But the other day, it became pretty unbearable and I got tired of hobbling along, so I used my 4-day old insurance we heart The Freelancer's Union! I was hoping for a nice sturdy insert and some painkillers, but instead I got a soft cast and next week I go back for the real way. Yay me? I guess I'm gonna get my money's worth out of these months of insurance I just paid for.
And amazingly, I woke up this morning finally not in pain for first time since I don't even remember. So, it's heading towards all good. The drawbacks are: 1 strangely, a bandaged foot is a prime target for stepping on. Goddamned jerks. I just end up with funny looks really.
Ah well. Hard to dance in a cast and boot. I think my couch and I will develop a very special relationship. In other life, this job transition is very nerve-wracking for me. I really liked the place I left today. Not only because it was a great port after feeling so adrift back in the spring and helped me gain a lot of confidence and pride in my abilities, but the people were awesome and taught me a lot and working for one of the motherships even as a lowly freelancer does have its advantages.
Now, I'm transitioning across town and it's like Monday is my first day of school. I'm sure it'll turn out great, but it's very overwhelming at the moment. Oui was unearthed when I was randomly browsing through CDs. I've been thinking a lot about random school times since my brand new Facebook obsession is putting me in touch with randoms I haven't seen in years and the reunion is looming.
Five years! I was musing the other day that the current class going in there is Class of and I'll be 30 when they graduate. Then I thought how my brother will graduate high school in and I decided to stop playing that game. I need to learn how to live in the present more. Most of the summer I've been looking in the rearview or getting ahead of myself. My blog has been stuck in breakdown limbo the past week and change. It figures that I don't actually have the urge to write until it was all fucked up. Hopefully everything's back to normal now. Here's a post that's been waiting impatiently for primetime:.
A few months back, I went to the!!! Actually, terrible is too nice of a word for their level of suckiness. It was a painful experience that I will always come to when I think of worst performances I've ever seen up there with M. This group was basically made up of chicks dressed like Stephanie Tanner -- complete with side ponytails -- and their music was utter garbage.
Listless atonal clamor with hipster posturing. No fucking thanks. So imagine my surprise when I got my weekly podcast download and song 2 sounded strangely familiar except, like, decent. I did some internets research and it was that same shit band shined into diamonds with a fucking good remix. And I've been listening to it all week…willingly! I hear there's a blizzard forecast in hell…. September is a good music month. On my radar, the free Battles show Friday August 31st but close enough at the Seaport I even have the day off so I can avoid the working until shit late and missing the show predicament I usually find myself in trying to see something there.
ETA : Went! And it ruled. It's fairly typical for me that I'm planning days to stay up late when I'm starting a new job in a couple of weeks. I'm moving from midtown to…midtown. Actually only going across town to the West Side where the food is at least 10x better. A girl can only eat so many sandwiches for lunch, Now I can eat hot food from the supermarket!
I'm a terrible slacker, I know. My summer output has been pretty anemic. Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa. The highlight of the summer was the Daft Punk show at Keyspan. Trendvickster and I checked that out together. My souvenirs besides an obsession I couldn't quench until I found a bootleg recording of the whole damned show and a desire to go to Vegas for that festival around Halloween were pretty shitty photos and vids via my terrible cameraphone and some glowsticks that are looking pretty pathetic two weeks later. And I survived a forty minute wait on line at Nathan's and came out with a wine cooler in a big cup and some delicious mutant frog legs.
It was fun jumping around at the show and being a part of the big roar of the crowd. My only nitpicks were the shafting of Face To Face and how irritated I was by the sound of Harder, Better, Faster, Song the third and possibly not the last time it got mixed in with some other song. But, that stands as 1 on my show of the year list so far. Besides that, I've been chillin. This summer has been all about the lazy routine. Sunday evenings, one of my more recent neighbor friends and I meet for drinks, takeout, and Battlestar Galactica.
Tuesdays after work, I splash around in the pool at the Y doing Aquacize. I've been making random pilgrimages to my new fave non-local local bar. Last Thursday, I was propped at the bar, wincing at a terrible sketch on that incredibly unfunny show on Comedy Central cookie to you if you can take a wild guess on what show it was and got into a conversation with this random next to me about the horribleness.
Which led to talking about politics, work, travel, love, life, and all those things. And it felt nice in the way it can when you feel like you've beat the odds and actually made a connection in the most random of ways. But, I saw him off with a "have a nice night" and "maybe we'll see each other again.
My new fave commercial. I think the bemused British chuckle does it for me And damn, he sure is blond. It looks pretty dope if I must say so myself. Ask me off-site if you're remotely curious about the link. While I've been mucking through it, me being me, it's not like I totally stayed at home I might still be a little burned out from the out and about every night of the week thing from a month or so ago.
I'm old and tired, I can't roll that much anymore. The other weekend kicked off early Friday evening when I rolled from work Summer Fridays never seem to work out as planned lately TrendVickster came along and we chatted and drank and oohed and ahhed the company head's brand spanking new iPhone. He tried to front like he was nonchalant while fumbling through the controls and the whole spectacle got a meh. TV and I split a slice of cake what a nutritious dinner! It might be the Brooklyn girl in me but I don't get why Bushwick is hip. I hear the name and I think nowhere worth going.
Williamsburg is vaguely understandable being that it's super convenient from Manhattan, but Bushwick is just out there and it really hasn't changed much over the years. I got off the train at Morgan to find this place and turned a corner to feel like I was in a horror movie.
With time short and negotiations so contentious, the only plausible transition after March will be prolonging the status quo, not doing a bespoke new deal. Now, now, that is a sacred healing temple, build by rich white people on Native American land. I can't locate my copy, but that's almost a quote from the entry at contact. TiVo'd: To pause live TV for later playback. I spent the entire morning tippering rap albums for a Virgin Megastore. So the grand experiment is already good for something.
One where the zombies come out from the empty lots and seemingly abandoned warehouse buildings to drag a poor unsuspecting girl in the wrong place at the wrong time away to feast on her brains. And then I walk down the street to see something or another filming and this converted factory building with a gourmet supermarket and cafe and little hipsters hanging out on the bench in front. And I walk another block and it's back to zombieland, with the faint sound of techno coming from a roof. I hobble my way up the stairs and the joint is packed with hipsters from god knows where, most looking fresh off the road from Bumblefuck, USA and some real neighborhood kids amusing themselves.
I was feeling antisocial and wandered across the street to this random bar that I'm a little in love with now. I chilled with the bartender and randoms watching Saturday Night Fever one of those movies that you realize is super fucked up when you actually really pay attention to it on DVD. I went back to the roof to satisfy my thrill oh so dirty sexy pretty! Back at the bar, I ended up in this overlong conversation about work and the crazy admark industry and I kinda felt like a very fulfilled nerd.
And then called a cab to drag my drunk ass home to my doorstep. Saturday's vague highlights was marvelling at party locations nowadays. I'm just waiting for someone else to do a laundry party at this point. This one was in some random ass loft next to a gas station and I saw Abe and other folks I know. I had a spazzy moment with my current fave DJ from the party that I'm becoming diehard about where I told her how much I loved her podcasts mixes on the bathroom line.
Last Friday got me back to My knee hurt, so I perched myself on the back bar stool and was content to sip on something and people watch. But, noooo First dude slid across within 5 minutes and he had sub-game and I was beyond monosyllabic and after some uncomfortable minutes, he finally went away. This other dude rolled in all fake thug in a hipster party and sideglanced me for a while.
He was easy on the eyes and I may have noncommittally looked back once or twice. I totally gasped and him booking it was the only thing that didn't have me getting up and hurting him, lame knee be damned. Who the fuck seriously does that? Jesus Christ. It's bad enough that being by yourself in the midst of people and stuff means you have to get damned every bullshit pass in the place, but the ass slap is beyond disrespectful. I was fuming. I even broadcasted it to my dodgeball list in fact. I was bitching about it later on to this random who amusingly looked on when guy 1 and the slapper tried one after another to kick it to me again upstairs on the patio.
The slapper was really close to getting a drink thrown in his face he doesn't know about me I'll do it when he was mewing that I'd gotten my own drink instead of letting him get it. Fucking lamer. He was pretty beat later on when I was chatting up the random too. So strange that ass slapping isn't much of deal sealer.
In the best of circumstances, I'm admittedly difficult to meet at a party. I loathe being hit on. If you try, you're deaded. In fact, you probably just wasted your time bothering with the walk over because I'm not trying to hear it. Where the random vaguely succeeded where the other two failed though the slapper torpedoed his own chances was that I'd given him "can you believe this crap? In a nutshell, I might minorly be a control freak and I hate feeling like a piece of meat. Not that I like doing all the work, but I don't respond well to the "you're my prey and I'm pouncing" methodology.
YMMV I suppose. There's not much I don't love about the summer. Away with the sweaters and coats, on with the lightweight clothes and flip flops. It's mostly all good as far as I'm concerned. I spent most of the spring hustling for work and all that related stuff, so now I'm trying to reap the rewards and have some fun. And how do I do that exactly? I've been out every night since Tuesday, after a Sunday and Monday of rest after a bit of a wild weekend.
That night I went to and stood in the corner of the patio drinking overpriced drinks until I made an escape to Brooklyn to see an awesome show by the Yohimbe Brothers at Zebulon. That's one of those venues that I'm always amazed that I don't spend just about all my time at. I've seen some kickass performances just stumbling in there randomly.
Wednesday was going to Soundfix to catch The Sea and Cake's in-store and getting annoyed at the crowd and the shitty opening band who just droned on and on same problem at the Webster Hall show except their set might have been 3x as long. At the store, most of the people left when that band finally released the stage which was incredible to me. Oh the power of indie hype. Both nights, TSAC ripped it. I've got a major soft spot for them. I was theorizing Thursday night that they all look like teachers I wish I would've had in high school. Sam is English, John's Calc, Eric is Drama, and Archer is the science teacher I would've spent a lot of time thinking inappropriately about.
I have to get around to checking out the new album. Friends of friends I randomly came across in the audience Thursday said it ranks high up there with the older stuff. I was happy to hear Mr F, Parasol, and some others I've forgotten between now and then. Good times x2. I got the fun experience of the bartender remembering my drink on the first pass, so every time after that she was like "another gin and tonic? If you had to endure 45 minutes of that middle band, it'd drive you to drink too. Also Wednesday, I went down to Dumbo at this newish venue, a coffee shop that apparently turns into a big event space nightly now.
The show was old school latin soul and it was a good time. The thorn in my side is this guy I keep seeing around. I used to have a bit of a crush on him and go out of my way a bit to set up the opportunities to interact with him, but now he just annoys me. His general reaction is to just look at me as if I'm supposed to run up and give the full court press. I don't even care enough anymore. He's not all that. There's just something about him that doesn't make me want to try. I take that as a bad sign. Well, I did and she was along for the ride. As I'm getting older, I'm starting to finally distinguish between the good and bad for me liquors.
The borderline out of control episodes of the not so recent past: fueled by rum. A good indication that the night is going to end with something rather inappropriate though pretty fun : scotch. Left to my own devices, I chatted with former associates through my old job and confessed my slight crush on one of their coworkers to more than one person; played a lot of pinball; would have some pretty scandalous photos if the photo booth wasn't busted; and was part of traumatizing some random who just wanted to go to the bathroom.
All before 1am. And it's not even the first time I've misbehaved in that space, despite the name change. I think I might have to avoid that spot for a while. Good thing I've never claimed to be especially angelic. Saturday night had me at Studio B, mostly leaning and watching instead of dancing like I wanted because of a hurt foot. The funny thing about going out frequently again is that I see people I know a lot more often.
Which can go either way in terms of bad or good. In Flagranti and G. Rizo were great, but I was pretty disappointed in Mr. Fun night regardless. A moment of silence for Helga, my formerly indestructible HP that conked out on me. I had it about two months shy of 8 years, so I can't be mad and getting above and beyond my money's worth of it. I've been saving up for a shiny laptop for while and today I bought another HP tower that I'll pass along to my mom once I get my piggy bank ready for the laptop buy.
Luckily, I've been slowly migrating my info to my external hard drive for a few months now, so no big info loss. I'm still vaguely confident that I can transfer settings, but it remains to be seen. That poor computer survived 8 years of moves, dust, good writing, bad writing, many IM conversations, angry emails, overlong blog posts, music downloads, and days and nights of overwork. The new computer clean slate feeling is kinda interesting. I don't mind really. Change is a very good thing. The other week found me venturing into Midtown on a Saturday night. Very strange since the last thing I do when I leave it on Friday evening is clamor for more.
I was off to check out this new to me band that I'd been digging for more info about. The show was in this art gallery, hidden in the shadows of office buildings and delis and theater row. The space was transformed into a maze with sculpture and writings decorating the walls. I wandered in, looking for the music that was promised to be at the end.
I saw a band, not the one I was there looking for, sitting around and taking apart equipment. I looked at them, they looked at me, and wandered away. I came across this guy, looking like an antsy hipster complete with the shaggy hair, hoodie, and classic sneaks shelltoes in this instance , and we struck up a stilted conversation as I asked where the refreshments were hiding. Our chatting would reoccur as the night passed. The place was on the miniature side. Three turns and you were either out the door or back where you started.
I tried to wait patiently for everything the set to start, the drink girl to replenish the supply, a lightning bolt to hit this girl who started some story with "not that I'm a racist, but That guy was from SC visiting for the week and one pass we talked about the upstate region and its little cities and towns.
I felt a twang slip out and I missed my old summer trips for the quickest of seconds. And then the band played, mostly acoustic with the music going low as the mike-less singer sang. I was mesmerized by the bass, all strings and neck. I stood in the corner on a bucket and tried to keep my balance and take a pic or two with my shitty camera phone. Almost at the end, there was competing noise from a sax player and drummer playing out front on the street. They wrapped up quick and suddenly and everyone ventured outside.
The discordant noise brought down a tourist to complain about her lack of sleep. She walked about and fumed helplessly and everyone watched the showdown between her and the saxophonist amused. I used the lull to stroll off the next destination. There were no more fireworks to be had there that night. I had a choice of parties to go to with one big possible drawback to them all.
I was playing the shell game and trying not to be where The Boy could end up. But true to form, I paid my money and bought my first drink and looked to my left to see his friend and then him sitting there. Figures really. I kept to myself and this random I knew from the neighborhood where I used to work and he hovered around like the mosquito you can't quite kill and finally just ghost.
I coped with the Long Island Iced Tea special and chugging to calm my nerves. Too bad my stomach wasn't so happy as time went on. I spent the next day at home lounging like Sheba and considered how fun it would be to live somewhere where my past wasn't always been thrown in my face. Tuesday, I attempted to see a show by the old faves, but fatigue and the noxious crowd turned me back. Instead I went to the 2nd show of the week by Saturday's group.
There again was that guy from SC.
We had another strange conversation and he confessed that he was at the show for lack of a better option and stir crazy. I gave my condolences on that and perched myself by the bar hoping for a good watching angle. It was a good show again and I was happy that I got it together to see them. That guy had disappeared before the show was over. I hope he had a good trip.
I'm annoyed. A quick aside, I often think how fun it would be to have some Movable Type hack — yes, I am a blog nerd, And what? And then I think, well first of all, my mood would usually be annoyed, so it'd just be redundant. And also, I can save that for my real LJ where I can go on and on and on in private and non-cryptically. So, this is a dumb aside basically. My prerogative. It's a shame I'm salty because things are really not bad. New to me — or even, memory jogging — music is always good in my book. Hours and hours of fun that is.
The weather is nice, really nice. I had a good weekend split between much needed rest and reconnecting with folks. Brunch and a nice stroll through the nabe even fit in there. I saw a fun show by Kenna last week at the new Luna Lounge and had the loveliness that is an Iona cider. I ran into one of the few Wes kids who it isn't that painful to see and I had a funny text convo with Justin when I got fooled by hisdoppelganger. I'm so out of the loop with what the kids are listening to nowadays.
Anyway, I think it's just one of those states where the good is awesome and the bad fucking pisses me off. The problem if it can even be called that stems from being a little too focused right now. I had myself on overdrive and did what I had to do, so now it's like I'm in that mode and I don't know if it's worth it to slip out. I feel like my game has been elevated and now I don't want to go back. Still, I know there's a significant amount of fun missing.
I just feel stiff or something. I guess that's to be expected. It's been a big two months for me. So, I'm just a bit restless and impatient. I don't have it in me to wait around and hope I make square pegs fit in round holes. I'm tired of settling and being jerked around. That's how I spent most of the past three years at the wrong jobs and being with the wrong people and spending too much time feeling bad. I'm not exactly sure what I want, just that Ihaven't found it yet.
Clear as mud, eh? Going to midtown every work day and looking like an adult instead of a college kid in limbo is an interesting experiment. I nipped in the bud -- rewind, I crushed with my best stiletto heel -- the pseudofriendship thing the boy was trying to push for. Just thinking about having to talk to him again was making me crazy. It was like a rewind to all the shit I thought I worked through in all these months. Some wounds get infected when you pick at it. Proving that we're both mature and responsible people, I told him that I wanted him to go crawl back under the rock he was hiding under for the past six months with some cold East New York flavor I didn't know I had lurking in there and he crank called me like a bitch the past Friday night.
We're both obviously winners. But who cares! It's really truly spring, so I'm happy. I've been pretty much a homebody during the week again.
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I've got to get up damned early for me with the added bonus of not going only 15 minutes away anymore. Not that it's stopping me from staying up too late as usual, but it's hard for me to get motivated out before the weekend. Last Friday was a marathon day for me. Red was there with friends and I said hi for a bit then went back to my table.
Faiks came in for a long overdue hangout session and we grabbed dinner. She turned into a pumpkin and then it was Red and I drinking and trying to rally Next day was Chinese delivery and watching Donnie Darko. Chill fun. I've kinda missed just aimlessly hanging out with someone cool a la Fizzie. Getting into trouble sometimes, but mostly bullshitting and chatting about real stuff. Low maintenance and non-dramatic is nice at this point.
I'm still sorting a lot things out, so a distraction is good. The most exciting things from Sunday were: 1 A really good energizing ride around the park. I took these interiors roads for once and that was cool. I also need to ride more because my stamina sucks. That was actually really cute. Another reason why life is all good as far as I'm concerned: Can't wait! This past week, I've just been trying to keep my equilibrium going. I'm one of those people that need a neutral balance or else I'm going to fall into the hole.
Last Thursday was a pretty shitty day, for instance. I got beyond drenched out in the rain, had some very not so good interviews, found out my insurance was cut off, and just felt super alone and loserish and overwhelmed most of that day. That great mood carried on to early Friday when I tried my best to just stay under the covers and cry before I got the call about some more interviews and then had some drinks and tried to perk myself up. I ended up at a big party at 3rd Ward that night. I was determined to enjoy myself and succeeded. There was an annoying interlude with this random who latched onto me early and wouldn't leave me alone.
He was too old, marginally funny, looked like a lost member of X-Clan well, not that there's anything wrong with that part , and had this really irritating habit of singing in my ear. I had to break out some stealth moves to finally shake him. Good thing about huge warehouse parties is you can go hours withough running into a person again. I ran into Benny and Tim and ended up talking with Benny about their group and an upcoming show. He said that they were looking for singers to do background stuff and I strange for me volunteered. Er, haven't done more than entertain my cat in four years.
That's going to be an adventure. And then I wandered around and around for hours before escaping at 8am into the insanely bright sun. It's always tough strolling in somewhere in the dead of the night and finally accepting that it's daytime and you need to go home. We party hard. I made a new friend Sunday and I shall call him Red for obvious real life reasons. We went to Floyd's and didn't play bocce which is almost blasphemous and then to see Disturbia.
Which made me really hot for Shia LaBeouf , until I found out that's he's not even I'm sure I'll change my tune in 5 years or so. Last night was another Battles show. Most of my time was spent wishing bodily harm on this group of jerks who decided that no matter what the song, a mosh pit was needed. The boy came over at the end all "you're here, cool, I was going to text you to see if you knew about it, but here you are. He should make himself useful and get me a damned Battles bag. I've talked so much about it this week that the crazed need is awakened.
This week was kinda tough. I've been worrying a lot about the job situation, natch. The "so stressed that I'm despairing" diet works wonders. But I've been working my ass off the past couple of weeks and it paid off with mad interviews and finally today, a new job. And I even have nothing but goodwill today at least towards my old boss for forcing me onto the market to make a living wage.
Yay for me! I still haven't learned how to relax and accept that being home during the day -- at least compared to never seeing the light hit this place except for on my way out in the morning -- kinda rules. The streets around here are interesting. It's fun being able to zip around so fast with hardly anyone in the lines and stuff. I almost feel like I have to retrain myself to stroll along leisurely and not let the four walls close in on me. I haven't been doing park stuff like I should, but exercise DVDs are my new guilty pleasure.
Man, if I stay home another week or two, I'm going to be super buff. The weekend was actually a strangely good one. It was like heaven. They also had a gang of menus so we could order in stuff wings and nachos, yum. It was just a fun kinda cheap night shooting the shit with randoms which is always good. We made a detour to visit Justin spinning at before going home and passing out.
Imagine my surprise Saturday morning to get a query about brunch from the boy of all people. That was some interesting timing. Curiosity got the better of me and I agreed, which turned into a seven hour adventure of chatting and wandering around the nabe. I made it to a First Saturday for the second time in over two years.
It was a little awkward for me, but we got along. I'm still on the fence. I tried to hang with the ex-coworkers for a bit that night, but awkward feelings sent me running across Williamsburg to this other party the boy had told me about. I indifferently watched him with his new flavor of the night and lost myself dancing and trying to melt in the little room everyone was crammed in. I went home alone, feeling good, and got up earlyish the next day to plow through my room. Three days later, it's still going. I spent Easter with Alafairnadia and friends drinking bubbly and eating good food.
The boy kinda wants to be bffs or something and I'm going to decline to overthink something for once and just go with it until it becomes a bad situation. Knowing him, it won't take long. I might still hate him a little bit under the shiny surface. Still, we saw Grindhouse oh man, it rules! But everyone rushed for the bathroom when it was over.
You really have like a 2-second potty window in between the movies. And he even inspired me to reconnect with Farmer. So the grand experiment is already good for something. Monk - Bon Bon Vie. That's my new favorite song. I've known it for years, but while I was browsing the goods I couldn't bring myself to drop tons of cash on in the Adidas store in Miami, the DJ put it on and I cornered him to get the name.
I came back to NY and Soulseek wasn't being helpful and Bill thankfully gave it to me. It's such a strange song, very upbeat music with some really depressing ass lyrics. It fits what I'm going through right now. I'm going through a really bad time and I can't write cute around it. I just feel lately like every good thing that happens to me has some swift negative counter and it's bringing me down.
A highlight was making a friend at the Robert Owens show and geeking over the artist behind Strings of Life. Yay house and techno! My doctor was harassing me while I was down there and I made an appointment with her for the Friday after I got back. I started seeing her over some random phantom pain in my knee that had been bothering me for a while.
She did a complete physical I'm fat and weigh a lot more than I used to, no shit and took a heap of blood and got the results while I was away. It turns out that my joints are fucked and I have an appointment with a specialist to see if it's a bad disease or a worse one. Um yay? ETA : It's the mild version of bad. In case you were sitting on the edge of your seat or something. Funny thing about Friday, I also got laid off that day. I was having a hellish week back at work and totally swamped with work.
My boss walked up to me at all "can I talk to you for a second? Yet she was insistent and I went to find out to my surprise that I was out of a job. I don't even know how I felt. I was pretty relieved yet also frightened since being out of a job when you might potentially be really sick is no good. My work friends rallyed for me at the local bar and that was nice. Despite my evil boss and being overworked and grossly underpaid, I liked my job and most of the people there.
It makes me sad to have that suddenly taken away from me, but I'm not really worried about landing on my feet. It's weird being home during the day. I've working more or less straight for the past 10 years, so I almost don't know what do with myself without a job, even if part of me just wants to fucking relax and write like I never have time for and collect unemployment for a minute. Instead, I've been applying and doing interviews and thinking about where to apply.
I don't think I know how to relax sometimes. The show sold out last week over the weekend? I dunno , something I didn't discover until I checked online to get the box office address to go buy a ticket. I made new friend off Craig's List off the strictly platonic section, pervs and got to go.
Thanks again, E! I've heard a lot about Soft Circle , but never heard the music until yesterday. It was pretty rad, one man band drumming with droning vocals and electronics. Last year in Miami, he DJed this party I went to and dude's an experience. He's like a mixtape come to life or something. It's half entertaining, half annoying. Battles was great also, but by the time they took the stage, I was already over the edge of drunkenness with no return.
A fun result of that: I ran out of cash in my pocket, so I used to my credit card to buy a drink I didn't need. And to kill the tab, I bought drinks for Prefuse, Beans, and some of their friends. How random. As I vaguely feared, I ran into the boy at the show. He rolled up on me when I was chatting with E before the show started and I eyed the drink in his hand really warily.
He said that he read the email actually MySpace message that I had sent him, but he'd been busy and hadn't had time to respond whatever, fuck him. I didn't really say anything in return and for once in his life, he took a hint at the awkwardness and went away. I ran into his friend the one I've seen at Sputnik a few times and have a pretty good relationship with considering and told him about the job situation, so when I ran into the boy again later, he said: "sorry to hear about your job, but you're one of the most resourceful people I know, so I'm sure it'll work out for you.
We had a nice conversation which was strange and I said as much. He invited me over to hang out with him and his friends and I didn't. I feel good about the whole thing though. I wanted a nice postscript to the whole thing and now I have it. I'd rather look forward to something new than keep looking back. The end of the show is a drunken blur. Somehow somewhere I fell and hurt my elbow and sorta broke my phone thank god for cell insurance! I cabbed it home and woke up in bed fully clothed. I've spent most of the day convinced that I lost my phone and was inconsolably hysterical for hours missed two phone interviews also At least it's here.
Sometimes shit just works out I've finally succumbed to the plague that's felled everyone else in my office. After a slight bout with the chills yesterday, I'm left with the hacking cough. Or else I'm gonna be that annoying passenger that everyone hates since the canned air will make the hack worse. PrincessNella's gonna love me for that. In honor of what I was talking about last post letting shit be water under the bridge and all that , I sent a really nice note to the boy. Basically saying that I wish him the best in his life I don't actually expect a reply.
It was just for brain dump's sake. That was my good deed for the month. Back to regularly scheduled piss and vinegar. In the life can never be simple files, I swear NYC has only people in it tops. No matter what the census says. This guy I think I could like if he wasn't so shiny and kinda accomplished in his way and so high profile and put together with really nice hair and I wasn't in this weird phase where I'm shy and feel like flying under the radar and being a little self-hating and I apparently overlap on every circle. If not him, someone that's about half a degree away from him. The whole thing makes me want to run and hide.
He sees me, I see him, no one's ever going to do anything about it. I get the distinct impression that I'm not the type of girl he would like. I'm too I might have done some minor net detective work damn, it's easy , but I can't put in the effort to really mount a chase. My post-trip life is focused on whipping the body into shape in time for Tino's hippie wedding to avoid total mortification. I'm a little over the phase where I run headfirst into rejection. So sick of that view. Miami in 4 days! I've been on a bury the hatchet letter writing kick lately.
As they say, those who anger you control you. Not all have been sent. Maybe I should burn what I've written to fully complete the dippy new age sentiment. I don't even think at the end of the day I expect a response to the ones I have sent. They're more of a symbolic door closer to some prickly memories.
Now, let me go burn some incense and meditate on that. My mp3 player is a thorn in my side at the moment. A few months ago, the headphone jack cut out and I shelved it out of frustration. I did some Googling and found a place in the city that would fix the audio thing, but now I've got a new problem: another defect is that the battery told discharges itself when it's underused, so now it's too dead to be revived.
At least without opening the whole thing up and giving it a shock or some sort of shit I read about on the internet that would having me with a burned broken player if i tried it. So now my best hope is to take it to that repair shop and hope the bastards don't try to sucker me into getting a new battery. The best laid plans, I tell you. I would say that I feel old, but I've felt that way for about 10 years now.
I'm still cute, but rounder than I'd like to be. I could make more money and try to keep my room clean, but really I can't complain. I'm trying to be kinda zen this year. You can't make people do what you want, but you can also not succumb to the brief satisfaction of kicking their ass I had vaguely designated some prospects and they're not panning out. Granted, my non-movement attention span is about a week.
I've spoken to one a grand total of twice and the other has been in a holding pattern for months, though I recently learned that he can at least be funny. I wondered for a while there. Honestly, I'm just trying to focus on the trip to Miami next week. My first vacation after a crazy stressful year. I've been having nightmares about that all week. The birthday day was spent at the churrascaria in the company of an assorted group of friends from a couple of months to 13 years and Ms. Mommy and J. We all ate ourselves stupid for the first bit and then spent the rest of the time praying they'd stop coming around with the meat.
I was embarassed yet secretly pleased by the balloons and the neverending sparkler on my cake and it was a good time. Though I wasn't able to eat again until almost 20 hours later. Birthday in less than 17 days! Despite my love of the countdown, this year feels like a non-event for me. I'm marginally amused that I'm not doing much to uncomplicate my life, despite a nice little run of quiet I had there.
Of all the boys in NYC that I could have a a crush on and b want me for Extracting myself from that situation with no one but me and you, my delightful non-them readers knowing about it is going to be interesting. Good thing I was playing Girl Scout for a while there because it'll be a lot easier since nothing's gone on all around. I don't really want to bother with either of them. A girl would like to be surprised and swept off her feet for a change.
That's not happening with either of them. In many ways, I'm pretty much mentally checked out of the city. As it stands, I'm either finding something new to do that's awesome and well-paying or staying where I'm at working up towards a move in the spring. But I'm starting to downplay that since the idea is making almost everyone I know foam at the mouth. To answer the inevitable "why?! It might be millions strong, but it seems like my little hometown more times than not and I'm at a place where I'd rather miss it.
It's starting to feel clastrophobic. Either everything I remember comes rushing back when I go certain places or I end up feeling down because so much has changed. And there's the constant turning a corner and seeing a HS or college person, a failed date, a former coworker, some random I met once at 2am in a backroom. I want to go where I don't have such a layered history. Just for a little while. And if I hate it, the city will always take me back.
I guess I wasn't watching VH1 Soul enough when that came out the first time. And I'll admit to a perverse pleasure in singing "no not any more! The trick is getting my shit together to get to one of this month's residency shows. It was bound to happen I guess.
Gotta love the boys who didn't give a shit months ago suddenly having a change of heart. Tough shit, babes. You missed the bus. And we're going to meat heaven this year. The countdown begins. I've been listening to a lot of 90s music. Tis strange. Listening to 90s stuff makes me feel like an angsty kid again. Strange how those songs just bring all the weirdness back. Good thing this was nostaglia week I suppose. I'm kinda upset about work.
I feel like the situation is getting worse and it frustrates me to feel like I'm basically in the same position as last year, except halfway in the poor house because of the paycut. Adulthood blows. PrincessNella and I are masterplanning a trip for March again. The main draw for Miami is lessened a bit this year, so maybe California this time around. I've got a little under six weeks to get my license -- I've decided that since my learner's permit shut up, I grew up three blocks from the subway and they didn't do driver's ed in my Manhattan high school is expiring, I'm going to get a damned license instead of being embarrassed by renewing the fucking thing -- so maybe we can even tool around in a rental.
I promise to avoid crazy LA drivers and fire hydrants. A rather bizarre thing in my world right now is modern technology yes, as all encompassing and vague as that is. I feel like I'm getting more socially inept as I get more connected to things. Recently, I've been friended by these DJs I see a fair amount out and about since I'm on their mailing lists and they play the shit I like to hear and all. And they've been vaguely communicating with me via these technological things and for me it's like "well, now what?
Dilemma, dilemma. In a fit of randomness, I ended up swept back into the Sapph scene tonight. Crazy C and her ragtag bunch of friends.
Being around them makes me amazed at my lack of a drug addiction. The super blast from the past was The Brit and his brother. His brother is a nutter and he's so obsessed with my laugh. He makes me feel self-conscious, especially since he has a totally different picture of what went on with me and The Brit than what did which I'm sure he didn't try to set straight. Speaking of him, we didn't speak at all. It's been a year and a half damned near and we barely know each other anymore at this point.
Menon also found time to co-found Penguin books with Allen Lane. In India became an independent country and Menon its first high commissioner to Britain. The Markers took over management in and have run it ever since. Their contribution to the look of the place? The same shabbiness that makes the India Club appealing is also what renders it ripe for a refit.
Rooms cost half as much as in nearby hotels, the building has no disabled access and its grotty shopfronts stick out on an otherwise glamorous street. Voters dislike nothing more than a party at war with itself. The Tories went to war over the most important problem facing the country—one that is largely of their own making. Boris Johnson, the foreign secretary, ignited the conflict with a lengthy article on Brexit in the Daily Telegraph , a week before Theresa May was due to give a big speech on the same subject in Florence.
What does this soap opera tell us, other than that Britain is ruled by an incestuous clique of frenemies who delight in turning even the most serious issues into melodramas? Mr Johnson challenged her authority on the most fraught issue in British politics at a peculiarly sensitive time but still kept his job.
This does not bode well for negotiations which, if they are to succeed, will require Mrs May to persuade her party to sign off on all sorts of concessions and trade-offs. Today he is reviled by liberals and distrusted by many party loyalists. As mayor, he was frequently hailed as a hero when cycling through the city. Now he is subject to abuse.
The result is an impasse. The leader of the government is too weak to impose her authority; the leader of the hard-Brexit faction of her party is too weak to depose her; and Jeremy Corbyn, the hard-left leader of the Labour Party, gets ever stronger. But it turns out that Mrs May has never engaged in a big cabinet debate to determine the line. Instead she has limited discussion to various subcommittees, from which Mr Johnson was pointedly excluded.
The foreign secretary has highlighted the fissure at the heart of Tory and British politics. Soft Brexiteers such as Philip Hammond, the chancellor, and Ms Rudd favour access over control and a long transition rather than a cliff-edge Brexit. They have the support of most business leaders, who fear disruption more than anything else. They want a relatively short transition—Mr Johnson has suggested six to 12 months. Brexiteers are already hard at work explaining why their glorious idea has failed to bear fruit.
Brexit was implemented by its enemies rather than its friends. Mrs May was too naive to take on EU officials whose only concern was to see Britain humiliated. FEW corners of the internet are more likely to celebrate the news of another royal baby than Mumsnet. But not everyone was happy. Other Mumsnetters agreed, in the strongest of terms.
Such streams of expletives are causing trouble for Mumsnet. Among them were Confused. They are reportedly wary of being associated with increasingly foul-mouthed mothers. Are they right to fret? We looked for instances of the words that Ofcom, the telecoms regulator, deems offensive.
The analysis does not capture every curse. Nevertheless, a clear trend emerges from the number-crunching: swearing is indeed on the rise. Unsurprisingly, nothing gets online mums more riled up than talking about their relationships. By contrast, debates about the book of the month elicit, on the whole, much milder language. A version with all the salty details can be found here. The maker of Cillit Bang cleaning spray, Nurofen painkillers and Durex condoms sells hundreds of brands of household products in over countries. Yet a management shake-up at the firm has highlighted problems which suggest that it—and perhaps other consumer-goods firms—may find it hard to conquer new markets.
Their exit follows a string of disasters for the company over the past year. In April the firm announced that annual sales had fallen for the first time since the company was formed in , a reverse blamed by its chief executive, Rakesh Kapoor, on the failed launch of a waterproof electric device to shave dry skin off feet.
Reckitt sold boring items such as soap powder at premium prices, and kept sales rising through expansion in developing markets. This was a winning formula for investors. Even a year ago its shares were tipped by analysts. Earning most of its profits in foreign currency, it benefited from the depreciation of the pound after the Brexit vote.
But those shares have seen few gains over the past year. More worrying for them is a global change in consumer preferences that is making life harder for international consumer-goods giants. This is happening fast in China, a big growth market for Reckitt over the past decade. According to consumer surveys by BCG, between and Chinese preference for international brands has dropped by a fifth for personal-care products, by a quarter for cosmetics and by half for household products. The rise of budget supermarkets such as Aldi and Lidl, which push their own non-branded goods hard, is accelerating the trend.
Other British consumer-goods companies face similar problems. Unilever, a big conglomerate, has begun to snap up local brands, such as Weiss ice-cream bars in Australia, to maintain market share. His negotiator, Michel Barnier, called on Britain to be more serious. Both sides have points. The EU is right that the British papers lack substance and list options more than solutions. Yet Mr Davis is correct that it is impossible to separate the divorce from longer-term trade. That is especially true of avoiding a border with Ireland, which will depend on a future trade deal. Little progress was made this week, especially on money.
The EU blames domestic politics for stopping the British from being clearer about what they want. Next month she is to deliver a speech on Brexit. If she says the same thing, says one Eurocrat, the talks will be set back by six months. Even British officials say EU leaders often need two bites at tricky questions.
So it is likely to be December before trade negotiations can even start. The consequent shortage of time is putting new emphasis on a transition period after the Article 50 deadline expires in March On this, the latest development has come from the opposition. But it is also a recognition of reality. With time short and negotiations so contentious, the only plausible transition after March will be prolonging the status quo, not doing a bespoke new deal.
It would help with the exit bill, as Britain could go on paying into the EU budget during any transition. It is also possible to detect a pattern here. Mrs May said this week that she wanted to replicate the nascent EU-Japan trade deal and would seek to do the same for those with other countries. Yet the real question may be: are cordial relations ever possible after a bitter divorce? THE relationship between justice and race is fraught. On August 11th Robert Buckland, the solicitor-general, was quoted in the Daily Telegraph newspaper as saying that those convicted in Newcastle earlier this month of abusing women and girls, plying them with alcohol and drugs before forcing them to have sex, should face stiffer penalties because the gang of mostly Asian men had targeted white victims.
The case illustrates the complexity of taking into account the role that racism and other forms of prejudice play in crime. The law in England and Wales does, in fact, allow for harsher penalties if certain types of prejudice are deemed to have been an aggravating factor in a crime. On this basis, whereas those found guilty of common assault can face up to six months in prison, those convicted of racially aggravated assault can end up inside for two years.
Shout a racial slur while inflicting grievous bodily harm and your prison sentence could be seven years; if you merely grunt while pummelling your victim, five years is the maximum. The formal system of aggravated offences sends a strong message denouncing racism, argues Mark Walters, a criminologist at the University of Sussex who specialises in hate crimes. The stigma of being labelled racist is such that he reckons defendants will admit to violence more readily than any kind of racial intolerance. Others are sceptical. Harry Potter, a barrister at 25 Bedford Row Chambers, argues that it should be left to judges to determine whether these kinds of prejudice have influenced crimes and what, if any, impact that should have on sentences.
Juries can be unwilling to convict defendants of the aggravated versions of a crime if they think that the abuse was simply flung in the heat of the moment, rather than representing deep-seated prejudice. But Mr Walters points out that the option of charging people specifically with racially aggravated crimes ensures that police focus on obtaining the necessary evidence to prove such prejudice.
Some argue that more intelligent sentences would be a better response than merely longer ones. Those found guilty of racially aggravated crimes could undergo education or rehabilitation to correct their prejudice, instead of, or in addition to, serving more time inside. Many legal systems around the world now classify hate crimes in some form. But according to Mr Walters, since Britain permits the prosecution of offences where racism has merely been demonstrated, rather than demanding proof that it motivated the crime, many more cases go to court.
Rooting out such prejudice is harder. Squeezed until the pips squeak. Harvesting soft fruit is in full swing; shortly it will be the turn of apples and pears. Seldom has the season been watched so closely, as the agriculture industry has become a bellwether for how British business as a whole is faring as the country negotiates its exit from the European Union.
The soft-fruit business has bloomed over the past 20 years. The production of strawberries, raspberries and other berries has increased from some 60, tonnes a year to over , tonnes, and these are picked almost entirely by migrant workers from the EU. In about 85, seasonal agricultural workers came to Britain, 30, or so of them to pick fruit. As Britain prepares to leave the EU and probably end the free movement of workers from the continent, farmers are scrambling to find farm hands.
There are lessons here for other British businesses, and the government. There is no doubt that farmers are struggling to find workers. But the shortfalls also reflect structural shifts in the EU economy, in particular the rising prosperity, and higher wages, of those countries such as Poland and Romania that have historically supplied workers to Britain. Poland itself now draws in about 1m temporary workers from Ukraine to do any number of jobs, including its own fruit-picking. With or without Brexit, the days when Britain could rely on a steady stream of bright young Romanians to pick fruit, or pack meat, were numbered.
But for now there is unlikely to be a lot of fruit left rotting in the fields. He has managed to get only a handful of Britons out of 12, recruits sent to farms. Money is not the main problem. But most Britons seem not to want to move to where the farms are, nor to take up jobs that only last for the season and involve getting up at 5am to work outdoors.
Robots, on the other hand, are perfectly happy with such conditions, and are getting ever more dexterous at picking hard fruit, if not the squishier sort. Machines to pick strawberries and apples are already in use. But they can make up for that by working 24 hours a day.