june 01

++++++++++++

phone home

6/26/01
Lord, I went back to the dr's today. I'm not even sure why I was going in the first place, other than that I'm a hypochondriac. I've been having this really bad dizziness, where my vision goes bad and all I can see are stars and I start to pass out. It's really pretty freaky, and I keep thinking its a blood clot in the brain or I'm verging on a stroke. I knew they were going to say it was anxiety-induced, and they did. Huh, I still don't know if I believe that explanation. With the amount of blood they took, I would think they'd have to find something askew. The real kicker was when I was told my blood pressure was too high and that they wouldn't refill my birth control prescription. This is actually a big deal, and now I have to go back again next week to see if today was just a fluke. Great, now I'll have heart disease and get knocked-up. I really think the benefits of exercise have been overrated. I mean, why do I jog around like a fool on a treadmill 40 min., 3-4 times a week? For fun? Certainly not. I may as well sit on my ass watching television all night, if this is the thanks I get. It would nice to take responsibility for my own bad health, but I'd rather blame my father, the man of many diseases (high blood pressure, high cholesterol, heart failure, obesity, diabetes and cancer). I never heard from him after sending a Father's Day card, and telling him I'd moved, so he could be dead for all I know. Hmm...and I suspect all I would stand to inherit would be his bad genes. Thanks. This weekend was full of so many bad omens, I almost feared stepping out the door. I was completely scarred this weekend while driving around out of town. James and I were on this highway in PA when we saw this tiny bobbing shape in the middle of our lane. I thought it was a big leaf or something, but as we gained on it, it turned out to be a little grey and white kitten flopping around. We couldn't slow down and went right over it, I cringed, waiting for the bump, but it must've stayed right in the center between the tires and we passed over it, and from the rear view mirror we saw it run into the grassy median. It totally freaked me out. Why was it twisting and doing a backspin in the street unless the car in front of us had hit it? It seemed OK enough to run, but I couldn't stop worrying about it all day. (We went back later in the day to look for it, and I didn't see it flattened on the side of the road. Not to say it couldn't be smashed on the other side of the highway, out of eyesight. I hadn't seen so much roadkill in years. Dead possums [and one dog] lined highway shoulders. I couldn't figure out if it was because of a large wild animal population or really bad drivers. I tend to say the latter. At least while driving around later that night we spotted three live deer walking around. It made me feel a little bit better about the world.) Minutes later, we got semi-lost and had to pull over in this pizza place parking lot to read our map. As we were sitting in the car, I noticed another car backing straight towards the side of our car. James hit the horn, which didn't stop the woman from hitting us anyway. I was fuming (ack, the blood pressure). It wasn't busy. It was early. In fact, we were the only two in the parking lot and it wasn't cramped. I was just like, "I don't need this shit!" She was all freaky and apologetic and blamed her inattention on the fact that her and her daughter had gotten into a fight earlier. I was just wondering why she was in the parking lot of a closed pizzeria--was the bar next door open? I only ask because like every 10 ft. in PA there's an anti-drunk driving sign (with Coors ads placed every 5 ft.), and police are everywhere. There's clearly a drinking and driving problem out there. After we got the hell out of there, we got into this slow traffic jam, then realized we were being held up because there was an accident up ahead. Police and ambulances were all over the place--I even got a peek at some guy on a stretcher. This did not bode well for anything. That afternoon we were in an Old Navy parking lot and a van started backing right towards us while we were walking! I jumped out of the way, and James almost got smacked. A creepy trend was forming. People complain about NY drivers, but at least they look when backing and making turns. I was jumpy all weekend. Each and every car on the road and in parking lots posed a possible threat. Sunday was a little more relaxing, we ate at the Old Country Buffet (ow, my heart), then went antiquing (I always feel weird about using that verb). As we were heading back to our car, I could see a large sedan carelessly backing out of the gravel lot...straight into two men having a conversation. I could see it was about to happen, but at this point had lost the will to care or warn. They got hit. Not hard enough to knock either of them down, but enough to push the one guy forward about a foot and piss him off. I don't know what's up with Pennsylvania Dutch country, but I suggest the residents stick to horse-drawn buggies and spare the rest of us our lives.

6/20/01
I was hopping mad yesterday when I showed up at the dr. after taking off work, and found out the dr. wasn't in. But it's one of those things where you're angry enough to hit someone at the time, but a few hours later doesn't mean much. It wasn't so much that I took off time (which I have to make up by working late all week) and hauled my ass in Manhattan for no good reason. It was that the office staff was all crazy and nasty, and told me to wait for a resident, which I didn't want to because last time I saw a resident they were all half-assed and didn't believe I had a urinary tract infection, and insisted on doing all the std tests that I didn't want, and then I got charged for them because it wasn't covered by insurance. After sitting for like 10 min. I decided I wanted to leave and reschedule with my usual dr., but they wouldn't let me, and some insane nurse took me to some other office altogether, peeking in doors till she found some resident who looked unbusy and told her she was supposed to see me, and it was very clear she didn't want to, and I was like, I don't even want to be here so told them I was leaving. Then the nurse got all irate (she was a black woman with green contacts that make you look all demonic. I guess contacts make white people look off too, but you know, it was more pronounced) and started yelling at me, and I got into a fight with her in the waiting room and everyone looked at me like I was the bitch. All I wanted was to reschedule my appt. and they wouldn't let me. The receptionist acted like she didn't see me standing at the counter so I got like a mentally ill person and started saying loudly, "All I want to do is reschedule my appt." and everyone in the place averted their eyes like I was a blabbering vagrant. I swear to god, it sounds silly now, but I completely lost my shit. It's too freakin' hot for people to waste my time and give me the run around. We were supposed to get an air conditioner at work fri...and what's today, wed? Do we have one? What do you think? I'm tired of people being half-assed. I told my boss today I wasn't coming in tomorrow, that I'd rather work at home where it's tolerable. If I ever get a new job (yeah, if), the first question, no matter how nutty it sounds, will be if they have air conditioning or not.

6/16/01
Ack, the hot finally hit, and I'm not taking it too well. I finally gave in and turned on the air conditioner, but I'm scared. Scared of the bill. Especially since today I found a dirty, crumpled postcard in front of my door about how Con Ed tried to do a reading, but since no one was home, they'd estimate the usage. Estimate?! Wha? It also said you could do the reading yourself and call by midnight, but the space for today's date was blank, and it looked like the thing had been blowing around the ground for ages. Coincidentally, my electric bill showed up in the mail today too, and they'd estimated I'd used $45 worth of electricity, which is hard to believe since the bill at my last apt. was never over $30. I think there's something very suspect about the whole thing. $45? And that's without even touching the air conditioner. Yikes. After work, on my way to the gym (yeah, I've decided to take up that pointless pursuit with a stupid vengeance--so far, I've been averaging four visits a week and I'm flabby as ever), I was on the bus and there were only a few scattered, shared seats so I decided to just stand. I was only going like 20 blocks so it wasn't a big deal, but this woman behind me was all, "Miss, there's a seat here" and I was like, "Thanks, but I'm getting off soon," and marveled at how polite she was. I mean, people are rarely nice about seats on public transportation unless you're old, disabled...or pregnant. Did she think I was freakin' pregnant?! I chose to believe as much and got really disturbed. Jeez, I was on my way to lift weights and run around on a treadmill like a retard, and yet I'm still so malformed that I look pregnant? I'm sure I was overreacting, but the rest of the day, I couldn't help looking at my reflection in windows every 10 seconds. I don't think I looked with child. It'd be one thing if I was all spindly, and just happened to have a huge gut, but I'm pretty well-rounded all over. People shouldn't be polite and giving like that, it just makes me suspicious and neurotic.

12:48am addendum: If you ever want to feel weird about your life, stay home alone on a friday night, sip rum and sparkling lemonade, drag out The Smiths, and read old journal entries. It's sort of grounding really. I'd forgotten half the odd, minute things I was obsessing over in '98. Boys, for one. Till tonight, it never hit me so hard how strange it is that I've ended up in a relatively stable and serious relationship with someone I was nutty, ga ga over more than two years ago. That I met on Friday the 13th, of all days. Not to get sappy, but I get so caught up with day to day crap, that I don't notice things like I used to. I used to get excited and marvel at the littlest things. I think my tone's different somehow now, I take everything for granted. I still complain, and moan and feel unsatisfied and can't find a decent job, and scrimp and save to no avail and am constantly in jealous awe over the rest of the city's spending and purchasing habits. Actually, it's more acute now. I wasn't as aware two years ago about the disparity. I knew it didn't seem fair that I was making $10/hr temping, and literally had $2 to my name. I can clearly remember the time my checking account went over $1,000. Recently, it reached $2,000 (before paying shitloads of bills) and you'd think that'd be a monumental jump from '98, marking a rise in my standard of living, but it doesn't mean much in an era where friends make $2,000/week, and I barely clear that in an entire month. My expectations are higher now and it kind of sucks. It's nice to be oblivious. I used to be naive, sweet and young (when moving, I found sticker photos from when I first moved here, and I looked like a little kid), I swear, and I didn't even know or cherish it at the time. Now I'm a jaded, haggard drudge (don't you wonder why I don't update [or remove, altogether] my only photo on this site? I keep meaning to put up something 2001 current, but with every roll of film developed, I seem to grow more beastly), and it makes me kind of sad. This is the first weekend I'll be spending in this apt. and I actually kind of like it. I've spent practically every weekend in Manhattan for the past year and a half, and it's nice and convenient and keeps me from dwelling so hard. But you need to stay in alone and reflect every now and then. I'd forgotten what it was like to be in an uncool, isolated neighborhood and have to make your own fun. It's really great. Tomorrow I have plans to go to Century 21 (for you out-of-towners: a discount store, not the realty company) in freakin' Bay Ridge (everyone's all nuts about the one downtown, but no one in their right mind goes to the one in S. Brooklyn, unless they live in the neighborhood, and fortunately [or unfortunately, depending on your standards] I live like 12 minutes away by subway) and also check out the Chinatown near here and pick up all sorts of goodies. This is the first chance I've had to just meander around the area and see what's up. I used to get a sick thrill from walking insane distances from Ridgewood to random stores and pockets of nothingness. That was out of necessity since I didn't know anyone and had lots of time to kill, but it was good clean fun. Now I have access to a car via a boyfriend, people to hang out with, and I've become spoiled. I don't know what it's saying about me, but it feels weird to see the contrast of irrational fixation on this guy from entries past, and then now feeling all wound up and excited because he's out of town and I can revert to being a loner, miserable shit who wanders back alleys by herself again. Not that I'm glad he's gone, but it appears that I've reached this mature secure stage where there's no need to obsess and fret over boys, and I'm equally happy doing my own thing. This healthy balance is what scares me the most.

6/11/01
I was told that I had a big aura this weekend. Great, right? Not that I go in for that sort of new age nonsense, but it freaked me out a tiny bit. I was a widow this weekend since James was working like a maniac, which is OK sometimes. It always seems like when I'm out alone (not alone, alone, but not with a boyfriend...or truly alone too) weirder interactions with strangers ensue (well, the weekend before, I was harassed by these guys on the subway stairs about my socks. It was sort of creepy because they were initially like frat-style menacing, then all friendly and one guy kept asking my name and put his arm around me, but they took off when they realized I was with a guy. So, I guess that reinforces what I was saying about how people (males) will act differently when they think you're out by yourself). Sat., I was out with Jessica and "Childstar" (we don't call him that to his face, but the guy has this weird grown up childstar look, like when a cute kid doesn't age so well. A moppety and chubby-cheeked appearance does very different things for a 10 year old vs. a 30-something). Anyway, we ran into Childstar and his new roommate. And the roommate rubbed me the wrong way off the bat. Not for any good reason, but before he even knew my name, he was bumming cigarettes. That's annoying. Plus, he seemed too close when he spoke to me. Then, out of the blue, he started going into his aura spiel. I was a captive audience since everyone else was preoccupied with work talk, and I don't work with them. The guy was trashed so I should've taken his words with a grain of salt, but then, I'd had more than my fair share too, so I paid attention. What got me, was not so much his insistence that I had this strong, giant aura (supposedly bigger than anyone else's at the table), but his saying that I surround myself with weak, miserable creepy types. I prefer to call them downtrodden, or misunderstood, but yes, I really do know how to find them. I've always considered myself a classic freak magnet, but the part that peaked my attention, was according to the roommate I don't attract them, I seek them, which is a waste of a good aura. I really do on some level, and it bothered me that this stranger said so. I seek out unpleasantness. It's plain as that. So why don't I just nip it in the bud? I wish I knew how. OK, I shouldn't put stock in such hogwash--really, I think the aura business was just a thinly veiled excuse for the guy to get close enough to whisper in my ear and repeatedly touch me. When he started rubbing my back, I was like "time to get the hell out of here" (not to mention it was 4:15, and we were being booted out anyway). I guess the theme here is impressions and appearances, and how I I'm really wrong about what I think I'm like and what I project to others. Like half the time (or more), I feel sort of dull, blah, wishy-washy and that I have the worst social life in history and everyone must sense my uninterestingness, or else I'd always be out having a good time. But it seems that people think I am always out having a good time. Childstar suggested going to newish bar, Iona, and started talking about all the new joints on Grand St., and I rattled them off before he could, which made him think I was some crazy Williamsburg scenester, which is so not true. I live in the middle of nowhere--I just read lots of websites at work because I'm bored and mentally under-stimulated. Later, I started going off on this annoying guy "Cunty" (I'm not the one who gave him the charming nickname) and how his play had just gotten this good review, and how he was on some recent VH1 special, as the rock journalist expert and how gross it all is because he's nothing special. Really, I only know the guy in passing, he's friends of friends, but I know enough to steer clear. But this rambling elicited the response that I "know everybody." And I don't. I don't know anybody. But it was an eye-opener to realize that people think I have this strong personality, know all the hotspots and hipster movers and shakers in town. Maybe this is an angle I should be working. I mean, if people really think I'm plugged into this world that I'm not, then why shouldn't I make it work for me somehow? Instead of wallowing and focusing on the sadsacks of the world, I could be out tearing up the pea patch (I've always wanted to use that phrase). Or not.

6/5/01
Did I ever mention that I gave in and bought an air conditioner? Yeah, I made a mad midnight dash to Home Depot that 90° first week of May, scared they'd run out and/or start jacking the prices up. Well, guess what? I've yet to use it. It immediately turned gray and rainy, which is actually the kind of NW weather that I thrive on. The temperature hasn't popped out of the 70s yet, and it is June. It's just a matter of time before I'm complaining and crying my scorched eyes out. Once the heat kicks in, it doesn't let up till Oct. But now, as my fourth NYC summer is drawing near, I'm prepared! Where's the stifling weather, already?! Speaking of appliances, it occurred to me a while ago that I left my food processor under the sink of my old apt. Ooh, that steams me. It's very frustrating. And to compound matters, my ice cream maker won't fit in my new tiny freezer. Oh well. I got up the nerve to join a new gym, and went for the first time today. I was all scared because its like a real gym where normal people of both genders go instead of the women's prison atmosphere I'm accustomed to. It wasn't too bad after all--people appear to have manners, follow the rules, speak English and mind their own business. There were TVs instead of blaring salsa music, and I didn't see a single Puerto Rican flag draped over the equipment. I did see this guy John who I have a grudge against for no serious reason. It's just that I get really worked up over job/money stuff, and am constantly being faced with the fact that the only interesting, well-paying jobs come from connections, knowing the right people etc. I was recently bemoaning how I've never gotten a job (or even much of a lead) through a friend, while 100% of the folks I know have been practically handed opportunities. Well, it is true. And it's because people are selfish shits who think they have power because they work in the entertainment industry. People with entertainment jobs have really bad personalities and no regard for others. It's sad, but true. I can think of a handful of times a friend or acquaintance has said, "oh, so-and-so needs someone at such-and-such company" and when I attempt to pursue the opportunity, nothing happens because the person supposedly in need of help flakes, and doesn't respond. And it's not me, OK? It's all them because I do nothing peculiar. I simply inquire about the alleged available position. The only time one of these situations turned into an actual interview (my first in NYC now that I think about it) was when I first moved here in '98, and got hooked up with this John guy I saw at the gym today. He worked at a music website (that's now defunct), and I was there about some low-level departmental asst. job (that sadly, paid more than almost all the jobs I've gotten since then). Well, I never heard back on it, and whenever I saw him at parties he'd act all weasley and never give me straight answers. Whatever, I suppose. I never see the guy. I did go to a Halloween party last year at his apt. (I didn't know it was at his place till I got there), and he inappropriately started asking James questions about how a certain girl, that he's no longer in contact with, was doing. And without dredging skeletons out of closets and crossing privacy boundaries, I'll just say that the topic of this girl is absolutely taboo. It goes without saying, that everyone knows better than to bring up the situation (even though I did mention it way back in Project Me before I worried about who reads this). Not even me, and I'm his freakin' girlfriend. I don't know, it was just bad vibes all around. It's dumb stubbornness, but when someone gets my goat, even in the most benign way, I can't let go of the animosity. Just two weekends ago, I saw John (and this other girl who also flaked on a potential job) at a show. They were with good friends of mine I was meeting, but I couldn't acknowledge them because they're on my bad list for life. The really demented part of this, is that I'm sure he doesn't even know my name. I go off like a disgruntled nut, and the objects of my wrath aren't losing any sleep over my sorry ass. That's an obsessor's life, getting worked up over those they irrationaly love and hate. People really need to be more conscious of their actions, no matter how minute they may be because some folks remember details like elephants, and those folks just can't forgive lapses in judgement. Hmm...it makes me wonder how many people in the world have issues with me for things that I've never given second thought to or claim no culpability for? I'm sure they exist.

6/4/01
I've found the best new character, Kogepan. He's this piece of burnt bread that no one wants to buy so he gets dejected and wanders around, envies the better looking buns and gets drunk off milk. Uh, yeah it's an Asian thing. I'm not sure if it's Japanese or Korean, but it's certainly nuts. If I could only read all the little blurbs on the merchandise that I went overboard buying Sat. at the Opane store in Midtown's mini Korean district. I got turned onto the place by its peculiar website that I recently stumbled upon. They sell things like stationery, "Christian gifts" and ramen, but the weirdest section is found by clicking the confession link on the homepage. It takes you to this page with random tests, and a "Men's Private Room" with advice on quitting smoking and how to tell a woman's personality by her breast shape, complete with cartoon illustrations. Odd stuff. I've gone a little crazy looking for Kogepan goodies. Today I found Kogepan boxer shorts on ebay, but they were a men's small, and besides, buying (used? Isn't that supposed to be illegal on ebay?) underwear off the internet is creepy, right? I need to get some self control.