and while they are all good friends, seem happy to include whoever. There isn't really anyone who I loathe or get really angry with when I see them. And to top it off, we have a few characters in the office and that is where this blog is leading to, in case you were wondering : )

By far my favorite characters in the office include:

The Cowboy: He works in my cubicle island, has the greatest Texas accent, and wears Levi's and cowboy boots.

Hushpuppy: Yes he wears hush puppies. I've seen so far white and brownish-beige ones. And he is usually decked out in the best colorful and coordinated outfits, very Stanford Blanche from Sex & The City. He's great

Oh, you know what, there is one person that makes me cringe...and that would be"The Mystery Cougher". He isn't full time here at the office and usually works from home. The only reason I dislike his presence is because he coughs all day long. And it's one of those explosive coughs thats coming from the bottom of his feet. Oh its the worst. And while on the phone, he punches his desk (I'm assuming in the heat of passion or just being so engrossed in what he's trying to sell)! Fine fine, punch away, except, OH THAT'S RIGHT, he sits at the cube behind me and by his punching, causes my entire desk to shake. I seriously want to cry when he comes in because it just means that he will be shaking my desk for the entire day.

The best office character though is Shuffle-Runner, and yes you guessed it, he does not walk. I don't know if he is capable of doing so, but shuffle runs all through the office. You always know where he is by the sweet sound of, how do you explain it, hmm, as if someone was rubbing a balloon on a carpet. Everytime he run along, I can't help but wonder how many electric shocks he gets once he eventually gets back to his desk

He is the type of person who enjoys weird conversations, but is also a frantic whisperer, so you end up just laughing and saying, "oh hhhaa yeah, right, oh yeah I know I know..haha right right, ok good bye".

Last Thursday, I was in the media room making thousands of copies when all of a sudden, who shuffles in to make copies... yeah you guessed it! Shuffle Runner! We get into a conversation about tattoos because I have some and he mumbled/whispered something about making his own.

SR: Well I have enough scars to consider them to be a tattoo

KC: Oh? Why? What does that mean?

SR: Well one time I was snorkeling in Belize...

KC: (I'm assuming here is when I formed a "oooo lucky, why haven't I gone snorkeling in Belize face/pout)

SR:....when out of nowhere a boat pulled up to where we were snorkeling...

SR: ....and they dumped some garbage on me....

KC: (WHAT!!!!)

SR: And then a shark came and mistook me for garbage and bit me.

KC: WHAT THE HELL (while dropping all thousand papers onto the floor). How are you still standing here!! How did you get the shark away??

SR: Welll everyone I was swimming with left me because they didn't want to get bit too.

KC: ARE YOU KIDDING ME!

So he continued about two more minutes of this story, which included details such as "two hundred stitches" and "ripping through my shoulder like butter", and I had enough and sprinted to my desk to tell anyone I was chatting with mid-day about this random story.

Unanswered questions:

a) How did he survive? I mean how do you get away from a shark? That just mind-boggles me.

b) How do you stay friends with people when they leave you in the mercy of a shark?

c) How does getting bit by a shark have anything to do with getting tattoos?

d) How did I not hear this story SOONER!

The Word Of The Day Is Harry Potter!

2008-06-13T06:35:00.000-07:00

A long time ago, when Harry Potter was still brand new to the world, I made a vow to myself to never get included in the HP hoopla-craze. How could I, a well read and maybe 22 year old or so at the time, ever like a book that children too loved? I would laugh at the people over the years who dressed up as their favorite characters for the new book release parties and movie premieres. Haha not me. No no nevvvver.

Skip forward to I'm guessing 2006-ish, when my friend Chiarina met & fell in love with Harry and I probably and I assume I said, "Nooooo! Why?? How??What"! And she happily stated to the world that no only was Harry Potter her favorite books series, but also her favorite movies. Chia pleaded with me to give him a chance. She would try to get me to come over her house for Harry Potter movie nights and ploy the books off onto me, saying, "just read one of them! Just try!" And I would firmly say, "nah, I don't think so, meh meh, blah blah." She wanted me to try it out before I was so hasty to judge. And now looking back, I did hate on HP for no reason. I knew nothing about the story or the characters OR how amazing and wonderful the story is.

Oh yeah, by the way, I am currently OBSESSED with Harry Potter. Yup, Chia and Jay (her bf at the time, now fiance, who also happens to be one of my close friends as well) got me to watch the movies, where I stubbornly said, "yeah, they were pretty good, FINE I'll take some books", as if doing them a favor. But once one and two were done, I HUNGERED for more.

Do you want to know what I did last night? At the height of my Harry Potter craze, I not only watched "Harry Potter & The Prisoner of Azkaban", but then I finished reading "Harry Potter & Order of The Phoenix"! And yes, both made me cry!

So now onto book 6 and then book 7, meaning the Harry Potter series will be over for me. Is it weird that this is something I fear and get deeply saddened over? That after reading the books, I feel so bad for Harry and want to give him a hug? Yes, I think its crazy too...

But we still have the new movies to look forward to.

Now the next issue is deciding who (Chia, Jay, or I) gets to dress like Harry for the next movie premier. I think I'll give them Harry if I can be Ron. Or maybe Hagrid.

The Stalker Edition

2008-06-06T12:00:00.000-07:00

Today was pretty much like any other soberly-full night slept morning. Got to the city around 8, early I know, because I had to buy a new phone (wooo, blackberry). I leisurely walked my way through the crowds of tourists in Times Square, passed by the sounds of Chris Brown singing in the Plaza, and treated myself to a flavored coffee.

But today was a little different. I was standing on the corner of 47th and Broadway, waiting for the light to change, and there he was. I haven't really been blown away by some one's beauty in a long time, so I swear, he took me completely off guard.

He was tall and surfer lean. Hot. hot hot hot. He kinda looked like Nate from "Gossip Girl", but the surfer not-so-pretty version. He casually strolled along to work, carrying a large bottle of water and broken in paperback book. So what did I do? Yeah, you guessed it. I followed him and basically lurked behind him for a good block or so.

I know, I know. What was the point of the chase? It wasn't like I was going to say anything. And what did I expect? That he would turn around and be blown away by my beauty and just NEED to know me. Turned out not only was he beautiful, but had a sick personality and awesome sense of humor? Three weeks later, we would be happily in love and planning our wedding?

Sigh

Just say I did manage to get Beach Nate, it would obviously be a disaster because I'd be so intimidated by his beauty. Everytime we'd get together, I'd be super awkward, clumsy, and never making any sense..... unless I had a cocktail or two. Beach Nate would lose interest because he would not want to date a girl who only wanted to go for drinks and if he could get me to a sober function, it would be pointless because I wouldn't be capable of making a normal or complete sentence.

I swear, what a joke of a life I lead...and I say that it in the best possible way

Free Lunch Tuesday & Why I Don't Mind So Much Being Poor

2008-06-05T07:00:00.000-07:00

As a low-paid advertising assistant, you could only imagine how much I like free things. Lucky for me (and the rest of the NYC assistants), the city is full of promotions. May in particular was a great month for freeness. There were free coffee Wednesdays at Starbucks, in which I happily traveled to all 5 or so locations around my office for a coffee. I don't think I even needed that 3rd of 4th cup, but my brain kept on chanting , "free! Free! Go get it, it's free!". Fine, you win.

But the best, by far the best freeness was at The Volstead (54th and Lexington). To promote their lunch menu and to get us workers nearby to realize they actually had lunch there, TV decided to do FREE LUNCH Tuesdays for the entire month of May. E & I were seriously beside ourselves. I suppose we weren't really the right people to be going, considering (if you have read previous posts, you probably heard about the pathetic lunches we usually conger up) we don't go out to lunch and if so, go for the cheapness-on-the run, not sit down high-end meals. But whatever, we travel to the freeness, so finally after weeks of being turned away, got in on the last Tuesday. And it was wonderful. Seriously.

We started with these little pieces of toasted Italian-ish bread, topped with a spinach dip and thinly sliced pieces of steak. I have had this before at the Volstead (my friend Nina works there, so have gone a few times) and it is amazing. SO tasty. We also had tempura salmon rolls, which was ok. I don't think I'd ever order it again (and definitely not pay) but it was good to try.

Then for lunch, I had a pulled pork sandwich and E had a lobster roll. Thank you thank you Volstead! I figure we deserved to eat heartily because if you put together all the years I've been contributing to the mother company (they own Red and Downtown in Red Bank, and P.S. etc. in the city) have put out lots and lots of $$ their way. So there.

Before going to lunch that day, E sent me this link from an article in NY Times about people, like her & I, as well as many friends I have, about the 20-somethings who even though don't make alot of money, learn to make it stretch to live in this area.

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/05/25/nyregion/25scrimp.html?pagewanted=2&ei=5087&em&en=3a026e390ef12a77&ex=1212033600

I have very mixed emotions after reading this article. The idea is great. I think it is very reassuring to us low-paiders to know we aren't alone and there is still hope, even though you aren't actually raking in the money.

BUT. The people NY Times chose to profile didn't seem to be realistic. You got
(a) the girl who shipped her clothes back and forth. That is not typical. Who does that? Just her. (b) the guy who makes 60k a year and was still complaining. Um I'd be skipping back and forth to work every day if I made that much. Come on.
(c) the chick who ate peanuts for dinner and consciencely resorted to flirting for drinks? Come on sister, where's your dignity. Sure, it's always a nice perk as a girl to get a free drink. But lowering yourself to save $7-$15 (depending on what your drinking and where), your can do a lot better.

But there were some super great & realistic things stated in this article that I actually said out loud ---omg that's me.

"Some tactics have long been chronicled: sharing tiny apartments with strangers. Sharing those apartments with eight strangers. Eating cheap lunches and skipping dinners — not just to save money, but so that drinks pack more of a punch and fewer need be consumed."

So here are some of my tips to live well and work in the city, how I keep myself healthy and fed, but still have a dollar or two in my pocket.

Food
You have to be creative and not mind eating the same things everyday. I buy a box of oatmeal every week and a half or so and make myself a pouch every morning. Lucky for me, coffee is free here at the office, so that saves a few dollars a day.

Then for a mid-morning snack, I'll usually have a big orange, which is 75 cents from the fruit man on the corner outside my building.

Lunch is peanut butter & jelly, or left overs from the night before and a bag of pretzels.

THEN dinner. I will usually go to A&P and buy bags of veggies (which usually go for a $1.50 or so), steam them, and mix it all up with tofu and steamed rice. I also have all sorts of Asian sauces (terriyaki, fish sauce, soya, sechuan, peanut sauce etc.), so when you blend it all together, you are left a nice healthy and hearty meal. Other favorite dishes include angel hair pasta topped with broccoli and chicken sauteed with garlic and olive oil, or Tom Yum soup with rice . Tom yum is an AMAZING Thai soup that is super good and pretty inexpensive to make. Ingredients include: fish sauce, lime juice, chicken broth, chili paste, lemon grass, and either shrimp, chicken, tofu...basically anything.

Living
I live in Hoboken, which I guess compared to these people in the story is way cheaper. I live (like so many people I know) with 2 other girls in an apartment, whom I found on craigslist. Lucky for me, they are both cool and live well together.

Out & About
This is where I find my money goes through the quickest. The article is dead on when they mention "pre-gaming" before going out because it is absolutely a must. My friends and I try to look for the open bars and good happy-hour specials, where drinks will end up being way cheaper. We also look for free readings and events that we are not only interested in, but know will be serving wine & cheese.

I could go on & on, but seriously, if your a creative person and want everything that NYC has to offer, there is ALWAYS a way. Looking back, I'm sure I'll chuckle at my twenty-something self that chose to eat the same thing every single day in favor of going out all weekend instead.

Customer Service DOES NOT mean Customer Servant!

2008-05-28T13:07:00.000-07:00

In preperation for my friend Courtney's wedding (which is on Saturday. And yes I am a bridesmaid, my very first time), I decided to go get a manicure & pedicure during my lunch break today. And what a treat it was. I hardly get my nails done, so a nice foot massage and pretty nails is always a wonderful luxury.

So I sat in a magical massage chair, smiling away as the Asian lady massaged my feet, but couldn't help but over hear what was going on to my left. The girl next to me was probably some sort of office worker, based on her trousers & blouse (which is the only place you wear and can actualy describe your attire as a "blouse" and "trousers"), horrible highlighted hair, and a mean look to her. T&B barked to her Russian nail woman, "I want a french manicure, but you MUST cut my nails"!!!!

RNW: (in Russian accent) eeef you vant a fracht manicure, I ghcan not cut your nails. it von't work.

T&B: Well I need them to be cut, they are going over my sandals and making it very uncomfortable to walk. FINE (she said, while shooing the Russian with one hand and typing feverishly on her blackberry with the other), just paint them pink please. I don't have all day.

HORRIFIED. That's all I can say. This got me thinking. Obviously, she had never worked in customer service because if she did, would have known THAT IS NOT HOW YOU TREAT PEOPLE. If you have never been in the position of working in a restaurant, store, or anywhere else where you work for the people, you may think they in fact are your slave, or I guess technically your servant because you are paying them. Well your wrong. Wrong wrong wrong!

Having been a waitress on & off for just about 9 years or so (yup started out at the tender age of 16, serving the masses at the House of Coffee), I have seen it all, ranging from the nicest customers you could ever hope for to the ones that degrade you so lowly that you want to cry and then shove your 10% tip back in their pocket. Seriously, why is it the ones who treat you poorly tip so badly? Oh, because they never worked in the food industry and don't realize you get paid $3 an hour and depend on the tip. AND obviously have no consideration for their fellow human beings.

Phewww I need to take a minute to breath....

Ok,

There are only a few get of jail free cards for people to be obnoxious.

1) The Russians. While working at Siam Garden (A Thai place I worked at for years & years), we had a huge Russian client base (I know, random). They always barked orders and snapped, demanded things right away. Any other person in the world I would have murdered, but ahh the Russians. They paid in cash & tipped amazingly. As long as you were quick and able to deal with their bullshit, it was always worth it.

2) People who have horrible and strange allergies (nuts and gluten I would say are the worst). These are the types who ask for annoying requests and modifications, but feel so bad, and don't get angry for waiting alittle longer because they want something not on the menu.

3) People who have children. If I was to see children walking through the door, would stop dead in my tracks and beg and plead in my mind that it wasn't my turn in the rotation. But it always was. In which case, it better be at an early time as not to annoy the other guests, the family of children better move along quickly, and NOT make a mess.

How many times have I had to deal with parents who would just shrug and nervously giggle a"oh I'm sorry for the mess".... PICK UP AFTER YOUR CHILD. I am not you OR your child's house keeper. The only way to keep me at peace is to eat quickly, tip normally, and leave promptly.

I'm telling you, if I ever have the opportunity to own a restaurant, there will be a sign in the window that says:

THIS IS NOT A CHILD FRIENDLY ESTABLISHMENT.
There are NO Booster Seats.
NO Highchairs.
NO Children's menu.
and NO admittance of strollers or children after 6
: ) Thank you and enjoy your meal.

That being said, karma is a bitch. Be nice to your server. They are ones performing a duty for you, whether it be serving your meal, doing your nails, giving the massage, and so on. Kindness goes a long way. I know I put WAY more effort into those who treat me with respect when I'm in my server shoes. And let me tell you, I have seen some horrible things other waiters and waitresses have done to customers when treated poorly.

Sounds About Right...

2008-05-23T08:10:00.000-07:00

Last night we went out and about for Nina's birthday. Before meeting up with some people for dinner, Nina, her friend Mary, & I popped by P.S. for a few drinks and some business men started to chat us up.

The usual break-the-ice conversations proceeded: How old are you? Where do you live? Where do you work? Have you ever been here before? What are your plans tonight? And so on.

Then one of the business man pointed at me & Mary, while asking Nina, "so what do they do?"

Nina replied, "Well Mary is in charge of lots of things and keeps things in order. Sometimes she tells people what to do".

"And Kristine, she writes blogs and eats sour patch kids!"

Yup. That sounds just about right.

25 Year Old Spinster....??

2008-05-23T07:15:00.000-07:00

As you may have figured, I am very picky when it comes to the guys I date. Well, I wouldn't say necessarily picky, but I absolutely listen to my gut and don't just "try things out" if I'm not sure. I'd rather be in 100% and absolutely smitten. What happens in the 50/50 cases? I get bored, disappointed with myself, cold and distant one day and happy the other. Eventually I end up screwing around with someone's mind, leaving them with thoughts of "what happened" and obviously cursing the day they ever met and fell for me.

That being said, I tend to be single more than I am taken. And that's fine. I'd rather wait for something amazing and wonderful, instead of having mediocre bleh boyfriends. So it really amazes me when people who are older ( married or seriously attached) find it's their duty (on purpose or just by un-intentionally making conversation) to not only ask you why, but comfort you that someday you will find someone and give helpful ways to go about meeting people

Exhibit A: Mother's Day Weekend

This weekend in particular was a mad-scene. Not only was it Mother's Day, but it was also my friend Courtney's Bachelorette Party. I wondered how it would work out going to a Bachelorette Party the night before a Mother's Day brunch. I assumed obviously drink-portion control was out of the question and would have to suck it up and be miserable the entirety of Sunday.

I rushed around Saturday afternoon, getting ready, buying gifts for Court and my Mom, and somehow got to her parent's house just in the nick of time to have a drink and chat some people up.

When everyone arrived, we loaded into cars and headed for dinner at this place The Inlet Cafe in The Highlands. I'd never eaten there before, so was very pleasantly surprised to the Cajun Feast (yum miscellaneous sea foods in a spicy Cajun sauce) for an appetizer, followed by an entree of angel hair pasta with lobster and asparagus tips in a tasty possible Parmesan type of sauce and a cheese burger split between me and my friend Geraldine. Doesn't get better than that.

After a stolio-o and club or three, I stood up and headed into the bathroom when surprise, who was waiting on line? The mother of the bride! I have known Mrs. O'Callaghan for years and years (spent the mas-majority of 1995-2000 at their home), so naturally, we started chatting about the wedding and life etc.

Me: I can't believe they are getting married so soon. It has really snuck up! Wow two weeks away (something like that).

Mrs. O: Well they have been dating for 7 years, it was time (again something along the lines of that). And your next! Do you have anyone special or....

Saved. A stall freed up and Mrs. O'Callaghan went in. I breathed a sigh of relief. What would I have said otherwise? *awkward laugh* haha no, no.... no one special. But you know, I'm looking. bleh blah

Lies lies. I'm not looking to get married. I keep my eyes open for people I can stand more than 5 minutes. But how do you tell that to a mom without sounding like a horror and obnoxious?

So the bachelorette party came and went. Very good time. We took a limo down to a shore spot and danced the night away.

The next morning I awoke around 6, fully dressed, laying on top of my purse, in my old bedroom at my parent's house. I wasn't hungover, but could see it emerging if I didn't hydrate myself within the next few minutes. So I raced downstairs, gulped down some water, brought some up with me, and went back to sleep. Around 8, I woke up again and figured I should take a shower so I could let my hair dry while I slept.

Surprisingly, by the time we left for the "Mothers & Others" party at my mom's friend Andreas', I was feeling good and hoping there would be some nice wine at this fiesta.

Wrong. 3 choices:White Merlot, White Zinfandel, & Budweiser. Thanks a lot Andrea.

But the food spread was great and I happily mingled with the group of guests and ate my little heart out. Before we got to the party, my mom warned me of this one couple who were kind of weird and that I may or may not like. When we did eventually meet, you could tell instantly that they were socially awkward and hard to believe 1/2 of what they said because it was all TOO MUCH. Their form of chit-chat was so so forced and practiced, as if they rehearsed on the way to the party. And soooo loopy - Come on, they do tai-chi, brought pictures of their plants from home, and the woman wore a kimono and spoke all new-agey, but way too polite. It's hard to explain. Next time you run into me , ask. I do a really good impersonation.

Of course these are my favorite types of characters, the people I just can't understand, so ended up talking to them quite a bit that day.

The good questions the woman asked me:

So tell me Kristine, what is it like being young now-a-days?

Where are the great places to eat in Hoboken? My husband and I have NEVER been there, but what happens if we drove through? It would be nice to have a list of places just in case, you never know.

You should be happy to be as spiritually evolved as yourself. How lucky it is to have a mother likes yours. Tell me, how does it feel to have grown up in such an open and spiritual home?And then:

Tell me, how are the men now? From the single girls point of view? How is it? Tell me I'm so fascinated.

So of course I got in a shpeil about the lack of guys and how I haven't met anyone mildly entertaining in a while , how I like being single, don't want to get married for a while, want to settle in my career before any thoughts of settling down come into play blah blah, totally putting up a defence because what was I going to do? Just shrug and say fine fine, which could have been confused with sadness and bad-self esteem? Hell no. I wanted her to regret asking such a dumb question.

THEN came the finale. I was getting tired and so casually told/reminded my mom -I need to go back to Hoboken, let's go let's let's go!!!! As we began to say our goodbye's, the woman said to me, while placing her hand on my shoulder,

"Kristinnnnne, I've been meaning to tell you (all very drawn out and dramatic), I met my husband in a personal ad and we've been together for 10 --- looong --- years. My mother did the same. So I wanted to tell you there's hope. There's still hope".

I reply, "oh haha that's great," all the while giving my mother the ARE YOU KIDDING ME, WHAT THE HELL ARE WE STILL DOING HERE eye. "Thank you, thank you for the words of encouragement".

So does it come down to show us that there is no use of a defense because at the end of the day, once you reach a certain age, no matter where you are in life or how much you protest to settling, the only right way is to be coupled and paired? Should I be, at 25, stored away and compartmentalized? In which case, I am immediately fleeing the country in search of a single girl island where independence is praised and marriage is in no rush. Where to? Maybe Australia?What are their views there? Definately something to look into...

Edgy Bobs & The Kicking Homeless

2008-05-20T07:54:00.000-07:00

A few months ago, my friend Nina mentioned something about this hairsalon school, Bumble & Bumble University, where you can go and get your hair cut for free! She had just gotten her haircut and it turned out great. Obviously, being the super broke girl that I am, jumped at the chance, raced to find their website, and signed up to be notified for their next open call. http://www.bbumodelproject.com/

I never heard back from them, so put the thought out of mind and that was that.

THEN, last week, I got an email informing me that there would be an open call for the "Razor Bob" on Monday 5/19, with refreshments. Whoa, how did they know that I've been itching for a bob and some bangs & free snacks (which didn't look super appetizing, so I opted for a cup of lemonade). It seemed that about 300 other people also loved the idea of a new edgy razor bob, so we all had the joy of waiting on a painfully long line.

It was a very odd mix. The majority were NYC-scenesters with already super-trendy bobishness, who I could only imagine aimed for extreme intensity. Then there were those like me (well not me typically, usually my hair is natural and wavy, but for the occasion and to make it easier for them to see if it would be good for my hair), had shoulder length straight hair. Finally there were those I couldn't quite figure out. I suppose they ignored the fact that a "razor bob" isn't always good for everyone and focused more on the "I MAY GET A FREE A HAIR CUT"!! At least five people that I saw had intense curls. You know, those curls that look painful to brush through. AND you want a bob? Not going to look good girls. Come on. They would sit down & fill out their paper work, happily imagining their crazy-curly bob. Then you could actually see the happy cloud burst when the hair stylist to determine if it would make a good fit replied, "um. your hair is way too curly. I don't think this would make a good look for you, sorry". And then the curlies would get all pouty because not only did they miss out on a free haircut, but also lost out on their lunch break.

Lucky for me, I am razor bob material! Adios low-maintenance haircut! Get ready for edgy KC! Well minus all the hair in my face and the crimps. I just want something cool and little more stylish than what I'm working with now. My hair presently is more beach-waves-ladi-dah-I don't do anything to my hair but let it dry. I'm sure I'll go back to it sooner or later, but for now will be back, itch for something new and fun.

Anyway, I got my appointment (6/27), walked out of the building, and realized- oh god I just took a 2 hour lunch!

Side note: I am completely lost downtown. Once the streets start losing numbers and gaining names, I get all panicky and I'm sure look like a frantic German tourist. So I rushed around like a mad lady (good for me, wearing fun, but not good walking spring sandals) in search of the subway.

Finally I saw it and happily made my way, when all of a sudden I noticed a man in a suit & a weirdo homeless man yelling at each other. Then the homeless man lurched forward and attempted to kick the business man! The BM jerked backwards and waved his arms in circles to shoo the WHM away. They broke it up and the WHM continued his way down the street. Towards me. Oh god. I wobbled awkwardly forward to the farthest corner of the sidewalk, hoping he wouldn't notice or try to harm me.
Wrong.

He looked at me and muttered, "you too bitch"! and threw himself forward to kick me!

I replied -OMG!! Are you kidding!!" and looked around to people to help me, who instead uselessly watched with their mouths open.

Luckily, WHM wasn't into it as much as he was when kicking the BM and only flopped his foot my way, missed and continued back to his shopping cart.

At this point I was shaking and breathing heavy, imagining myself having to go back to work all dirtied up and explaining that I was attacked by a homeless man in the Village.

The things I'll do for a free haircut.

My Shallowness Knows No Bounds....

2008-05-15T09:19:00.000-07:00

Morning Email to E:

So I'm walking along Fifth Avenue a day or two ago and happen to be trapped behind a hand-holding couple. The girl was probably a good 5'11 vs. her boyfriend who was a mere 5'5 or so. I then get into a conversation in my head, with myself, about these girls who can actually go through with it and date someone super short.

My first thought was that the girl was obviously so desperate for a man that she'd take just about anything, including the shortest man in the room.

Then I thought of you & A and figured that maybe some of these girls get trapped into the "I met him at a bar, got drunk, hooked up, he was so good in bed and ended up being super cool, so eventually ended up dating and falling in love" The girl basically agrees to sacrifice wearing heels for love.

BUT THEN I thought of my sister, who is not desperate and despite being 40, still gets hit on all the time. In that case, it must mean that she isn't shallow and personality is more important than height & looks.

Hence my reasoning behind why I would NEVER willingly date a short dude. I like wearing heels way too much.

I Like My Men How I Like My Jewerly....

2008-05-07T11:38:00.000-07:00

(just a note: this is probably my most shallow and offensive blog thus far. I apologize in advance for angering anyone. These are just my silly points of views.)

I am the first to admit that I am very fickle and insanely particular when it comes to dating. I pick my guy how I like my jewelry. I like weirdo-random-pieces (or guy, if you will) that no one else will have that are beautiful, quirky, unique, and hilarious all at the same time. But one little meh in the piece and/or dude and I'm immediately repulsed and need it to get out of my presence.

Deal Breakers: These are the superficial, but important things that I am immediately turned off by, which cause fleeing in the other direction.

1) Terrible off the tattoo-parlor wall tattoos. I am actually nauseated by these and look at them like they might as well be a huge gross mole or birth mark. A few years a go, I hooked up with this guy who was absolutely beautiful. Really, he was gorgeous. Then he introduced me to the large gaudy tribal dragon on his shoulder and immediately I wished for his shirt to be put back on. If you want to get a tattoo, put a little effort into it. Ok, maybe your not creative, but at least work with your tattoo artist to come up with something great. How horrifying it must be walking along a street one day, walk by a person, and do a double take to the art on their shoulder for your very own. This also goes for anything that was once or is currently super trendy (anything tribal, barbwire, Chinese, etc) or something super clique.

2) Remember a few years ago when every single cause (save the children, stop world hunger, save the environment, stop cancer, etc) made those plastic bracelets that people would buy to support them? Fine fine they were nice and great circa 2003. OMG let them go. I can't stand the sight of anyone wearing them anymore. I just feel like they are over-done & played out. What is the reasoning behind it? To show people you stand behind the cause? To show you are compassionate and d0nate? Only thing it says to me is that your lammmmme.

3) Weirdo bald spots. I know, there is no fighting male balding. I say once the balding starts to freak people out, it's time to be realistic and shave off the rest and get all cool and tough like Bruce Willis. Unless you have a funny shaped head. In that case, I say wear hats in every situation or get a hair style that is flattering for the balding man. And there are hair styles that are.

4) Piercings usually. But there are exceptions. If your all full-body tatted (but in the cool way, I'll get into that later) then the piercings just go along with it. But in the normal circumstances, I am over pierced ears, eyebrows, and anything else people get pierced. One exception. I still find lip piercings super hot. I don't know why. I just do.

5) Guys who compensate for lack of personality by waving their high priced paychecks in your face. I'd rather be with someone poor, but who has a super rich personality & humor vs. lots of money, but no conversation. I hate the paycheck braggers even more because obviously 65% or so of the population make more money than me. So not only are they boring me, but also remind me of how little I make.

6) Guys who drink girly drinks and can't hold their alcohol. Nothing is more unattractive than a sloppy boy after 2 Malibu bay breezes and a shot of red death.

7) Musical/Artsy/ anything/ elitists that think because they know more than you in a certain area, that they are obviously way better than you, and to top it off, obnoxiously let you know. I'm so typically attracted to artsy people and have, maybe once or twice, gotten involved with music snobs, who would put me down for not knowing a certain random song or band. I would then live in fear and tense up whenever we would listen to music together, knowing that at any moment there would be a musical quiz. I have the worst memory and no skills under pressure, so would obviously fail and get lead into a good 15 minutes of "Omg I can't believe you didn't know that. I am amazed, yadda yadda"

But there are also Immediate Moments of Chance:

1) Black rimmed glasses. Lie, glasses in general. I just love them.

2) Pretty much anyone who surfs, but doesn't get all possessive about their waves. Gotta love the surfers who just do it for fun and love the ocean and natural in general.

3) The random guy in the bar reading alone. I've gotten lured it by that once. I saw a guy sitting alone at a bar reading a book and I was gravitationally pulled in. Even better, he was able to back it up and we chatted about books and life the remainder of the night.

4) Musicians/artists/people who create, but don't refer to it as "their art". Something that they just need to do without constantly bragging about it or making it larger than life.

5) HOT tattoos. Omg I am a sucker for a creative and hot tattoo/sleeve/ whatever. Lately I have been chatting with guys about tattoos and am immediately interested in hearing people's tattoo stories and plans for the future.

6----??) Basically, anyone who is a character. The super weirdo in the mix who is dirty and ridiculous, who says weird things, and just embraces all the little kinks that makes them them. Right away I love you without knowing you. Maybe it's because I feel instant camaraderie. Who knows.

So to sum it, I am the poster child of fickleness and probably most guys worst fear. But at the end of the day, and not to sound corny, but when you do find that right person, all judgment and standards blow out the window. And that's what you gotta love about chemistry and instant connection. It always find ways to keep you on your toes and life interesting.

401(k), yay or nay?

2008-04-22T13:21:00.000-07:00

Within the past 2 months, I have quit my job and moved on into a more, how do I describe it? I guess a very classic office setting. I officially feel like I work in a real office. NO offense to the past job. I mean, it was a great starting off place into working in an office setting, which I never did before and met some awesome people. At the new job though, we have not one, but TWO conference rooms, a kitchen, and I work in a cube. Craziness. All I need is to start wearing office appropriate clothing and you could almost call me an adult.

Ha. Right. I wear weird jewerly and have visible tattoos.

Anyyyway, I am making a good 7k more at this job, but once taxes go through, I'm still not making anywhere near the threshold of comfort. And on top of that, you have to consider the money I should be giving up to my 401(k) ---another new office perk--- which when I eventually stop procrastinating and sign up for, will leave pennies in my pocket. I love the idea of being "responsible and thinking of my future". But ugh, who's going to pay for the young me, who wants cocktails and new summer party dresses?

Of course I'll put money away, I have to. And you want to know what really hits me? Seeing senior citizens doing jobs that you wouldn't have done when your were 14 and under-qualified for just about everything. I saw a grandpa-esque man handing out flyers on the street, in the rain just the other day. HELL no.

So where will I be then when I'm 65 and should be enjoying my golden years? Without my 401(k), I'll either be waitressing at a diner or driving around people's neighborhoods in the early morning distributing newpapers. I assume I'd be fired at both jobs immediately for being slow, too feeble minded, and spiteful. The end of my life will be saturated with hate focused on my younger former self who was super selfish and had no desire to save for the senior citizen Kristine.

So yeah, I better get on top of this 401(k) action because no way will I be handing out fliers or waitressing when I should be hanging out with my grandchildren and doing granny yoga.

The European Goddess

2008-04-18T10:15:00.000-07:00

For some weird reason, I must give off some odor that instantly attracts middle-aged European weirdos. I'm assuming my European perfume is a teaspoon of Diet Coke, 2 cups Oatmeal, and a sprinkle of "I have places to go and no desire to bullshit" dressing. But still, in just two weeks alone, I was literally stopped in my tracks to be chatted up upon.

One Friday afternoon, I was rushing to Penn Station because I was going to Middletown for the weekend. Juggling bags on my shoulder, I noticed a Spanish dude walking by my side, willing with his eyes for me to look in his direction.

(In heavy Spanish accent) Escoose me, but you look very familiar, do you go to Bah-ryant Pahk ever?
Me: Not in a while.
SD: Did you go to EN WHY YUU? Maybe that's were I've seen you....I teach Engleesh as a second language and blah blah....yadda yaddaing.

All the while, I was looking frantically around, trying to lock eyes with someone to rescue me or rob me, so at least distract the Spanish man and I could make my escape.

So finally he stopped and asked where I was going and if I was running late.

Me: Down to NJ and yes late late late.

From here, he got into another speech about teaching in NJ and being down in, get this, MIDDLETOWN.

SD: Ghave you ever been to MEEDLETOWN?
Me: Nope, NEVER. (Or I may have just grown up there, but whatever. We did not need to share something in common. I could only imagine how late I would have gotten back to NJ then).

FINALLY after a good 20 minutes of him jabbering and me painfully listening, I said- I NEED to go, fine take my number.

And apparently he called me 8 times.

Can I show my face in Bryant Park this year? Hmm I better cut and dye my hair and become incognito.

A week or so later, I decided it was too nice a day to sit indoors and should take a little stroll down Fifth Ave. I headed to H&M to look around for a new clutch. Or a dress. Or a nice shirt. Maybe a bracelet. Or all of the above.

I turned to my right and there was a middle-aged, maybe 50ish, Italian business man smiling at me. He began to walk with me and chat me up about my day. Within our 10 minute conversation, he

a) told me how cute I was, over and over and over again
b) that he worked in the diamond business and wanted to buy me jewelry "you like jewelry? (while kissing my hand), I will get for you".
c) that he would take me to Jamaica soon
d) wanted to wine and dine me
e) hugged me
f) kissed me hand
g) hugged me again
h) waved his friend over so they could bask in the glow of my beauty
i) said he would come with me to NJ for Easter because he wanted to spend time with me
j) couldn't understand why I wouldn't allow him to come to my parents home
k)oh, another hug, and then brushed his hand across my face, while saying, "so cute, so beautiful. I like you. I need to take you on a date.
l) said that Hoboken wasn't too far and I could still see him in the city.
m) because I didn't and still don't possess "don't give him my number" skills with Europeans, he got my number and I wasn't surprised when I got a phone call a week later.
n) said, I like you. I like. I LIKE you. I NEED to see you tonight. Yes, we will go out tonight.

He could easily be my sugar daddy. Unfortunately, I don't think I'd be a very good gold digger without being highly intoxicated every time we met up. I'd be getting paid to be a wealthy alcoholic. Don't get me wrong. He was a very attractive Italian diamond business man, but he was like the same age as my parents.

Maybe I should go on a date with him. We'll go to Jamaica and party, so he said.

Yet another reason why I'm single. Where are all the beautiful Brits? Why aren't they radiating towards me. Oh no no, of course I'm the sun for a certain brand of Europeans who are corny and overly-affectionate.

The First Spring Day

2008-04-14T19:15:00.001-07:00

My parents recently took a trip to Germany and to coax me into house sitting jokingly used the "well, we can either put Jessica to sleep or you can stay at the house for the week" trick. I mean, come on. What could I do? I wouldn't be able to live with myself knowing my selfishness was the reason our poor collie's life was cut short. Honestly, I really didn't mind. I was kind of looking forward to catching up with some people I haven't hung out with in a while and hit up some of the local week-night spots I used to go to before I got a job. Let me just say, I give you people who make that commute from Central Jersey to the City everyday a lot of credit. I felt emotionally and physically drained after doing it just a week. How my father has done it the past 30 years, I have no idea.

Jessica was a great dog. I would say by far one of the sweetest and loving beings I have ever met my entire life. She got along with all animals and people and truly wanted to make you happy. As she got older and older, her legs gradually got weaker and weaker, to the point of not being able to make it down stairs and often slipped on wooden and kitchen floors.

So around day five or so of house sitting, I came home to a horror of a sight. I walked into the kitchen and Jessica was sprawled on the kitchen floor, laying in her own filth, looking up at me so helpless and ashamed. I had absolutely no idea what to do. First, I tried to pick her up to help her stand, but her legs were so weak that she couldn't hold herself up. I carried her outside to the deck and started cleaning up the kitchen and calling people. First Hennessey to tell her I couldn't work out that night (which thankfully, she came over immediately to help), my brother and sister, and my mom & dad in Germany (ooops forgot about the time change. Cousin Juttah was NOT happy with me for calling at 1am). I then began to put the kitchen back together and sponge Jessica down. She was so sticky and sweaty and the stench that combination made was unbearable. She was so sadly uncomfortable and I could tell it hurt her, but what else could I do? I carried her to her bed and it was heart-breaking to see her unable to sit down and relax. Every few moments she would attempt to stand and then fall immediately after. For the rest of the night, Hen and I hung out with Jessie. I knew I would have to take her to the vet the following day if she didn't sleep through the night or mildly improve. I may have only slept an hour that night because Jessica wouldn't sit still. She couldn't get comfortable and was so frustrated with herself for being so weak. Around 4, unable to sleep, I called my mom in Germany and we agreed that I'd take her to the vet the next day and do whatever he thought was best.

Mind you, I didn't even want to be there when my family put her to sleep. I don't know. No offense to Jessica, but I just didn't think I'd be able to see my mother go through that and watch her die. But there I was, carrying my super old collie into the vet, tears rolling down my face, because I knew that was it. When he looked her over, he confirmed that there was nothing more to do. She was dehydrated and in pain and this was the point in her life he'd recommend putting her to sleep. So he talked to my mom in Germany to make sure and I called Hennessey. She knew Jessica for almost her entire life and wanted to be there for me.

Before it happened, I sat and hugged our puppy, put my head in her fur, and took a deep breath. I hugged my dog that was so comforting and felt like home. I got panicky knowing that I'd never see her again. In just minutes I'd never be able to look at her face that contained so much love and hope. I told her over and over again how we couldn't have asked for anything more and how much we were going to miss her and love her.

Around December, my mom had some friends over for reiki practice (side note, my mom does a lot of energy work, which includes reiki. It's a Japanese form of healing). Anyway, she had people over and they concluded with a healing circle. Little Jessica, as weak as can be, somehow dragged herself over and sat in the middle. My mom's friend the psychic, who knew nothing of Jessica's condition or the fact that my family was debating when the right time to let her go, said, "Jessie isn't feeling very well right now, but she wants to stick around to the spring. It is her favorite season".

It was amazing that the day Jessica chose to move on was by far the first really beautiful spring day.

Bathroom Horrors (cont'd)

2008-04-14T19:13:00.001-07:00

In one ofthe previous blogs, I talked about the disgusting bathroom habits of the women that used to work on the same floor as I did. This was a side-note-email to E after yet another miserable trip to the bathroom:

"Even worse than a loud gross lady breathing heavy in the bathroom is one who makes not ONE peep, but you know they're in there doing something. You realize you obviously interupted...something...and they just sit there, frantically, but quietly willing in their minds, for you to leave, so they can continue. That makes you the one making noises (flushing, pulling toilet paper etc.) and all the while feeling rushed becuase you KNOW someones there and they want u out.

Yup. I hate it Hence yet another reason why I prefer single stall bathrooms."

Coming Of Age Anthem

2008-03-25T22:23:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, I get overwhelmed with the sadness of not being in college and having the luxury of no real responsibilities. The times when I thought I had plenty of money, no bills, and had parents who paid for everything I basically needed.

But you know what? I LOVE love the age I'm at right now and being part of the pathetic too-poor to eat-young professionals, who would rather eat a piece of bread and ramen for each meal to save money for cocktails, dinners out, and shopping. Life is just so new and crazy. I look at some of my friends , who make 60k+ a year, getting married and own dogs. It sounds all good, I guess if that's where you want to be. But if that was me, I'd feel ripped off that I didn't get to live that "Oh god I hope I have money for drinks later, I'm only drinking if others are buying" lifestyle.

It would really be so sadly pathetic it was just me or just only you, but it's a whole population of us. I used to live for the mornings that E, Greg (one of our other co-workers) and I would come into work and show off our more pathetic lunch to the next.

The lineup:
E: One piece of bread, slightly molded, with a scrap of cheese, melted
Greg: Mystery rice, topped with cut up hamburger
Kristine: half a bag of lettuce, slightly browning.

Someday when I'm old & gray, I will look back at my young self that:

Had a week that I ate ramen EVERY SINGLE DAY
I stole splenda daily because a box cost out of my budget
That a $25 shirt from H & M is OUT of my price range
That it was a huge debacle when the coffee place across the street raised their price about 10 cents.
E&I walked by a special k bar free give away on the street twice because free is the best. But, didn't ration them, favoring to feast as soon as we got back to the office.

Being poor alone is depressing, but being poor with everyone around you is HILARIOUS

The Horror of the 14th Floor

2008-02-25T08:03:00.000-08:00

At the moment, I work in an office on the corner of 41st and Lexington. Looking at it, you would think it's your typical office. It is average in size, with a modest 20-something floors and really, you would never notice it unless you had a reason to go there.

Then you begin to work there and the vision of the establishment changes. How do I begin to paint the picture of this building ?

Maybe we'll begin in July 2007. This job was the first that I have ever had in an office. Back in college, the main reason I never got an internship was because I couldn't bare the thought of working indoors all summer when I should be basking in the sun. By the time July rolled around, I started to get the "I am cooped up indoors-no beach days" blues. Then a steam pipe exploded right in front of my building, blasting asbestos into the office and blew out most of the windows facing Lexington. Is it wrong that I felt personally blessed for the explosion? Thanks to a slow moving Environmental Department, I got a beautiful month and a half of summer time.

Lets move forward to about a month or two ago. One morning while trekking up to work, the elevator trapped myself, a co-worker, and a delivery guy in for almost an hour. That was fun. Ooo even the fire department came. Whats more exciting than being stuck in an elevator? That would be being stuck hungover when all you want is water and coffee. My co-worker was in there and had a huge bottle of water. I had to hold myself back from not robbing her of her water and muffin.

Our office is conveniently located on the 14th floor, which holds mismatched offices filled with some of the weirdest people I have ever encountered. We must be the cheap floor because all 9 or 10 suites share one bathroom, and to my knowledge none of us have kitchens. This means there is always somebody in the bathroom rinsing out a cup, Tupperware container, or filling up a pot to make coffee.

What I find odd, well one of many things, is that the office down the hall has a door bell. Why does an office need a doorbell? Do you think someone maybe lives there? Maybe they have so many Jehovah witnesses and guests stopping by that they need it? Or perhaps the boss hates HATES the sound of a knock on the door and there are doorbells installed outside all off the doors in the office. I thought maybe it was just something left over from long ago, but this office in particular got the most damage by the explosion and had to get stripped. This means that the door bell was actually thought through and intentionally put there. Hm... who could I call to question?

Ok. The bathroom situation on our floor is mortifying. It's as if they gathered every women who has no shame to share a bathroom together. These women. Ugh, just gassy-heavy breathing bathroom users, almost to the point of me wanting to throw up. Just last week, I rolled in to wash out my coffee pot and there is this lady whom E & I often get caught in random conversation with finishing up.

Anyway, I walk into her sighing and spraying air-freshener into a stall. She turned to me and said "I am SO happy it's Friday. Better I go now instead of having an accident on the way home."
Me: Oh (haha, forced laugh) how do you get home...?

Her: I got a nice looong train ride back to (insert her home here...I don't remember) better safe than sorry.

As she was about to leave, turned and went back into the stall exclaiming, "Oh, just alittle bit more".

REALLY?

And then of course there was the time that someone threw up in between the door of the bathroom and the hallway and the best was when I was convinced someone was doing drugs in the stall next to me.

Anyway...

I don't want you to think I am completely hating on the building because there are some great things about it.

a) our mailman, ups guy, and dhl guy are all great. Seriously, I love them all. Always a friendly hello and nice chit chat.

b) We have a Cafe Metro inside of our building (they have the best food EVER), Dunkin Donuts next door, and a place across the street that you can get literally anything you imagine. Amazing breakfast sandwich? Check. Mmmm tasty low-fat chicken salad wrap? Check. Salad bar? Yes. Pizza? Yes. And so on.

c) From all these places we steal heavy amounts of plastic utensils, straws, and splenda, so thank you.

d) Anything else? Well....ok. I got one more. Next to the elevators there are these amazing mirrors with wonderful lighting that make you look glowing and slim. I swear. If your ever in the area, try to run past the door man and admire yourself. Seriously. It's wonderful.

So there you have it Ladies and Gentlemen. I would like to say I'm surprised that I work in this circus, but come on, whats the fun in normal?

Ode To My Valentine :)

2008-02-12T18:03:00.000-08:00

How lovely to walk into the office today and find this guy sitting on my desk waiting for me. Turns out it was from my Valentine Marty, wanting to surprise me a few days early, so thought it would be a nice idea to send me a little treat. And yes, this turned into being my lunch because I forgot mine and didn't feel like going out.

So thanks to you Marty!

Ok. Fine. Marty is actually the Office Manager in my magazine's New Jersey office. He's around 75 years old and I've never met him before. On the occasions that we do speak, it usually has something to do with me DHLing too many packages or all the ink my printer goes through. I would say it was an act of love, but ohh well, who am I kiddng? He sent it to every lady in the office. But whatever. Who doesn't love chocolate on Valentines day?

"KRISTINE! ENOUGH"

2008-02-08T10:29:00.000-08:00

So it appears this morning in my lunatic state of mind, I have decided to be super chatty and harrass my friends who sit in offices in front of the computer all day.

Apparently, unlike me, they all aspire to get things accomplished, so it leads me to be super annoying.

Example 1: Nina

Nina is usually on gchat at some point of the day, so she is always up for a re-cap chat about the night earlier. Um. I sign on. No Nina. I wait and wait and then when i couldn't take it anymore, I sent her a desperate text:
Where are you!!
She rolled in around 2:30. Thank god. I actually forgot about the text until:

Nina: ha u didn't included ur text to
me in it
me: oh god i didn't i'll change that right now

And this has nothing to do with anything, but it was funny:

Nina: so totally going to die from lack of sleep and hangover
so in love with brit
i am a lesbian
me: oh god, look at u, going to strip clubs and falling for the ladies,
u really are.

Example 2: Chiarina

surfergrll423 (1:08:40 PM): HEY where ru!
surfergrll423 (1:08:44 PM): please entertain me
surfergrll423 (1:08:45 PM): wah

Example 3:Geraldine

surfergrll423 (1:07:08 PM): wheres the baby
cowbeania (1:26:40 PM): i'm SO tired
surfergrll423 (1:26:48 PM): oh thank god ur back

And now the worst. E. I probably harrass her more than anyone in the world during the day. I'll just give some of the day's highlights

me: hello bleakness my old friend
me: my brain feels like its marinating in vodka
ah my useless brain served in a vodka sauce, topped with an apple demi-glaze mmmm with a side of garlic whipped potatoes tasty tasty
E: HAHAHAHA YOU ARE SUCH A FREAK i love it

me: oh man DAMNITand ur not talking to me what more important than me?
oh fine i guess ur job
do u want me to come over there and hit u
i will. no problem
i'll throw my santan mug at u
no i meant santa
o no maybe i did mean santan
E: you have a satan mug??i didn't know duane reade sold those

me: i'm writing a blog about how annoying I am
E: HAHAHAwell now, who wants to talk
E: hahah about how annoying you are please call it "KRISTINE! ENOUGH!"

Maybe I'm wrong here...

2008-02-04T11:10:00.000-08:00

I need other points of view. Am I in the wrong here? Do I have the right to be kinda annoyed and confused?

Back when I was 20-22, I dated this guy one and off again. We'll call him by the name of Random. Things ended really really wierdly, but whatever. We were young and to my knowledge, no permament damage was made on either one of us. Whenever I see him now things are cool and despite whatever happened, I really don't hold any grudges or animosity towards him. Case closed.

Literally, I probably haven't seen him in about a year, so a few weeks ago I ran into some of his friends and asked what Random's been up to and how he is.

I'm assuming Random's friends got back to him and told him I was asking about him because sure enough, a week later I got a phone call at 2am. I didn't have his phone numeber at the time and never answer the phone to numbers I don't know, so obviously I didn't pick it up. No message. Then, a second later, it rang again and he left a message saying hi and for me give him a call back that night or whenever.

So I assume the following.
-- it was 2am on a Saturday night. He was drunk and hoping to either hook up with me or hoping that I had something fun to do.
-- or he was just told I was asking about him and thought it was a good time to call me.

So a few nights later, I was curious and called him back. No answer.
Then last night, with the help of a bottle or two of wine (thanks you super bowl), I called again.
I wake up this morning to 4 MISSED calls. Thats right, 4 calls.
So I text him back saying, "hey sorry I missed your calls, I was sleeping by then, we should hangout sometime."

Are you ready for this. I am still amazed. This is what he sends me.

"I got back with my ex. I don' think its a good idea for us to hangout or talk. Sorry."

ARE YOU KIDDING ME. I don't want him. I wasn't trying to get a reunion special going. What the hell? When did I become the pathetic one in the situation. I didn't get in touch with him. I didn't call him 4 times, but all of a sudden he's letting me down gently. I am amazed..
So I rant to Geraldine a bit and decide not to say anything to him. But then 5 minutes later I couldn't take it anymore and sent this:

"Um. you got in touch with me. I was just calling you back to catch up and see how you been."

Seriously, like come on. Is that what guys think? Girls are crazy and can't just innocently enough want to see how someone is doing. Don't get me wrong, at the time, I was really into him. It's been just about 2 years ago, maybe even a little more. I'm over it. It's ok. I called because you called me and I am a super curious person by nature. It would have been nice to meet up and chat a bit, but apparently I am just a crazy savage girl and wouldn't be able to keep my hands to myself. Is that how all people see me? Oh dear.

I guess he wins at the end because who's the one blogging and get all agitated over something that really meant nothing?

ENOUGH

2008-01-28T09:39:00.000-08:00

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

2008-01-24T08:06:00.000-08:00

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

2008-01-18T08:03:00.000-08:00

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!

2008-01-17T11:45:00.000-08:00

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

2008-01-01T18:15:00.001-08:00

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.

Yes, ok, I KNOW Mom...

2007-12-26T19:08:00.000-08:00

After Christmas dinner, I spent more than enough time hanging out at my parent's house and ached for Hoboken. My mom suggested that I stay over the night because of that evening's traffic, but have you ever done the commute from Middletown to NYC in the morning? MISERABLE. Last time I sat in traffic for three hours and almost had a stroke. So I packed about 7 bags (seriously, I looked like I was homeless) and got out of there nice and early.

Apparently this was a typical idea because when I arrived at the train station, the majority of the people where about my age standing and waiting for the train with their dads. My dad left, I guess not occurring to him to keep me company, which was fine because I preferred to sit and people watch and listen til my train arrived anyway.

"I don't know about shit, but both places sound pretty miserable to me, " said a son to his Irish American father. They were talking about the son's friend overseas and he couldn't remember where his friend was - Afghanistan or Iraq - but knew he wasn't planning on going to either one.

(In an Irish accent), "Why don't you put your boots on, it's mighty cold out".

Son- Why should I? It's not bad out. That would entail me to have to take all my stuff out of my bag to find them.

Subject over. They start talking about something new.

Five minutes later, the dad mentions something AGAIN about the boots and the son still resisted. Then the son ran to the bathroom, asking his father to watch his things. While gone, dad took it upon himself to root through the bag and pull out the boots. When the son returned, he rolled his eyes at his dad, sighed, and put on the boots.

It must be difficult for parents when their children are in their mid-twenties, teetering the line of childhood and adulthood. We are capable to live on our own, work at real jobs, and support ourselves, but also continue to be spoiled by parents to a certain extent and often need advice on unknown dealings in the adult world. But what are the boundaries? How far can they push until we revert back to the sarcastic-teenager "Ok! Fine! I wish I never was born"- door slammers?

My parents, I'm sure like everyone else's, make me feel like an idiot half the time due to the questions and nagging I get. Some of the classics include, "Well Kristine, you can't burn the candle at both ends, you need to live within your means, you need to balance your check book, blah blah..."

My favorite dad question of the week was, (on Christmas day driving to the train station), "I presume you check the holiday time schedule. It is Christmas and I'm sure they are different".
Me, without thinking, say in a 14 year old voice, "Um. I know. I'm not retarded. Obviously."

When do we become adults in their eyes? Do we ever? Hm. I don't think so. To this day, My 87 year old grandma nags and dumb question my 59 yr old father and right away my dad answers in that familiar "I KNOW MOM" tone. Just shows you that no matter how old you may be, to your parents you timelessly remain their sweet little 8 year old who know nothing about nothing.

Ugg Love

2007-12-13T17:53:00.000-08:00

About 5 years ago the U.S. was hit by the ugg epidemic. No matter where I was or what time of year it may have been, they were EVERYWHERE. This trend got to the point that even if I secretly wished I owned a pair, knew it was the time to take a stand and not conform. I was not a catholic school teenager or Australian, where I was guessing they were the norm. So I sat around and silently hated on everyone who wore them and that was that. Enjoy your trend. Take care.

Fast forward to the weekend after Thanksgiving. This was the first winter for me working in the city and I am constantly looking for ways to be cozy and warm. Seriously, my work wardrobe consists of thousands of comfy turtlenecks and warm warm sweaters (which is funny because it is the exact apposite of my night wear, where I choose fashion over warmth). I'm guessing it is not "work appropriate" to wear slippers and fleece sweat suits every day, so I attempt to replicate that in other ways.

I started out in the fall with moccasins, who were neither attractive or cold weather friendly, but they suited me well until it got to the end of November.

It was a hazy dream. I remember sitting in my dad's car, talking to Geraldine on the phone and somewhere from deep within I said, "I'm going to go into "If the Shoe fits (in Redbank) to try on uggs."

Was that really me? What? I was just going to Zebu for coffee and to read the newspaper.

From there, I floated in and tried them on. And ok. I see why all these people wear them.
AMAZING. So warm. So soft. it was like wearing outdoor slippers.

I took a victory lap around the store in my ugg-to-bes and paid immediately, so tempted to wear them out.

I went into Zebu with a huge smile, got my coffee, and raced to the car to change my shoes.
And now I want more. I see girls with ugg boots and what was once ,"I HATE THOSE", has turned into "Lucky...ooo I want. gimme gimme".

Happy Hour At Port Authority

2007-12-06T09:52:00.000-08:00

It's easy to let yourself get stuck into a daze when you're on a set schedule. Sometimes my days will blend together and it is often hard to keep track of whether something happened two hours earlier or three days before. That being said, you have to appreciate the little quirky things in life that spice up the day and keep you in touch with this crazy calamity of a world.

Last Monday was just like any other. I woke up, took a shower, yadda yadda, walked to work, settled into my desk, got some coffee, blah blah blah, did some busy work, left work, took the walk to Port Authority, and waited on line to buy a week's worth of bus tickets.

How does one describe Port Authority? It's not nearly as fast paced and crazy like Penn Station. I would say it is either commuters who frantically try to make it home early, leisurely day trippers who walk slowly because they don't know where they are going or where their Broadway show is, or super tourists who desperately freak out trying to find Times Square.

Me. I'm a commuter. But I don't live far away or ever have any crazy reasons to be home as quickly as possible, so while I walk briskly, rarely will you see the panic of "I NEED TO GET HOME NOW" in my eyes.

If you plan on taking the bus to Hoboken, try to get there as early as possible. Arriving there anytime past 5:30, be prepared on waiting on the longest line EVER. You can usually predict how long the wait will by where you are positioned on the line. Once looped around the corner by the men's bathroom, you know might as well get comfortable.

Anyway, I was waiting on the ticket line, bopping along to my ipod, when all of a sudden, I see this weird old hairy, possible homeless man heckling the people in front of the line. I immediately lowered my ipod and saw this drunk old crazy man gibbering about how slow everyone was taking buying tickets and how he should be allowed to sneak in front because he would take, while motioning his hand around and around, "ah-one, ah-two, ah-three".

A note about the commuters. Yes they are in suits. And yes, they may be courteous and outbursts are typically not within their character. But. They DO not allow cutters when they have been waiting online for 20 minutes. This nice probably accountant Asian man said, "Well sorry sir, but the line is back there". The faux-hobo replied with, "But uhh donnta wanna waita all the wayyhhh on that there line. ceemmone. Let me slip on in".

At this point the Asian accountant said , "come on man. we are all waiting here. you just can't come in here and get to the front". While he was saying this, the faux-hobo was pushing buttons for his ticket and trying to put his crumbled dollars into the machine.

The Asian accountant was not having this, so he pushed the faux-hobo gently out of the way, and faux-hobo freaked out screaming, "What man! What. don't you touch me! I'll kick yo ass! GO ahead! Touch me again".

Picture this scene. A nice little respectable well dressed Asian versus a weird old possible homeless man probably around 65-70. This is when I began to laugh.

Up until then, no one was doing anything on the line but look at each other and laugh. Another suit behind me walked up and was like, "aright buddy. it's time for you to leave this guy alone. Do you want us to call the cops?"

Faux-hobo replied with a gibber-gabber -drunky "what bitch! you want some of this too! I'll take both of you. Well FUCK YOU. I'm goiiing leave", all the while shaking his finger and walking like he's was this big tough guy, instead of a grandpa.

As he swayed away, the suit behind me yelled, "That's right bitch! Keep on walking".

The end.

Ha. No. Oh there's more.

So I bought my tickets and race to the Hoboken line, which because I had the weirdo homeless man fight, had to go alllll the way to the back, wayyyy past the men's bathroom.

While waiting, I continued to bop along, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw a little man (not like a midget. I mean like a very short man, about 5'1 or so) in a puff jacket leaning back and forth, obviously drunk, arguing with this older man who I guess worked at the Port Authority, mopping in front of the bathroom.

Are you kidding? Another fight? Again, I turned down my ipod and went in for a listen.

Little Puff: Come on man! Let me use the bathroom! Come on!
Mop Man: Charlie, I told you last time, you can't go in there when your drunk! What? You want me to call the cops again on you! Go downstairs or find somewhere else to pee.
Little Puff: But..but....

So Little Puff did a little lap and then tried to sneak in behind a much taller gentleman. Again, Mop Man saw him and said, "Charlie. WHAT DID I TELL YOU. Your drunk. You can't pee here. That's it. I'm calling security. I've had enough of you!"

Just like that, my day was amazingly re-invented. So sure, they can freak us out and make us feel uncomfortable, but come on! I seriously live for this stuff. What else would my day consist of? Ho hum. I ran out of ink today. No thanks. I prefer the crazy inappropriate drunks and tough grandpas.

Just Your Typical Tuesday

2007-12-05T10:48:00.000-08:00

Without fail, Tuesday nights in Hoboken seem to turn into a ridiculous time, with even more ridiculous characters. And yes, last night was no exception

I started off with dinner and drinks at this awesome tapas place in my neighborhood. Since going to the tapas place Savannah, or the artist formally known as The House of Coffee, I have been skeptical of this whole tapas thing. Savannahs was poorly priced and insanely meager. But the place in Hoboken is mm. mm mm mm.

Anyway, after dinner, I met up with my friend E and we decided to go out and about for cocktails. For the past month or so, we have gone to the same place (The Goldhawk) for open mike night, so figured it was time to mix it up. Where did we go you ask? The Greenrock. The Greenrock is the type of place you have to love because it has dollar drafts and...well... ok, fine that's it. It is always super packed, the music it way too loud, and the people who go there are generally a sideshow. The girls were dressed up in their finest clubbin' clothes and dancing with eachother sexually, in hopes of getting the attention of the late 20's finance men that were surrounding them, discussing who was taking whom home.

And then there was me and E, who were dressed like elementary school teachers compared to these chicks, and kind of standing to the side.

Within minutes, a dude in a blue collared shirt, whom I probably would have found attractive if he wasn't so wasted, staggered over to me, kind of tap/pointed on my arm and said, "Hey. I'm John. I work in finance and make six figures. Whah do you do? Isn't it great that even though I'm so young, I make so much money!"

The conversation continued with me asking if he liked him job, which he said no, to then why did he do it then, with a reply of, well because he made so much money, from which I replied with, I'd rather do something I loved and enjoyed and make less money than waking up and hating life everyday.

He made a fist with his hand and went into a dramatic monologue about how there was SO much more to him and MORE that he needed to give, blah blah blah. What he was doing now was to prepare for his future. He didn't know what he was going to do, BUT SOMEDAY he will make an IMPACT. Then, he looked at me with bewilderment, probably becuase he wouldn't usually show strangers this side of him, and rushed off to the bar for another drink.
pff. So there.

Meanwhile, E was talking to one of wierd blue shirt finance's friends, who was cute, oh so tall, and seemed normal. I moved over closer to them to get out of the middle of the room and happily people watched for a few minutes. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw wierd blue shirt whispering something to his friend, motioniong for him to talk to me. Obviously, they either wanted to keep me entertained so his friend could continue talking with Emily or that I was the "weird - bad conversation - pathetic - left over friend" that could easily be taken home by just about anyone.

yay.

SO up comes this guy who looked sticky and smelled like a dirty grandparent basement. From here, without a scrap of eye contact, proceeded to give me one of the worst and stale conversations I have had in a long time.

So where do you live? Where are you from? Have you lived anywhere else in NJ?
10th and Willow Middletown Yeah, New Brunswick

Why? Where do you work? Where did you go to college?
I went to Rutgers A magazine I just told you. Rutgers

At this point, I leaned over and said, "Hey E. Lets finish these drinks and go?"
I went to the bar to close out while she said her goodbyes with nice friend, and moved on to the Shannon.

Usually, the Shannon is great. But I guess on Tuesdays it consists of old men playing darts. Whatever. We could actually sit at the bar without someone yelling in our ear or trying to push us out of our seats.

At this point, we figured it was late and should go over to the Gold hawk (surprise surprise) for last call.

Walking up, it looked insanely dead, so I said to E, "dude, what time is it? I wonder if is too late to get a drink..."
umm its 11:30.

So we walked in and sat down at the empty bar, ordered beers and lemon drops, and bullshitted a bit. And yes, apparently I was drinking beer last night (?).

Within two minutes, one of the locals spots us and talked with us the rest of the night. I think about his music, movies we love and hate, and so on. hm.

Last night must have just been one of those nights that I wasn't on or something, because next thing I knew, E & local were in deep conversation (ha, which today she has absolutely no idea what it could have been about), while I drunk texted a guy I used to date.

Awesome. So then a random ukelalie and mandolin player in a snow flake sweater appeared out of nowhere, talked to him for a few and went home.

Time for Bed. End of Tuesday.

The Aftermath.

7:00 Alarm goes off. Um. no. how about you re-set til 8:25.

8:30 began the scrammble of showering, breakfast and lunch planning, getting dressed and so on. Makeup free and badly work dressed, I rolled in around 9:30. Not bad.

Gotta love Hoboken :)