11.28.2005
Break
My break consisted of doing jack shit. We didn't drag our big fake Christmas tree out of the attic, we didn't put on suits of armor and venture out to the malls, we didn't go to any high-school reunions. What we did was get an oil change, talk with a few friends, watch movies, and take naps. I haven't had a stretch of nothingness like that in a long time. It was uncharacteristic of us, kind of fun but also kind of lonely, and it was still over too quickly.

Thanksgiving itself was good: family, food and football. We saw my parents' Italy pictures before dinner. We discussed real estate and politics. The extended family came by for dessert, including my cousin and her 3-month-old baby. It was weird to have a new person in the family but also about time. We handed him around until he got cranky and passed out; then we all watched him snore in his little carrying thing while making phantom sucking motions with his mouth and crinkling the ears of his plush elephant.

This morning, back at work. A gray Monday. The weekend had a bittersweet ending. My college roommate called yesterday to tell me her brother had committed suicide over the weekend. I was happy to hear from her but crushed by the news. Today they will cremate him. Wednesday I will leave work early to attend his memorial. I hope you're at peace, Spanky. Watch over the ones who loved you.


11.21.2005
Something I'm glad I did but will probably never do again
...is go to New York and back in one day on a bus with a bunch of ninnies. My company sponsored a trip: $25 round trip, same price as the Fung Wah without the sketchiness. When my friend and I signed up we thought, "Why not? It'll be fun." When we were on the bus at 6:45 a.m. waiting to leave, we were more like, "What. The fuck. Did we do."

The whole way down we had these people behind us talking endlessly about cars: Corvettes, Mustangs, putting their midlife-crises in winter storage, blah blah blah. They had the same conversation three separate times and didn't even notice. Then there was a 9-year-old girl sitting in front of us, somebody's granddaughter, and we traumatized her by putting on Animal House. I forgot exactly how raunchy it was until they busted out the giant dildo.

We arrived in the city just before noon. My friend and I took off for the subway and went down to 23rd Street to the new Comfort Diner. The new one is pretty big and serves alcohol. We had brunch, yummy omelets and fruit. Then we walked down Broadway to Union Square, stopping in Fish's Eddy, passing the farmer's market, and purchasing a socially conscious T-shirt for her husband. We jumped on the subway to Prince Street, went to Pearl River Mart, then pushed our way down Canal Street to the train again. We were almost in no-man's land, that TriBeCa area where there are no subways, and I was starting to see signs for the West Side highway, but the 9 was there and we took it back up to 14th Street. We walked the long tunnel to the F train and went up to 34th Street to go to Macy's. Macy's was a zoo, a horrible, writhing ant farm of humanity, and we wanted to escape pretty much as soon as we got there. So we walked east on a side street until we saw a guy with a Starbucks cup. A few minutes later and we were inside and drinking yummy beverages at Madison and 36th. By then we were pretty tired and winding down, and the sun was setting, so we went up to 51st Street where we needed to be to meet the bus, walked around looking for someplace to grab dinner, and ended up at Primeburger, which is a random lunch counter with weird seats and lights that were retro in a never-been-updated way, not a kitschy-on-purpose way. We had a wisecracking Russian waiter who said "Okely-dokely" and was pleased when we knew he was imitating Flanders.

The drive home was insanely long. The ninnies were all comparing how little they paid for their Canal Street knockoffs: Rolexes sold out of briefcases, David Yurman bracelets, Tiffany rings, Coach and Louis Vuitton and Burberry and Gucci handbags. Knockoffs burn me. Thanks for funding terrorist and drug activity!

Anyway, we watched the Shawshank Redemption, which killed the first two hours nicely, but then I was trying to sleep and couldn't because then they put on the Last Samurai, which, if you haven't seen it, sounds like this: CANNON FIRE! GUNSHOTS! PEOPLE BEING STABBED WITH SWORDS! HORSES WHINNYING IN TERROR! LOUD, DRAMATIC MUSICAL SCORE!

We finally got home at 11:40. My contacts were dry and burning. It was freezing cold and I put the ass-warmers on high. I dropped my friend home, walked in at midnight to find Joe sleeping on the couch, and was in bed by 12:05. So, I had fun, but from now on I'd rather stay overnight and take the train home.


11.16.2005
Crapnucopia
I went to Costco today with a friend who has a membership. It was probably my second visit ever to a wholesale club. I giggled down all the aisles because exaggeratedly large products are funny and absurd, like my beanbag pillow at home shaped like a yellow marshmallow Peep.

The principle of buying in bulk makes some sense, for some things, but it's still weird to see people with 24 rolls of paper towels, a 2-gallon jug of olive oil, 250 shrimp, 100 rolls of TP, and an enormous box of Honey Bunches of Oats all in one cart, towering over the purchaser. Is that why people need to buy McMansions, so they have a place to store all of their surplus paper products? As we walked around I thought, who would need that giant jar of mayonnaise unless they owned a sub shop or had 16 kids? But those people are out there, and Costco is their Mecca.

We got to witness an altercation at the checkout counter between an old man and the cashier. The man wanted to return a pair of gray sweatpants that couldn't have been any more than $9.99 in the first place. The cashier was like, "We've never carried those. I've been the manager of clothing for three years." The guy shot back, "Are you calling me a liar? I want to see the manager of the store!" Another employee escorted him away to avoid a scene, and the cashier yelled after him, "It was probably BJ's, you old jackass!"*

*Yeah, no. She didn't call him a jackass.


11.14.2005
The road many times taken
This weekend it was sunny and up in the 60s again. We raked leaves on Saturday, which was a much better experience than last year. Last year we had to do the whole thing ourselves and it was freezing and we did fifteen bags in one day. It started to pour and we had to abandon a pile next to the house, which we could never finish because then it snowed for four months straight. This year our neighbor got an early start so we only had to do about ten bags. It was done in an hour and a half.

Afterwards we showered, got comfy, and hosted Carly and Professor K for the evening. It was extra nice to see them because it felt like it had been ages and we had a million things to say. Carly and I did, anyway. We dominated the talk while the guys sat by and watched Rocky III and football, which neither seemed too perturbed about. We vowed to resume meeting at Starbucks during the week for post-work catchups. This is the time of year for it, after all. There's nothing like putting on a scarf and meeting up with someone over a gingerbread latte to make the coming winter a little bit okay.

Yesterday we spent the day at my grandparents' house. My parents are in Italy and nana called my sister and me on Saturday and invited us for dinner. We had a really nice time. Nana cooked a huge dinner--pasta, meatballs, chicken cutlets, eggplant parmesan, chocolate cream pie--and we stayed all day, talking and reminiscing and laughing about what dorks my sister and I were when we were kids. Nana and Grandpa were always our favorite grandparents and we had so many great holidays and visits with them that add up to wonderful memories: Easter egg hunts, Christmas Eve stocking hunts, the gum drawer, the Santa parade, the beach, the money machine in the cellar, sleepovers, the attic, my aunt's owl collection.

Yesterday I missed all of that and realized for the first time that once my grandparents are gone, there'll be no more of it. My children will only know of them through stories, which is the only way I know anything about my great-grandparents. So I realize how important it is to spend time with them and enjoy their company while they are still here. I saw how happy our visit made them yesterday and I plan to pop up to see them more often. I also would like to spend more time with my own parents, and my sister, who works crazy hours and lives just far enough away that we have to make elaborate plans when we want to hang out. I know she wants to move out next spring and I'm glad she's planning to stay in the area. It makes me really look forward to moving closer.


11.10.2005
We'll just be circling around for the next 590609604 minutes...
There was this stupid guy on my flight back from Dallas yesterday. In his thirties, with a serial-killer buzzcut, 80s light wash jeans, and a tucked-in long-sleeved jersey.

In the air he wandered up and down the aisle about 50 times, in his socks. Not to go to the lavatory, just to stretch out and get in people's way.

I was in the back of the plane next to the galley. On one of his passes, he stopped next to me in the aisle, reached into the galley, around a flight attendant, who looked up in surprise, and poured himself some orange juice.

She maintained her polite Texas stewardess smile, which clearly said, "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Befitting my exhausted New England business traveler scowl, I griped, "What does he think, this is a bed and breakfast?" She laughed a big Dallas clip-on earrings and Botox laugh.


11.01.2005
Hey, I'm crazy pickle-nose! I got a pickle for a nose! Now gimme some candy!

Last Halloween we had good candy and this kickass jack o' lantern. This year, not so much. There weren't any parties or haunted hayrides, it was on a Tuesday (the most non-day of the week), I went to the gym and picked up my dry cleaning (subsequently getting "Wake Me Up When September Ends" stuck in my head for the rest of the night) and didn't get home until 7:00, and I was anti-candy, so it kind of went over my head. I told Joe to buy a bag of candy he likes and then take the leftovers to work. He got Milky Ways and Rolos, which for me are in the "Eh" category. Believe me, I was tempted—O how the Reese's peanut butter cups, KitKats and fun size Snickers did taunt me in Stop&Shop and CVS, but I resisted.

We had just three groups of trick-or-treaters. I can't blame parents for taking their kids elsewhere; I wouldn't trick-or-treat in my neighborhood either. There's nothing wrong with it, but our house is on a dead-end street off a busy road, the busy road is mostly commercially zoned, and the river is behind it, which is fine during the day but very dark at night, a potential child predator petting zoo.

Maybe it's a blessing. As early as next year we could be living in suburbia, with half of Hershey's net holdings in a barrel in the foyer, bickering about who's going to get the door for the gajillionth time.


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