I think I may be getting my salaried position in January. I'm proving myself every day and had a really kick-ass pitch meeting this week. Not much else is happening but I'm pretty proud of my performance today.
ah this yuppie life.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Titties!
Today was the Susan G. Komen NYC Race for the Cure 5k - my first 5k ever I ran with josh, and after correcting for the 7 minute late start, we ran it in 33 minutes which I think is pretty good. The Amex team raised $53,000 but, alas, neither of us won any of the raffle prizes at the afterparty, a very corporate catered brunchy thing at lincoln center.
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
...is lame
here's what the title is about:
today, a seriously great Mexican singer/songwriter, Julieta Venegas, gave a concert at the Kennedy Center (for you non-DC'ers, the Kennedy Center is DC's premiere concert venue--it's where the National Symphony Orchestra and the National Opera 'live') for FREE. at 6pm. I really wanted to go, but the people I was planning to go with bailed on me last-minute. I will be the first to admit that I hate going to shows/movies/meals by myself, so I was super lame and didn't go.
...So i think i'm going to take a page out of Dean Edwards' book (as you all know by now, Dean is my go-to man in this DC life...him and his bed) and start writing on my pre-existing blog, La*Chelita, with upcoming events and junk. so not to clutter post-williamsburg with such things.
ok well i hope that some of you can join me at the next excellent dc event!
today, a seriously great Mexican singer/songwriter, Julieta Venegas, gave a concert at the Kennedy Center (for you non-DC'ers, the Kennedy Center is DC's premiere concert venue--it's where the National Symphony Orchestra and the National Opera 'live') for FREE. at 6pm. I really wanted to go, but the people I was planning to go with bailed on me last-minute. I will be the first to admit that I hate going to shows/movies/meals by myself, so I was super lame and didn't go.
...So i think i'm going to take a page out of Dean Edwards' book (as you all know by now, Dean is my go-to man in this DC life...him and his bed) and start writing on my pre-existing blog, La*Chelita, with upcoming events and junk. so not to clutter post-williamsburg with such things.
ok well i hope that some of you can join me at the next excellent dc event!
Monday, September 8, 2008
Today I fought the urge to kick a pigeon...
...and I probably love pigeons more than anyone I know. I count them among my style icons. And I really dislike animal cruelty. It was that kind of day.
I don't know what has happened to me but I can no longer get my rear in gear in any kind of quick pace in the morning, so for a 9:30 class (and an 8:40 trolley) I figured I should wake up at 7:15. That's just not my scene.
So as I am exiting my building today, some batshit insane-looking (and not in the fun way) oldish lady stops me and asks
"Were you using cable yesterday?"
I paused in such a way that I was quite sure she could visualize the ellipses going through my mind over my head like a cartoon idea lightbulb, until I released a low, guttural "uhhh" (Charlotte, you know the one) and said
"yeah, my cable worked yesterday, like RCN you mean?"
Homegirl went on to accuse me of blasting "some loud movie all day into the night" and reminded me how thin the walls and small the building are. Lady, I probably did not wake up until after noon, nor was I even in the apartment all day, and god knows the sounds from my wee little TV intended for a kitchen could not reach the opposite end of the building, let alone your apartment, if it tried with all its might. Nor did I hear "the loud machine noises next door" she also questioned me about. What the hell, don't stare me down as I exit my building, you culotte-wearing wackadoodle.
So, as the semester has started, the Route E NYU buses have gotten considerably more crowded, as I expected, but I don't think I expected herds of the undergrads to take a bus when, in reality, they have an approximately 10-block walk to class. GTFO my breathing space. For the few days I couldn't locate my ipod last week i wanted to punch a hole in the bus window (if I had managed to snag a seat) and dive into traffic. In a related story, I'm pretty sure I want to become one of those twats with giant puffy noise-canceling headphones.
I still haven't been to all my classes yet. My phenomenology course is mad theory-heavy and the books double as doorstops, but that's kindof what I need (sidenote: Dear W&M, offer more strictly theory courses, luv, Beaton). I seem to have to do a presentation or show-and-tell (dead serious) for all of my courses, so I'm scheduling myself into these according to what will keep me most sane within the syllabi. Also, there's this Blackboard Scare at NYU; it's really a lot like the Red Scare. The faculty and law school are apparently losing their shit about getting caught for copyright infringement, which is good for authors and publishers and all, but bad for killing trees, checking out reserves, and my wallet.
Also uggggh, no, I do not know why the new printer is not connected to all the computers at work, I am not a wizard, it is not my fault, do not shoot the messenger, she is not getting paid anymore, and will only be okay with this when I see my name on the front matter.
Surprise, there's like a dead zone in NYU's insurance. That was super fun to find out as the price of a prescription MORE THAN DOUBLED THIS AFTERNOON. Speaking of drug stores, my trusty old friends BenGay and Medical Tape are back in my life, as I seem to have recovered from last week's first ballet class by developing shin splints in the middle of the night or something. I am now taped up like a steroid-injected racehorse.
In happy news, the section of street adjacent to the fire hydrant in front of Team Face's apartment building has been filled in with fresh asphalt, which means perhaps the lovely puppy piss odor might linger a little less.
I also find slight comfort in the fact that I get to GTFO the city in the near future for Charlotte's birthday AND reveling in my four day weekends just after that by visiting my dear dear best friend Laura at MSU, who, by some aligned stars, has cranky days when I do too.
Excuse me while I read a shit ton, nurse some chocolate soy milk (I am a child), and unrealistically hope that Andy Murray beats Roger Federer. I will probably disappear really soon now that I have a routine.
Buddha, etc.
The one exciting thing happening in my life is that I've begun tutoring a Buddhist monk in ESL. His name is Sit-ka. He's thirty-two and a refugee from Burma. When I first found out I was going to be tutoring a Buddhist monk, I relished the opportunity to engage in some sort of cultural exchange and to show off my religious studies knowledge (was he in the Therevada, Mahayana, or Pure Land School etc?). However, I didn't stop to think about why I was teaching him, namely, that he doesn't know English. My hopes of talking with him about his Buddhism and his flight from his home country were squashed once I walked into the temple and realized this fact. Still, our first meeting went well, and while we couldn't relate to each other verbally, we were able to show kindness and our appreciation for one another. We were both nervous. I talked/hand-motioned to him about his tattoos and gathered that he had gotten them when he had entered the monastic order as a young boy. The meeting was only an introduction but I'm looking forward to our first session this week.
In other news, I kicked ass on the GREs. The thought of grad school in a year is the only thing getting me through living at my parent's house this year.
In fun news, I went to a wedding last weekend, got plastered, and danced the night away. We even got the DJ to play "Bizarre Love Triangle," clearing the dancefloor of the Jimmy Buffet fans who populated most of the wedding party. Also, I've discovered the Galaxy Diner's PBR deal in Carytown: $4.50 for a pitcher. That's pint night every night. Oh, that reminds me of what also happened this weekend. So I was with Brandon and Luke at Hooters (reserve your judgement) and we were waiting for a table. Just our luck, all the lights suddenly went out. The Hooters hostesses turned from flirts into bouncers, not letting anyone leave the restaurant until the power came back. They were especially cruel overlords. With no air circulation, the bar quickly became filled with smoke, causing many customers to complain that they could not leave and go outside. When one gentleman complained to the hostess, she feigned concern and reached for a menu, waving it in front of his face and replying, "Is that better?" We got the hell out of there since we hadn't even been seated yet. This provoked many behind us to yell louder at the hostesses. I can only hope that this turned into a ridiculous bar brawl with wings, cigarettes, and boobies flying everywhere. We left and went to Chili's. Instead of paying $4.50 a pitcher, I paid $4.50 for one pint. We discovered the Galaxy Diner the next night. Fuck Chili's.
In other news, I kicked ass on the GREs. The thought of grad school in a year is the only thing getting me through living at my parent's house this year.
In fun news, I went to a wedding last weekend, got plastered, and danced the night away. We even got the DJ to play "Bizarre Love Triangle," clearing the dancefloor of the Jimmy Buffet fans who populated most of the wedding party. Also, I've discovered the Galaxy Diner's PBR deal in Carytown: $4.50 for a pitcher. That's pint night every night. Oh, that reminds me of what also happened this weekend. So I was with Brandon and Luke at Hooters (reserve your judgement) and we were waiting for a table. Just our luck, all the lights suddenly went out. The Hooters hostesses turned from flirts into bouncers, not letting anyone leave the restaurant until the power came back. They were especially cruel overlords. With no air circulation, the bar quickly became filled with smoke, causing many customers to complain that they could not leave and go outside. When one gentleman complained to the hostess, she feigned concern and reached for a menu, waving it in front of his face and replying, "Is that better?" We got the hell out of there since we hadn't even been seated yet. This provoked many behind us to yell louder at the hostesses. I can only hope that this turned into a ridiculous bar brawl with wings, cigarettes, and boobies flying everywhere. We left and went to Chili's. Instead of paying $4.50 a pitcher, I paid $4.50 for one pint. We discovered the Galaxy Diner the next night. Fuck Chili's.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
dramz
Hey guys,
sorry i haven't written in a while. I am especially sorry because it's taken me over a week to muster up the energy to write about a very hilarious experience I recently had with one of my fellow p-w bloggers and recent birthday boy, Dean Edwards. Here goes, just cuz:
Last Friday, I met up with some fellow WM graduates for happy hour. I ventured out to the sticks of virginia (Courthouse, to be precise--DC living has sadly enhanced my inner geographical location snobbery), where they all live. Two of the ladies in my company are roommates of Dean's, so once we all got tipsy thanks to empty stomachs and $3 Amstel lights, we decided to continue the party. We ended up at Dean's house, reveling until the wee hours. Before I knew it, we were dancing to Springsteen in the living room. It was around this time that my inebriated self began to panic about having to sleep in a bed with some stranger (they have a pull-out couch in the living room, and i thought that i would be made to sleep there with the other person who was at the house who didn't live there, this guy named Tyler i think?) so i literally broke into Dean's bedroom, threw off my pants, climbed into his twin bed with him, and pass out. I woke up at 7am, terribly parched, so I get up and am shocked that I am not wearing pants or a bra. i put these items back on, chug some water, and return to dean's room to see him grudgingly making the aerobed for me (Thanks Dean!). We fell back asleep and woke a few hours later to some pleasant pillow talk. All in all, I'd like to thank Dean publically for having a sleepover with me, even if it was thrust upon him without consent.
In other news, work rules, I got my reader's badge for the Dumbarton research library this week, and got some sage advice from Dr J.P., one of my Pre-Columbian studies icons. Am literally drowning in books in papers in my boss's office; he keeps mailing me more and more material from his stops in Argentina and Chile. For you DC-ers, my museum is opening its newest show very soon, a survey of Fritz Scholder's work (contemporary art), it's going to be super so let me know if you'd like to go!
My house is coming apart at the seams. Part of my housemate's ceiling came off during the storm we had on Saturday, and we have illegal scaffolding set up in front of our house. An inspector from the DC government came by unannounced and called our living situation "slum living". It was kind of embarrassing. While we are taking legal action to assure that no one will ever again call us victims of a slum lord, we fear the clusterfuck that is the DC government/court system and its ability to actually prevent our hosue from falling apart. Wish me luck, I'm going to landlord and tenant court tomorrow.
that's life in a nutshell.
sorry i haven't written in a while. I am especially sorry because it's taken me over a week to muster up the energy to write about a very hilarious experience I recently had with one of my fellow p-w bloggers and recent birthday boy, Dean Edwards. Here goes, just cuz:
Last Friday, I met up with some fellow WM graduates for happy hour. I ventured out to the sticks of virginia (Courthouse, to be precise--DC living has sadly enhanced my inner geographical location snobbery), where they all live. Two of the ladies in my company are roommates of Dean's, so once we all got tipsy thanks to empty stomachs and $3 Amstel lights, we decided to continue the party. We ended up at Dean's house, reveling until the wee hours. Before I knew it, we were dancing to Springsteen in the living room. It was around this time that my inebriated self began to panic about having to sleep in a bed with some stranger (they have a pull-out couch in the living room, and i thought that i would be made to sleep there with the other person who was at the house who didn't live there, this guy named Tyler i think?) so i literally broke into Dean's bedroom, threw off my pants, climbed into his twin bed with him, and pass out. I woke up at 7am, terribly parched, so I get up and am shocked that I am not wearing pants or a bra. i put these items back on, chug some water, and return to dean's room to see him grudgingly making the aerobed for me (Thanks Dean!). We fell back asleep and woke a few hours later to some pleasant pillow talk. All in all, I'd like to thank Dean publically for having a sleepover with me, even if it was thrust upon him without consent.
In other news, work rules, I got my reader's badge for the Dumbarton research library this week, and got some sage advice from Dr J.P., one of my Pre-Columbian studies icons. Am literally drowning in books in papers in my boss's office; he keeps mailing me more and more material from his stops in Argentina and Chile. For you DC-ers, my museum is opening its newest show very soon, a survey of Fritz Scholder's work (contemporary art), it's going to be super so let me know if you'd like to go!
My house is coming apart at the seams. Part of my housemate's ceiling came off during the storm we had on Saturday, and we have illegal scaffolding set up in front of our house. An inspector from the DC government came by unannounced and called our living situation "slum living". It was kind of embarrassing. While we are taking legal action to assure that no one will ever again call us victims of a slum lord, we fear the clusterfuck that is the DC government/court system and its ability to actually prevent our hosue from falling apart. Wish me luck, I'm going to landlord and tenant court tomorrow.
that's life in a nutshell.
Friday, September 5, 2008
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