I sooooo did not need to know that...

One of my credit card limits has been bumped up another $200. Immediately my thoughts go to plane tickets for Christmas, Ani at Beacon Theatre in November... and if I acted on those thoughts- POOF! I'd be maxed again.

[winces]

"Silver-White Winters That Melt Into Spring"

These are a few of my favourite things about my roommate:

1. My day with Fizz starts at 6 am, when she graciously wakes me up every morning and ensures I stay awake. Because of her, I don't have that horrific alarm clock thing to deal with. Goddess bless.
2. Fizz shares my joy for this city. She has insatiable energy (except when she's starving) and will go for almost any adventure I throw her way.
3. Upon returning from Florida, I casually mentioned to her that I missed being around women (in general) and lesbians (specifically). She listened to my complaint and nodded empathetically, without a word. A few days later Dyke Night Thursday is born by her random suggestion; she thought about what I said, saw an opportunity to appease my grieving heart (our shared need for Fizz and Barren time outside the flat) et voila. Fizz is so totally going to the lesbian bar JUST FOR ME; she's clearly taken (it's not funny).
4. When I clean, she cleans. When I don't clean, she still cleans (sometimes).
5. She enjoys cooking and does it well, in spite her opinion otherwise.
6. She takes better care of Shits & Giggles than I do; she's more patient with them and, dare I say, loves them more. I'm glad one of us does.
7. She is consistently the most considerate and accommodating roommate anyone could ask for.

It is for all these reasons that I ask for her hand in roomariage; for better or worse, for bitchier or for boring, in brokeness and in wealth, to share in rent-paying for as long as we both shall live.

Literal Rant

That's it: I am officially sick of hearing about the US Election 2004.

I have cast my ballot (for Nader- go suck an egg all you haters).

I am tired of swing voters; their indecision between the Dems and Repubs, who, if you had DONE your research, couldn't be any more different in their ideologies, is just an excuse- so stop blaming politicians for not knowing YOUR OWN ideologies.

A flip-flop is something you buy at the Wal/K/Old Navy/Gap/Macy's-Mart.

Anti-Bush is simply a sexual preference.

The "War in Iraq" is JUST a journalist's wet dream; "terrorism" is subjugation to the politics of killers.

The Soccer Moms and NASCAR Dads watch idly as the Children Not Left Behind are molested by their Uncle Sam.

And Allah will NOT bless this country anymore than she will any other country.


Disillusioned? You're goddamned right, I'm disillusioned. But I been hallucinating since well before Bush stole office and flew three jet liners into America's economic security.

Moving On

I am home. Well, Queens, anyway. But from the feel of things, I can no longer call Florida home. My life there is now just a ribbon of silk wrapped around the hearts of my past.

Last night I fell asleep on the hardwood floor and my Darling Roommate willed me awake out of fear that I'd wake up hating life. Now that's home...

Meh

Oh, that I miss my girl, whom I have none. But if I did...

Ms. Amiss

It's not that I feel unloved; I don't.

I don't wont for anything in the friendship department. Honestly, I think I could be the luckiest person alive. My friends are as devoted to me as I am to them and I know that, if I needed to, I could ask anything of them and they would comply without question.

I know the same of my family; they have proven since the dawn of my time their love and dedication to me.

And things for me in the centre of my civilisation couldn't really be looking brighter. I've got a good job (with the promise of a permanent position when I go back), I'm nearly done with school and I live in NYFC.*

Something in my heart is amiss, though, and I think I've figured out the syndrome: T.D.M.M.A.M.A.I.M.T.** It's not devestating; in fact, it's completely curable. Nothing a night of drinking red wine with my Charm Sisters can't fix, but the circumstances don't help, either.

I've flown down here to play Priest in one wedding and Bridesmaid in another; in between that, my grandmother is moving to town, so all the immediate (and extended) familial attention is paid to her. I flew down here to be here for them but all I can think about is how much I miss them. And missing and needing them are completely different emotions from being there for them.

I want to be selfish, I need to be selfish, but I know I should be selfless. In the interim I'm just blue.

Nothing is as I expected it to be and, I figure, they don't think I miss them as much as they miss me, which is why no one is saying anything. It's like that thing they do in movies when they give up their One True Love because they think they're holding them back. Who wants to be the only one in the relationship missing the other one?

The Lesbians' committment ceremony was perfect; it's exactly what I would want for myself. And The Lifelong Couple's wedding will be divine and fun, I'm sure. Heck. I've even squeezed in some Subway time, too. Plus I helped move my grandmother in her new apartment, a deal on which I was unhappy to give in.

Literally, I can't complain. Ask me, "What's wrong?" and I can't give you a legitimate response. I came down here to do a couple of jobs and I'm doing them.


*New York Fucking City
**They-Don't-Miss-Me-As-Much-As-I-Miss-Them

Oh, Look- Words!

Poorly formed and rhyming, but it's been so long since "poetry" has been in my head.

there are days when i know i will conquer the world
and that i'll do it on my own.
and there are days (and hours like these) that find me
more empty than alone,
when all the world is at my door and still
i cant answer the phone.

you cry out for me when i want you most,
which seems to be most of the time,
yet you withdraw from me, half-heartedly,
when i vaguely suggest you're mine;
logically, reasonably, "why?"
never crosses my mind.

ask me what i want and you'll get a maze of reasons
why;
but tell me what i want and you'll be firmly answered,
"goodbye."

When I Haven't Words of My Own...

I'm in a Kahlil Gibran mood this evening; I found The Prophet lying on the bookshelf of this guest bedroom and pulled it out to share it with She. Since then, his words have been filling a space in my head and, while I would like to share all of it with you, I thought I would draw from the inspiration of A Friend and just give you a smattering of his words.

You talk
when you cease
to be at peace
with your thoughts;
And when you can no longer
dwell
in the solitude of your heart
you live in your lips,
and sound is a diversion and a pastime.

And in much of your talking,
thinking is half murdered.
Your soul is oftentimes a battlefield,
upon which your reason
and your judgment
wage war against passion
and your appetite.
Would that I could
be the peacemaker in your soul,
that I might turn
the discord and the rivalry
of your elements into
oneness and melody.

But how shall I,
unless you
yourselves
be also
the peacemakers, nay,
the lovers
of all your elements?

Your hearts know
in silence the secrets
of the days and the nights.
But your ears thirst
for the sound of your heart's knowledge.

You would know in words
that which you have always known
in thought.
You would touch
with your fingers
the naked body
of your dreams.
Is not the cup
that hold your wine
the very cup
that was burned
in the potter's oven?
And is not the lute
that soothes your spirit,
the very wood
that was hollowed
with knives?

When love beckons
to you follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold
you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden
among his pinions
may wound you.
And when he speaks to you
believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter
your dreams
as the north wind lays waste
the garden.

Who among you does not feel
that his power to love is boundless?

For love is sufficient unto love.

Love has no other desire but to fulfil itself.

And it drinks me while I drink it.

(From: The Farewell, Reason and Passion, Joy and Sorrow, Talking, Love and Self-Knowledge)

I Am Home.

The end.

Almost Home

This morning, while enjoying my paper and cup of made-for-espresso-coffee, I lingered on the sofa a little longer than usual. When I typically head downstairs to take a shower, I laid back on the futon just long enough to watch salmon-coloured clouds streak the pale cerulean horizon. It occurred to me that while I've been here, though I've been awake for many sunrises, I have yet to watch a single one of them. In fact, it's not been since before I left home that I've seen the familiar rising-sun clouds.

One more day...

Hellooooo, Joseph!

You know that scene in Far and Away when "Joseph" is trying to sleep and everyone in the house is having noisy, noisy sex and he's so pent up that he runs out of the house, down the street and into the fight club and knocks out a boxer with one fierce slug, finally finding a release for all that sexual frustration?

I feel ya, Joseph.

Drunk, This Time Emotionally

I have been weepy all day. Most of that is because I watched the season finale of Sex and the City and, maybe, the reason I cried so much, is because of the friendship difficulties addressed in the show and how much I relate to them..

I think I miss my Florida friends. Despite being surrounded by a few choice individuals since July, I have been completely alone. I have had a connection with them unmatched, but I still long for the connection I had with friends before. And because I long for those old connections, I feel alone without them, in spite of the new connections I've made here. It's like- I could have (and do have) exactly what I need for great friendship here, but because it's not the SAME as what I have in Florida, I feel like I don't have any friendship at all.

I miss quiet people and when I'm around my quiet people here, I miss the noisiness of my non-quiet people back in Florida. Nothing here is the brand of people I want, despite how lucky I feel to be surrounded here by friends who care for and about me, who would do anything for me and who are, if I would let them be, exactly what I need.

I guess just haven't adjusted to the friendship void in my life yet. I have been mindful of my life in Utah lately and the adjustment period I went through there. I guess, moving up here, I thought things would be different, that I wouldn't have any trouble not being intimately connected with my Florida people. And I've spent so much time ignoring the fact that I miss them and need them, that I've been utterly negligent to myself.

And so tonight I am emotionally drunk. I'm going home to Florida at the end of next week and thinking about being back there has reminded me of the fact that I'm not there now. And that I have not been there in over three months. I imagine that's why this current well of emotion has sprung up.

I miss you all very much. And all the shiny new adventures, freshly strengthened relationships and success stories I tell don't amount to much without the faces of my history to share them with.

Goddesses Bless Björk

I wake up
And the day feels
Broken
I tilt my head
I'm trying to get an angle
'Cause the evening
I've always longed for
It could still happen

How do I master
The perfect day
Six glasses of water
Seven phonecalls

If you leave it alone
It might just happen
Anyway

It's not up to you
Oh it never really was
It's not up to you
Oh it never really was
It's not up to you
Well it never really was
It's not up to you

If you wake up
And the day feels
Ah broken
Just lean into the crack
(Just lean into the crack)
And it will tremble
Ever so nicely
Notice
How it sparkles
Down there

I can decide
What I give
But it's not up to me
What I get given
Unthinkable surprises
About to happen
But what they are

It's not up to you
Well it never really was
It's not up to you
Oh it never really was
It's not up to you
Oh it never really was
It's not up to you
Oh, me, share
It's not up to you
It's not up to you
Oh, it never really was
It's not up to you
Well, it never really was
It's not up to you
It's not up to you
It's not up to you
It's not up to you

There's too much
Clinging
To peak
There's too much
Pressure

T.C-M.I.F.*

The Boy heard on Air America this morning that Maggie Gyllenhaal was hosting a DebateWatch tonight at Crobar. He actually sent me a text this morning during my commute which asked, "Do you want to meet Maggie Gyllenhaal?" Now, this boy is FULL of surprises and, at least in my magical image of him, would totally be the person to make something like this possible. So I got the skinny from him and now I'm making plans for the evening.

Oh, yeah, and I'm at work, too. My temp agent, Steve, just called, inquiring about my announcement to the HR Rep here that I will be out the 14th- 22nd. He was concerned I was being flaky and wished I had told him about this sooner. To be honest, I didn't know if I would be needed here permanently until Wednesday. Yesterday, when I told the HR Rep, Stephanie, about my vaca, I made it clear to her that I wanted to return on the 25th. She responded that she wasn't guarenteeing anything.

Apparently, later on, when she called Steve to request a temp in my place, she told him she needed one only for the dates I would be gone, implying that they want me back.

SUH-WEET.

*Cro-Magnons invented the first calendar, a lunar calendar circa 38,000 BCE.

A Couple of Things...

I am in-love again. This time, I will not relent. Not now, not ever. Never again. This love is eternal and shall not be disuaded. It is different from every other in-love episode I have ever had in that this time- I'm in-love with scarves. And to think they are sold IN BULK on the street corner 2 blocks away, two for five dollars. Can you IMAGINE my good fortune?! Goddess bless them for they are divine. Perhaps, then, I should say, "Scarves bless them." Hmmm... ACHOO! Scarves bless you! I like the way that moves.

------

So, it just occurred to me LAST NIGHT that I will be in Florida in 7 days! [mightily squeals] The only problem is that I have this great new job (which WILL become permanent, I am convinced) and now I have to leave it and risk a new temp taking over my position. To remedy that, I shall make myself invaluable in the next few days. Commence Operation: ExecAsst Takeover.

------

If you're one of the many folks looking to spend time in the evening on the phone with me, my schedule is cramped. Restricted minutes keep me off the phone until 9 pm, the Cellphoneless Flatemate needs time to talk to her man and I to Ms. MILF. Put on top of that lack of energy nearing the 10 o'clock hour (getting up at 6 am tuckers me out come the evening, let alone the commute home). Mix all this together and I only have about 2 hours of talk time in me to spare and half a dozen people requesting my attention. You'll forgive if you've felt ignored. I am an equal opportunity ignorer, fret not.

------

Oh, and I need a new portable CD player. For some reason it keeps cutting out JUST when the song is getting good 'n powerful and right when I'm forgetting that people are staring. This morning I tried (in vain) a total of six times to get through Björk's Cocoon. It seemed to cut out just at the lyrics:

He slides inside
Half awake,
half asleep
We faint back
Into sleephood
When I wake up
The second time
In his arms
Gorgeousness
He's still inside me

And you know she just sings them so lushly and sensually, it's such a pity to be interrupted by the noise of the street corner or the rushing train.

And no, this isn't a complaint. You know that I am, as usual, eternally grateful.

Today- the Fax Machine; Tomorrow- the World!

It took me 2 hours to send a fax this morning, my first effort playing with the silly creature. Early on I suspected PEBCAK* issues and quickly doubted my self-promoted qualifications for being an Executive Assistant.

After several failed attempts and thinking on my feet, I researched the company's phone number** to call and verify the fax number. They told me I was faxing the wrong number, so I atempted to fax the RIGHT number.

In between all this, I was back and forth between the fax machine, copier, phones and managing/taking requests from my coworkers (today is the day they all decided to give me work to do- hurrah!). To be fair, I wasn't exactly sitting in front of the machine all morning long trying over and over and over again.

In the end, I finally asked for assistance from the kind gentleman who sits the next cubicle over from the copier/fax area. Turns out I was dialing the wrong number all along. [blushes] It's all good, though. I played it off like it was the machine/receiving-end's fault.

I am slowly getting used to being an executive's assistant. I rather like calling up other executives on behalf of him and saying, "This is Arnold Cohen's office, Mr. Cohen would like to speak with [insert other executive's name here]." Or, when I get to be a full-on New Yorker, it'll be, "Arnold Cohen for Donald Trump, please." Everyone I call has their own assistant and I feel a connection to each of them. We are the faceless folks keeping in order our bosses' business (and, if you're good, personal) lives.

Plus, when I speak on behalf of my executive, I have authority, even though my sweet voice may not. :)

*Problem Exists Between Client And Keyboard.
** There was no way I was going to return a failure to the person who asked me to send the fax.

You... have... THE POWER!!!

For my American congregation...

Congress Dot Org has an excellent resource for educating yourself about coming elections in your state.

Just go here and choose your state from the drop-down menu in the far right column. Gather information about the presidential race, your state's Senate and Congressional races and any or all ballot initiatives.

Each section has extensive information available about all the candidates and proposed amendments and is highly impartial.

So, go on, pick up the sword, wield the power... it's about time you were in the know.

Marilyn Monroe I Am Not*

*But not for lack of effort.

For two days in a row I have worn a skirt and a pair of hose (I know; get over it). This morning's skirt was long and flowing, cascading to my ankles. After coming out of the subway station, while waiting to cross the street, I stood over a subway vent, completely oblivious to the (I learned a moment later) inevitable fate.

As a train careened into the station below, a WHOOSH of air blew my skirt up who-knows-how-high (the pantyhose prevented me from feeling anything on my legs). I let fly with a surprised Wooooo! and danced away from the grate, smoothing down my skirt and looking around for revealing smiles indicating a free peep show. None were found, which tells me there was either too little skin revealed or too little interest shown.

It's All Coming Together Now...

So the HR Rep (Stephanie) walked into my office this morning and we got to chatting about the woman who was in my position before me and that they were looking to fill her vacancy. I mentioned that I considering throwing my hat in the ring and she encouraged me to do so. So she forwarded me the ad and tomorrow I'll bring in a cover letter and (tidied) résumé.

This could be me, eh?

Executive Assistant to the CEO

Leading direct service and advocacy organization has exciting opportunity for a well-organized, motivated professional with strong interpersonal and communication skills to work with the CEO and provide day-to-day administrative support, help in preparing for board meetings, and oversight of office services and administrative staff. Candidates should have a Bachelor’s degree, prior administrative experience, strong computer and internet skills, and ability to take on special projects. Competitive salary and benefits. Resume, cover letter and sal. reqs to: The Partnership for the Homeless, HR Representative, 305 Seventh Avenue, NY, NY 10001.

Joining the Morning Commute

This morning I strapped on a pair of pantyhose, tucked my dress shoes in my bag, piled on my walking shoes and clamoured out of my flat, headed for Manhattan. I got a job, I beamed, and I'm going to it right now.

The commute was easy as pie; I waited for the bus maybe 3 minutes and got off at the Woodside 7 station. I stood on the platform (and felt the air, the air, the air on my face) and waited 5 minutes for the 7 Express. After trying to push my way onto the train and folks REFUSING to move to the middle of the car to make room at the ends, the conducter closed the doors on me; I looked at him with a pathetic Uh, I'm standing in the doorway here look and he just shook his head. So I bitched up and stepped back. Other than that, the commute was quick and easy. The 28th St stop on the 9 line is RIGHT across the street from the PFTH office, though I didn't discover that until I wandered around a bit, trying to gather my bearings.

I found the office with a half hour to spare and had a bagel 'n coffee in Rosa's Cafe across the street; bagel and a coffee- $2.45. I discovered the main office entrance under the scaffolding (7th Ave side) and was a good ten minutes early, eager to make a positive impression with my (potential) employers/possible recommendation.

Stephanie Ray, human resources, greeted me showed me to my desk (an office with a view of the NYC skyline). I met Arnold Cohen, the president of the organisation- I am his personal secretary. Suh-weet.

I spent the whole morning trying to to figure out what the hell I was supposed to be doing (i.e. re-arranging my desk, digitalising Mr. Cohen's Rolodex, reading thoroughly the NY Times- maybe my job description was in there-, squeezing in some OHO time, crossing and uncrossing my legs, etc.), and once I gave up on that I went to lunch; pizza and a coke from Rosa's- $4.25.

What does it feel like to be an Employed New Yorker? Quite a bit like being an Unemployed New Yorker, only I have to sit up straight, wear pantyhose and be self-conscious. Can I complain about this job? Probably eventually, but not today.

Being a temp is cake. And for $13 an hour, it's better 'n the New York Cheese kind. And hey- it keeps me off the streets.

PS

JFK secured my vote after last night's debate.

Unusually Good News

Well, out of sheer necessity (asking my folks for money and ensuring I didn't come to them with empty hands NOT full of job prospects) I called up a temp agent (thank you, Fizz and Juantas) and waltzed right into a temp agent position. Ta-da!

Still, my folks were not as pleased as I was about my recent activities, concerned that when-the-wind-blows dependency on job calls is NOT a steady income. Lo and behold, this morning I get a call from my agent (may God continue to bless this great man) telling me that, not only has he found me a $13/hr week-long job to start on Monday, but it's with an NPO (!!!) called The Partnership for the Homeless. How excited am I?!?!

Well, this prospect is chock full of opportunities: potential for internship credit (translatable into school credit, aka graduating earlier), networking capabilities (introduction the NP community), and permanent job offers within the organisation.

Oh, I'm coming with résumé (and a writing sample) in hand.

Now, if only I had some clothes to wear...