1999
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1998
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Stalking
Lone Star Thomas
Goodies
phone home
3/30/00
A couple days ago I was talking to a friend about rats and mice because he'd been having all these incidents involving them. Like he buried a dead rat and then found a dead mouse and there was a third mouse bit, but I can't remember the details and it made me think about how a few years ago in like a one week period I kept seeing mice and rats everywhere (outside) and I got all cornball and thought that maybe it was supposed to be telling me something since I'm a rat in the Chinese zodiac. Then a couple days ago I freaked out because I kept hearing noises in my apt. When I was going to the bathroom and at night. I thought maybe it was something rattling outside and then one night just as I was dozing off I heard a sound like mini-blinds hitting against a window as if they were being blown. It didn't bother me until I realized it was coming from the living room direction and those windows are bare. I got all sweaty and panicky. It was suggested to me that I had a mouse, but I wouldn't believe it. Last night I was on the phone in bed and I heard scraping and spazzed out--then I saw it--the tiny little grey rat (mouse) bastard poking around the corner of some flattened cardboard. I went nuts. The phone conversation I'd been having was about people who cry too easily and how I don't approve and that I never cry (unless I'm drunk, maudlin and pathetic). Well, I went into instant hysterics like those cartoon women who jump on tables and pull up their skirts, screaming, "mouse!" I've been jumpy ever since. I just don't like the idea of a mouse running around, doing whatever it pleases. If it were wearing a khakis, hightops, and sounded like Michael J. Fox, that'd be one thing, but this is no Stuart Little. I slept with all the lights on and was too scared to close my eyes. I don't know what to do with it. I'm so tired and all day I've been nervous and twitchy and seeing things out of the corner of my eye. Someone dropped the cap to a pen on the subway this evening and I jumped and my heart started racing. I don't really want to kill it, but --shit, I can hear it scurrying around as I type. I think it's under the oven. I'm going to have to do something about this situation or else I'm going to go completely batty. I can't write anymore because it's too difficult to keep switching my gaze from the kitchen to the computer screen
3/27/00
Oh. My. God. Am I the only one who saw what I think I saw on the Oscars last night?! Normally, I don't even watch the darn show, but somehow I was suckered into it and since I happened to be in one of those rare giddy moods, I actually laughed out loud (numerous times!) during Billy Crystal's schtick. But Billy pretending to be E.T. and flying around in the basket and later pretending to hit Stephen King during that cornball opening montage is not what I'm talking about. The crowning glory came when the usually low-key best short docmentary category came on. Some movie called, "King Gimp" was nominated, which immediately caught my attention as it appeared to be about a crippled young man. I was like, "King Gimp. Why haven't I heard of that?!" Miraculously, it won and as they panned towards the winners in the audience, this spastic flailing gent was making an insane scene. I mean, he was kicking and spazzing and flopped out of his wheelchair right onto the floor and continued gesticulating wildly. I could not believe my eyes. This was the best academy award moment ever. And everyone just acted like they hadn't seen it and things just proceeded as usual. I guess retards are too taboo for award show humor fodder. I kept waiting, but all I got were the trite missing Oscars and Hilary Swank jokes. I really had higher hopes for Billy Crystal. Do you know what else is funny? Windows on the World, the bar at the top of the World Trade Center. I stopped in for an expensive drink last week and I didn't see any cripples, but oh Lord, businessmen "dancing" to Yaz and Frankie Goes to Hollywood is pretty priceless too. I just don't know that I get Wall St. culture. I don't know that I get a lot of things, but I try. This is out of the blue, but for no particular reason, I've become fascinated with Switzerland. I think it started a couple weeks ago when that fantasy whatever mini-series, "The Tenth Kingdom" was on. I caught the last segment and the whole thing was silly (I mean what do you expect from a show that casts John Laroquette?) but it was fairy-tale-ish with cottages and hills and forests and trolls and for some reason that I can't explain, it all seemed very sexy and that Switzerland would be like that. And the more I learn about the country, the more interesting it sounds, just for the sheer fact that there's absolutely nothing distinctive or remarkable about it. Of course it's politically neutral, but it also seems like a non-entity in other respects. They don't have their own language, there doesn't seem to be a particular cuisine, and nobody famous has ever been Swiss (well, the artist Paul Klee, but how many people give a hoot about him?). All I know is that there are cows, chalets, alps, and chocolate, and that it's one of the most freakin' expensive countries to visit in all of Europe. (I was messing with this salary calculator about a month ago where you could plug in your current salary and see how much you'd have to make in other cities to have the same standard of living. I was disgusted to see that the biggest leap would be for me to move a mere five miles away--into Manhattan. I was determined to find a city to top Manhattan and kept picking various cities around the world. The only one I could find that was more out of control expensive was Geneva. On the other hand, I'd only have to make $4,000 a year in Bulgaria to maintain my standard of living [less than any of the obviously poor African and S. American countries I tested].) Then today at work I was researching greens (you know, spinach, endive, chicory) and was faced with SWISS chard. I think this is a sign that I need to go to Switzerland.
3/20/00
God, there's been a lot of funny, creepy, demented stuff going on these days. It's a shame I can't write about it at the moment. Maybe one day. I was supposed to start my job today, but they moved offices and everything is crazy so I'm starting tomorrow instead. I never thought I'd say this, but I'm actually kind of tired of having so much time off. I mean, I'm pretty good at entertaining myself, but sometimes it's more fun if there are people to do little things with. I've been shopping for birthday presents (there are 3 birthdays coming up--my friend Jane and my boy James both have one on March 22--that's also my sister's husband's birthday) which isn't easy when you're a cheapskate. And I'm the kind of person who has a hard time looking at things for others without wanting to buy stuff for myself. All the shoes I keep seeing that catch my eye are $150+ which is a bit pricey for me. 85% of my shoes come from Rainbow for $14.99 and under, if that tells you anything. Somehow I managed to get two of those gold nameplate necklaces in the same week. One from an ex coworker reading, "Krista" and one from James for our 6 mo. anniversary (sure, puke if you'd like) saying, "Scaredy Kat." For St. Patrick's Day I drank beer, ate corned beef and cabbage and green bagels at some crazy old man bar in the Financial District. The best part was how they kept playing the same Slayer song over and over again. At least I think it was Slayer--it's that song where the chorus keeps chanting, "fight fire with fire." Lord knows who was putting it on. It got me to thinking about how you never hear that rocking double bass drum thing enough these days. Or maybe I'm just not listening to the right music. Sat. I went and saw this movie, "The Lifestyle" about suburban swingers. If you want to see a bunch of flabby, elderly people getting it on with each other's wives in makeshift swings, then this is the documentary for you. I watched too much TV this weekend, but at least I got to finally see "Simon Birch" where the midget kid swaddled up like baby Jesus grabs Mary's tits in the school play and exclaims, "Boobies." It was good stuff. I also got obsessed with this Japanese confectionary shop that I saw on "Martha Stewart." The place is up on 59th and 5th, but I'm scared to go because it looks like one of those sparse SoHo clothing stores with like five things hung in the room, and you know that minimalistic=expensive. Why is Chinese cheap and Japanese (Korean too, for that matter) is spendy? Like in Chinatown (where I was this morning--had very good roast duck on rice for $3.25) you can get like 10 million zillion sweet bean paste buns for $1 and these little Japanese sweets (which are also bean paste based) are like 6 for $19.50. I want to see Martha Stewart mucking around downtown amongst the pails of bloody fish heads and dodging arthritic old Chinese women bent over at 90 degree angles.
3/13/00
I always freak about how I don't have any free time anymore so I was glad to take this week off before starting my new job on the 20th. The thing is, I don't really have anything all that important to do with my free time. But still, it's nice to have it. I used to think that working 30 hours a week was death. Now I can work 40 without batting an eye. There's a creepy tolerance that builds up here. Like I know people who work 12+ hour days, work weekends, work at home when they're not physically at work...they probably dream about work, if they dream at all. So, I didn't do much other than my laundry and grocery shopping today and that was fine. I was intrigued by the falling price of Kraft salmon cream cheese. Everything else in this world is getting out of control expensive. They raised cigarettes from an already ridiculous $3.80 to $4.50! last week. (You think that I would quit, but I don't feel like it at the moment.) So, this cream chese is like $2.59 everywhere and then I noticed that it started being $2.29 at this Italian grocery. It's been like that for months. Then today I went in and it was $1.99! I don't know what's going on, but it made me happy. I don't know why I find stupid details so interesting. I know that not everyone is so fascinated. I just remembered this incident where I was at a soccer team pizza party when I was about 9 and I was playing Pole Position with a group of girls (I was always obsessed with driving games--Turbo was my favorite) and I started going on and on about the choosing of a track. Like you could pick from four or five different ones and the terrain would be different in each and some had lines in the road and others didn't, etc. and I was getting way too into the subtle nuances of each option and my (on again off again) best friend looked at me in a "shut the fuck up" manner, which snapped me back into reality. I couldn't help it. I still can't. I thought this was interesting: There is this girl Fawn who does comics and stuff and I knew her zine-wise, but not in person and she lived in Portland, but we never got together because I was moving to N.Y. and she was going to Berkeley and then she ended up living with my oldest penpal in the world, Seth. He just moved back to AZ and just recently said that Fawn was moving to Brooklyn and that I'd be likely to run into her. I thought this was funny because, well, Brooklyn is huge. Then fri. night my friend Jane says that some new people just moved into her building and this would be Fawn and mentioned something about how I was supposed to get together with her in Portland. I'm still not clear on how she would make a connection between Fawn and myself while simply meeting the new neighbors. I guess it's not all that odd since there seems to be this big Portland/Berkeley/Williamsburg pipeline. Who knows.
3/7/00
I think I'm going through some weird changes. I've been feeling catatonic and spastic at the same time, and worst of all, I just caught myself chuckling at "Third Rock From the Sun." Wouldn't you think that those crazy aliens would be adjusted to earth living by now?! Next thing you know, I'll start getting the urge to watch "Millennium Man" or "Patch Adams" (it was on the other night and thank god, I averted my eyes). Maybe I'm antsy because spring is in the air. Normally, I like that riled up, excited, change of season energy, but it's seeming to bring out the scary freaks (as opposed to the good freaks). During my commute this morning I encountered four creepy people, which seems like a lot, especially in the light of day. You know you're in trouble when you see the subway pulling up and one of the cars is completely empty on one side except for one lone person. This was the car I chose to get on. I was greeted with the foulest smell ever. I'm not even particular about smells. I don't usually notice unpleasant odors, but this was out of control. In Portland I was on a bus with a guy who was shitting his pants (I wasn't with him with him, he was just nearby) and I could deal. Not too long ago, the "L Lady" who's always doing her panhandling schtick on the L (duh) had gangrene with a stream of putrid-smelling fluid pouring from her towel-clad feet and I could stomach that (barely). But this guy today was causing my insides to hurt and I was having trouble controlling my gag relfex. Not good. I don't even know what the smell was. It wasn't feces or urine, or vomit, or sweat. It was something of the rancid, rotting, infected body cavity variety. Do you know what's even harder to deal with than smelly strangers? People who say libary. It's inexcusable and I've known this for years. In third grade I corrected the new kid (and he was like the only black kid in the school so people were sort of nicer to him, but I didn't care because I was a know-it-all teacher's pet. He became very popular and was well-known up through high school. I became a surly semi-outcast that no one thought twice about. One can only wonder if things would've been different if I'd only bitten my tongue 19 years ago) for saying libary and he punched me so hard my eyes teared up. I gave my five day notice yesterday and the dean said he wanted a letter and I really wanted to take a piece of wide-ruled paper ripped out of spiral notebook and scrawl with a pencil in shaky all caps: DEAR LIBARY, I QUIT and tape it to the outside of his door. That's probably not all that funny to anyone, but it makes me chuckle and that's what counts. I also wanted to sign it: THANKS FOR THE MOMENT, which once again means almost nothing to anyone, but cracks me up. I was reading the resumes and cover letters for a clerk job they were trying to fill and that's how one guy signed off. I think they should've given him the job (who cares that he had no library skills or experience). Thanking someone for the moment is very thoughtful. And do you know who they're hiring? Someone who said LIBARY during the interview. Really.
3/4/00
I love it when things twist and turn and come back around in weird ways. I never thought that my stint at AmericanBaby.com would ever cause any goodness in my life. I worked there from nov '98 to may '99. Those six months were quite possibly the most tormented spell I've ever experienced. Not because of the job exactly (though it didn't help), it was just a really unpleasant stretch of time. Now that I think about it, the nine months since haven't been what I'd call ideal either, but at least there's been some bright spots. So, I've finally managed to land a job that I'm really keen on. It was crazy, I emailed my resume on Valentine's Day and got a call back within a couple hours. And the reason they called was because they noticed that I'd worked at AmericanBaby.com and knew the editor I'd assisted. Who would've known that that little job would ever pay off in the long run. Slow and steady wins the race--isn't that one of the grossest sayings ever? Yes, so now I'll be joining the hideous dot-com world just like everyone else in N.Y. Maybe I'll buy a cell phone. Maybe I'll buy a pair of leather pants. So many possibilities. At least I'm not working in the entertainment industry. The website is AtTable.com and will launch next month. It's a culinary site that will be a competitor of Epicurious.com, which I'm obsessed with looking at all the time. I'm very into cooking, food culture, restaurants, and the like, so this should be very cool. The scariest part is giving my notice at work on Monday. I'm only giving them one week, which I guess is bad form, but I really don't care. I've been wanting to have it out with coworkers for like the past six months so the next week could prove to be very interesting. God, it seems that everything I've written here lately is just all choppy and boring as hell. I don't know what's going on. I've been in the weirdest limbo lull for a while now. Like I'm waiting for something amazing to happen. This makes me nervous because whenever things get smooth I get bored and do something stupid to fuck it all up. I don't know that I've ever had a good job and nice relationship going at the same time (or separately, for that matter). It doesn't seem right. I have the feeling that I'm going to start sabotaging the relationship for no good reason. I could sense mean semi-irrational thoughts welling up in me this morning and I had to bite my tongue. Dating a workaholic mama's boy can be trouble. And the demented thing is that I realized what today is--the six month anniversary with the (ex) stalkee. It doesn't seem humanly possible. I think I will keep my big mouth at bay by worrying and complaining about another unpleasant aspect of my life. That would be my living situation. Yes, if I put a lot of energy into hating my apartment and neighborhood and my impending two hours a day commute, everything will be great.
3/1/00
I'm such a sucker for gimmicks. I was noticing the other day how those Skittles commercials are really nuts. The one I'm thinking about is black and white and has all these Oliver Twist type kids in a grim city setting and then they "taste the rainbow" and Skittles fall out of the sky. I guess that doesn't sound so nuts, but the style is off kilter and it sort of makes me ill and at the same time fascinates me. I think there was one a while back with unicorns and maidens or something. I know I shouldn't like them, but I do. The website is even nuttier. If you have the inclination and idle time that I do (at work) you might want to check it out because it's this treasure theme and when and if you get to the end, the epilogue is extremely detailed and demented and I got caught up in it for a bit too long yesterday. When I'm antsy and aimless I get way too into products and advertising schemes. Like yesterday I got excited about a new nail polish at K Mart. Last year I was very into the Maybelline "matte finish." It's cool and flat and dull like car primer. Now they have this "suede finish" which is rough like fine sandpaper. I'm not really sure why this would be appealling to people. It seems sort of wrong. Part of me feels like I imagined I saw this and it doesn't really exist at all. Since I spend a lot of time reading magazines at work, I'm usually up on all the crappy trends (not that I follow them, mind you), but this is one I've yet to hear of. The most extravagant, gimmicky thing I've seen lately was in this Prada catalog that comes with the "Vogue Italia." It was a made-to-order, fur-lined sleeping bag--a steal at only $15,000. It is a good thing I am poor or else my house would be filled with all sorts of unneccessary shit.