Down the Hatch: A Dose of Molten Lead and Surprising Chivalry
So yesterday we had an off-site work meeting which I planned and which was quite successful, I'm pleased to report. At the end, we were charting events for the year, and my boss looked at the group calendar, which did not have my name on it in very many places (because my job is not very event-oriented at this stage, thank God). "Dori," she said. "We must change this. You need more deliverables. I want you to have molten lead in your belly at all times."
That was horrid, but afterwards I went to my writing group and one of the zanier guys acted wildly inappropriate. In the elevator after class, this other guy told me that he'd emailed the instructor about the zany guy, and asked her to redress the gender weirdness, because Zany Guy and another even weirder guy have been dominating the discussion despite the fact that the male/female ration is 1/4. Normal Feminist Guy was the only one who anonymously raised the issue and thus he gets major points in my book.
Posted by Dori at 4:35 PM
Marginally Better Than No Post at All
So for the last several days I've been perseverating (how I love that word) over the topic of this post, or, more specifically, about what the topic of this post should be.
There is little to report other than these delightful gems:
- I've become addicted to the lemon scones sold at a coffee shop near my house.
- I lost the tiny cable that connects my digital camera to my computer and thus cannot upload any photos of my newly beautiful living room; similarly, I can't upload a photo of the couch I'd like to sell on craigslist. Said cable retails for $21-$34 and I refuse to shell out that kind of cash for a 6" cable.
- I have somehow lost interest in/energy for cooking and have been subsisting on granola bars and peaches (and the aforementioned lemon scones) for most of the summer. Recently I've introduced organic applesauce and Life cereal into the mix. My fridge is full of gross old things.
- I have been sleeping an alarming amount. Alarming. Like, hours and hours at a stretch. I am not sure if this is a sedating effect of the Not Too Effective Cocktail of Anti-Migraine Drugs or the cocktail of emotional malaise (comprised of the Truly Horrid Dearth of Romantic Prospects, the Drama at Work, The Fact that Everyone Else is Married/In Love, and the Existence of Various Other Triggers of Self-Pity).
Right now I'm focusing on a flickering light in this cloud of darkness and ennui: my brother's DVR and a major dose of rhythmic gymnastics.
Posted by Dori at 5:55 PM
How's Never? Is Never Good for You?
So I get my hair cut at this great salon in this great neighborhood with a great bookstore. Every six weeks, I trek out there and begin with some high-quality browsing, followed by a slice of delicious pizza at the adjacent hole-in-the-wall, and then Nikki works her salon magic, and then, after I look all chic and cute, I head to Trader Joe's to stock up on fruit bars, canned lychees, and frozen treats.
HOWEVER, I am concerned that this routine will now be ruined by "Stacey," this chick with whom I went to college. Stacey was very close with this Alpha Girl we both knew, and we all found ourselves in Boston after graduation and started hanging out. Eventually Stacey moved away for grad school, I drifted apart from the Alpha Girl, and we all lost touch until last week, when I was in my pre-haircut groove, chilling among the half-priced paperbacks.
Stacey popped up from behind the check-out counter and acted all thrilled. She told me that she finished grad school and moved back here two years ago and, she hastened to add, she is now a
buyer for this bookstore. We exchanged some more pleasantries and then I was totally ready to smile and sincerely say, "It's been great seeing you! Glad things are going so well!" and then bid her goodbye.
But before I could leave, she insisted that we should get together and catch up, and wanted to exchange contact info, even though my phone number and email haven't changed since 2001, when she last had them, and even though neither of us has attempted to contact the other in -- what --
seven years? I have absolutely nothing against Stacey, but I am confident that if we were meant to be friends, we would have made a connection that would outlast Alpha Girl.
Now I fear the bookstore. I know if I see Stacey I could dive behind a bookshelf, or if I actually bumped into her, I could refer obliquely to our encounter and say something about how it's great to see her because "I've been meaning to call."But I'd so much rather not have to think about this nonsense at all.
Posted by Dori at 8:34 PM
My First Major Furniture Purchase
So a few weeks ago I went to Staples to buy some file folders, and passed
Circle Furniture, the store from which I will buy all the furnishings for the home I will inhabit when I a) marry well b) become a dean of a leading university or c) win the lottery.
A sign indicated that a floor model sale was in progress. Knowing that even the floor models would be way above my price range, I decided to play masochist and check out the goods anyway. I have been unsuccessfully searching for a coffee table and a comfortably sized living room couch for some time now, but have been unsuccessful on craigslist and other channels.
Lo and behold, I found a gorgeous coffee table that was reasonably priced. Behind it was an equally gorgeous floor model sofa that was extremely discounted, though less reasonably priced. By the end of the afternoon I'd purchased a box of file folders for $6.95, and over $1,200 worth of high-end furniture, which was delivered yesterday. I can't find a photo of the coffee table that started it all, and my digital camera is at work, but this gives you an inkling of the glory of the couch (mine is upholstered in a much lighter color). It is a big-assed, solid piece of furniture, the kind a grown-up woman with a real job would own. Suddenly, that's me.
Posted by Dori at 6:33 PM
Shirt Back On, Beads Off
I'm back from New Orleans and I want you to know that while I was extremely ecstatic to see my three far-flung BFFs for a 3-night sleepover, I was prepared to hate the city. I expected to hate it namely because my beloved friend K. lives there and not here with me. (On those grounds I also hate L.A., Sacramento, San Diego, and Ft. Lauderdale, as well as a certain small Midwestern college town.)
But beyond the baseline bitterness, I expected that New Orleans would be cute and quaint in the French Quarter and touristy areas, but then resemble Atlanta and Florida everywhere else, with strip malls and soul-less subdivisions. In fact, New Orleans' charming architecture, gorgeous "shot-gun" homes (see example below, courtesy
of google images), beautiful landscaping, shops both chi-chi and accessible, amazing food (for a run-down, check out
Melinda's culinary account of the weekend) are
everywhere. It is really a city of neighborhoods, and there is tons to do and see and the cost of living is reasonable. One can acquire a beer for $1.50 and iced tea for $1.00.
We spent the weekend bonding and eating. I wanted to take a
3-hr tour of Katrina-ravaged Ninth Ward, but the great thing about hanging out with BFFs is that they can categorically nix such a notion, without worry of hurting your feelings, and propose instead a brief, unofficial self-guided tour of the wreckage, and followed by a Netflix viewing of Spike Lee's
When the Levees Broke.
Driving around the Ninth Ward was eerie and upsetting. For every six or seven completely devastated, abandoned homes, maybe one has been rebuilt. The neighborhood is still mostly empty, even after three years. Katrina is definitely still very present in the city - everywhere there are signs about renewal and revitalization and references to the disaster.
K.'s New Orleans pad is awesome: charming and historic on the outside, cool and sleek and hotel-like on the inside. She has stainless steel appliances and a bathroom large enough for ballroom dancing. We lounged around on aerobeds, talked, talked, talked, and checked out the Sunday papers and some Olympic footage. At one point, being BFFs on vacay, we discussed the merits, costs, and prevalence of waxing. Apparently there are a lot of Brazilian bikini waxes out there (R.'s been told that at her salon, about half of all waxing jobs are Brazilian), and this horrifies me. I cultivate shiny hair, smooth skin, groomed feet, pert boobs, flat abs, a fresh smell, white teeth; I spend substantial amounts of hard-earned cash on hair cuts, cute shoes, flattering clothing, and gym membership; thus, I refuse to pay someone $50 a month to yank out whatever hair exists in places I cannot see (ahem, places
behind) and don't expect anyone else to see. To that, I say:
Stop the Insanity! I truly hope that X-treme waxing hasn't become the expectation, and that guys haven't adopted a universal
hairless fetish.But I digress. My friends are so awesome I could barely stand it. It was so hard to leave, to head off, one by one, and scatter back out into our assorted corners of the country. I looked forward to this trip for ages. It exceeded expectations. And now it's over. And I miss everyone already.
Posted by Dori at 9:28 PM
Get Out Your Beads, and UpDATE 1.867 Billion
... so date #2 with the Russian was meh, as predicted. We had very delicious Thai food. I heard about his upcoming camping trip in great detail. He and the boys "eat like kings [by which he meant steak tips] and drink a lot." They catch fish and throw them back and stay cool via "lots of Vitamin A." (It took me a minute to realize he meant A for Alcohol.) The Russian is a Republican. He thinks government is cumbersome and is not a fan of social programs. When I pointed out that his grandmother lives in a government-subsidized apartment, he just shrugged. We actually did briefly discuss the issue of his gas-guzzler, and he responded that "there are more important things than oil," namely the diminishing water table. The kicker was when he asked me how my week was and I sighed and started to talk about its suckiness, he agreed and then cut me off by launching into a diatribe about wretchedness at his own workplace. I sound like a huge bitch. He is actually a really nice guy, very kind, very sweet. Just not for me.
Tomorrow very early I leave for a long weekend in New Orleans. I meeting the three other members of my posse,
R.,
Melinda, and K. I expect that it shall be pretty damn awesome. I may feel compelled to whip off my shirt and don some beads.
Check ya later.
Posted by Dori at 10:24 PM
UpDATE #Something or Other
So my mom's friend's daughter set me up with her friend, who she described as really nice, Jewish, bald, computer-ish, and Russian. I was happy to check the guy out, am happy these days to check anyone out, because all I get via Match are these exceptionally inappropriate messages, one of which included a phone number, a plea to call, and the assurance that "you'll either love me or hate me." Another guy wrote simply: "pretty." I have not logged in for a while, and am thus very happy to meet a guy via semi-natural causes, like a set-up.
So I meet the guy at a bar, and he looks like Mr. Clean: shining bald pate, a space between his sparkling front teeth, buff muscles, and an upbeat demeanor. He was very nice and funny, but asked me nothing about myself, and it became clear in the course of the conversation that we're just completely different people. It was fun talking to him, but I just can't see us really meshing. I was happy to agree to a second date, though, because one never knows what could develop. He drove me to the subway and told me offhandedly that he'd just gotten his jeep. "It's not the most fuel-efficient," he said, "but whatever." And I was just stymied. How could someone living in
this world in 2008 - a world in which the oil crisis is a cause of fucking
war - and in which polar bears are clinging to their ever shrinking islands of melting ice - and in which gas is driving up the cost of everything - peruse the lot of a car dealership and just think to himself, in a cavalier way, "all this doesn't apply to me?"
How can someone think, "I can choose to ignore the polar bears and the war and the poverty-stricken people who are having trouble getting to work these days"?
I'm still going out with him again. If we had a ton in common and had an intellectual and physical connection, maybe I'd still fall in love with him, but agenda item #1 would be to get rid of that embarrassing car. It's interesting to reflect on the whole affair because honestly, I'd have an easier time accepting someone's radically different political views. I'm fine with people expressing different perspectives, even if I don't agree with them - I can find legitimacy almost anywhere. But blatant disregard for the planet and for the lives of servicemen and women, and low-income people? The attitude that one is somehow
exempt from the responsibility to ameliorate environmental and political problems that are so indisputable? That, I have a BIG problem with.
Interestingly, Mr. Clean is very outdoorsy and date #2 is a walk around a local pond. We shall see what else emerges.
Posted by Dori at 6:16 PM
Yo Yo Yo
I'm back. And I'm in that mode where you haven't talked to a friend in a long time, and the longer you go without talking, the more there is to say, and the harder it is to call because really, where will you begin? I know it hasn't been that long. But still.
The main reason for my hiatus was my foray into the world of Topamax, which is used for migraines and seizures, and sometimes called Dope-amax, because it makes you so tired and stupid that you can't concentrate on your work because a) you're fantasizing about sleeping and wondering whether the space under the desk will be conducive to a nap, and b) your brain is incapable of functioning properly. I was so tired for about three weeks that I slept for twelve hours at a stretch and couldn't sustain the effort of blow drying my hair, much less blogging or exercising or socializing. As of last week, I am feeling more like myself. We'll see how it goes.
The other reason for my hiatus had to do with some general angst about the future of this blog, and also the fact that I am taking this ass-kicking writing class that may be tapping out my writing abilities in the short-term. I am taking the opportunity to write about non-bloggy topics in the class (namely, my work and my family), and thus can't "double dip" and put my writing out here. I've learned so far that blogging has ruined me, writing-wise, and that while I used to churn out extended literary essays with lots of description and depth, I'm now hooked on the three-paragraph pith-fest format, and every idea that comes to mind seems like a blog post and not an essay worthy of a 30-minute workshopping session. But last week I came up with a cool piece about my job, and I did some very fine work this morning on another piece, so perhaps I am turning the corner in this regard also.
A much more monumental event actually did occur, which I am still wary of writing about because I am crazy, and paranoid that it will dissolve somehow. I've been officially instated as a full-time employee of the Very Prestigious School at which I have been working as a contractor for about a year now. There was some talk about the creation of a position for me, but such talk has been happening for months, and is, as you all know, cheap, whereas a full-time job with benefits is not cheap at all. Then, quite out of the blue, I got this colossal packet in the mail that said "Welcome to VPS." The packet had no start date on it, included no salary or job title, but it did invite me to a new employee orientation, and it did include so many goodies that they had to be separated by tabs. Seriously. The tabs are "Health and Well-being" (which includes many health insurance options, and also dental and vision care plan. The vision care actually covers eye care, contact lenses, and frames.); "Continuing Education", "Your Financial Future", "Your Family" (info about on-site daycare, the Center for Work and Family Balance, adoption benefits, and elder care.). Then there are some other random loveliness like the gym, the half-price subway pass plan, flexible spending account, and more.
As fantastic as all of this was, there was still no mention of title or salary, so I prepared to go to work and have a showdown with my boss. Three days went by and she didn't mention anything. I called HR three times to find out if the packet was an administrative mail merge error and if not, what is my salary, please? They insisted I was not in the system. On the fourth day my boss casually mentioned that the paperwork had gone through and my title is X and my salary is Y (at the top of the (admittedly not amazing but adequate) range! And that was that. They engraved my name on the door and everything. It was anticlimactic. I keep comparing it to people that live together before they get married. The day after the wedding, things are pretty much the same, except now they have a cuisinart and an ice cream maker. Same goes for me. The job is a version of the foster job. The office is pretty crazy. The people are cool. I have the delicious cornucopia of benefits, but at the end of the day it doesn't feel too different. And there is something a tiny bit disappointing about how it all played out in the end - not having "won" the job and been plucked out of a sea of candidates. Yes, I was chosen for the original temp job, and there was stiff competition for that, but the way it worked out wasn't as happily dramatic as I envisioned. But whatever. It's awesome. I just got my first paycheck (I get paid monthly!). I truly hope it will work out.
I think that's it for now, but I'll share additional news in small doses.
Posted by Dori at 5:15 PM
