I am...a New Yorker

[Previous entry: "Lustng"]

Tuesday, January 8, 2002

Nothng today, but later I'll post some from yesterday, plus ones I forgot from New Year's Eve/Day. Check this entry for the lnk.

I'm drawn to fem boys and rough girls -- what does that say about me?

Chicken and Shrimp Limone at The Olive Garden. It was lighter than cream sauce, but really had a brighter flavor with lemon, tomato and asparagus. My mouth was so happy with all the flavors, but maybe it was just the wne.

Girl clothes. Someone told me I looked nice and I replied, "I feel like I'm n drag." I thought my boss was gong to fall out of his chair.

I'm at the end of the clean laundry, thus I'm down to skirts and tights, nstead of pants and trouser socks. I decided to complete the look with contacts and lipstick.

At the good quality, name brand make up n my Christmas present from the residence. Snce it's a non-profit, they had the make up donated, so it contaned Clnique eye shadow and lipstick, MAC foundation, a couple of nail polishes, $20 Estee Lauder blush (it had a price tag, or I'd never know -- I fnd make-up prices at the drug store apallng, I don't dare look at department stores) and more.

I'm not much of a makeup person, so I gave most of it away to my 17 and 19 year old cousns as part of their Christmas presents, but I kept one deep, blood red lipstick and one of the blushes. In hndsight, it's surprisng that a residence run by a conservative, Christian organization would have us pantng ourselves up like the Whore of Babylon.

A coworker told me recently that my pictures had a sense of humor, irony and the absurd -- I guess that's largely how I see life. There are some very serious bits, but if I didn't have my sense of humor, I wouldn't make it through the day.

Writng and photographng the city n just the short time I've been back, so I'm tryng to do it every night. I really regret I didn't jon Holidailies, but it's the worst time of year to attempt daily writng.

Rememberng the creative person withn, even if it was just for a few mnutes of my day.

They haven't yet defrosted Walt Disney, n all this 100th birthday hoopla.

Why only security guards and cabbies hit on me. It's a metaphysical law, apparently.

I've been starved for ntelligent conversation, what with this beng just a monologue.

That it's after midnight before I even do half of what I set out to accomplish every night after work. I don't know where I thought I was gong to get energy to shoot pool durng the week.

I nearly made it through an entry without mentionng Legolas. I haven't been this fascnated with an actor or movie character snce the hot guy with the facial tattoos n The Mummy Returns.

Up to the roof for a cigarette.

I am...tryng to fnd positive outlets, but it's a temporary response to a problem that isn't gong away. I'm still n a hallway and the only thng that's changed is the construction. Today's nterruptions ncluded:

-a member complanng another member has poor hygene and sores below the waist
-phone calls complanng that no one else n the buildng answers their phones (except me, stupid bastard that I am)
-preparng for one meetng, then switchng to another, then another, then another -- on ever-changng demand
-calls askng where co-workers were everytime they failed to answer the phone
-stopped to clean because my desk is covered with dust from the construction that was gettng on everythng
-"Where does so and so sit?"
-Construction noises so loud I couldn't hear the phone
-Construction worker askng if the noise was botherng me

By 10:30, I already felt pnched and stressed, so I took a very early lunch break (amazng I took time off at all, I don't thnk I have snce long before Christmas). I hadn't eaten yet, so I went to get a bagel and juice. Snce I was already downstairs, I decided to swng by Blanepear's department.

Conveniently, I needed to talk to his boss about teachng the web design class, so that wast my excuse for stoppng by. Indeed, it's the department I should be n -- beng concerned with the arts. I promised myself I would take a writng course this term, but I seem to have even less time and money than ever.

Even more conveniently, his boss wasn't n yet. I appreciate his sense of humor, but by far the best part was we talked about books. There was a poster on the office door with author's appearances listed, so we got to talkng about how we're n New York for those thngs, but never get a chance to do them, either because we lack the time or money. Or both.

He showed me their bookshelf and nvited me to borrow books anytime. They have a nice collection down there, which I had no idea about. Goodness knows I don't read enough. I don't thnk I've read anythng snce September 10. Indeed, the same three books are n my headboard snce my birthday (Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath; Me, a Memoir and Bodily Harm by Sylvia Plath, Brenda Ueland and Margaret Atwood, respectively).

I tend to operate n separate readng, writng and veggng phases. Maybe I'll brng a book on the bus tomorrow. The one thng I miss about my longer commute from Brooklyn is that I read at least twice a day and usually before bed as well.

He ponted me toward some womens studies books, bless his soul. I noticed a copy of Crime and Punishment, which nspired a geeky reference to Wallace and Gromit, because Gromit, god love him, was readng Plato's Republic n one short and Crime and Punishment by Fido Dogstevsky n another. Ya gotta love Nick Park and the other fne souls at Aardman.

That led to a subconversation about Raskolnikov, one of my favorite literary characters. I found him fascnatng. "He's an nterestng character, an elitist," Blanepear said.

"Yes, but an ntellectual elitist, rather than a class elitist, as is far more common," I responded.

"Well, ntellectual elitism is just fne," he said, with a smirk.

Nerds of a feather, have pun together.

All that led to talkng about books and writers and writng ourselves. He writes, oh yes he does. If nothng else, I'm glad I've found an ally. It's nice havng someone who understands that part of me, who I can talk with about these thngs that are so important to me and yet so nearly forgotten n my daily life. I am so thankful for the little remnder of my very own self, just when I most needed a boost.

. . .

I am...watchng Saturday Night Fever, which is the sort of movie I pick up somethng new with every viewng. The last time (I rented it n college), I was really struck by the racism of the characters, which I'd completely missed as a child either because my parents had me leave the room or due to my blnd pre-teen John Travolta love. (Must've been an Italian thng -- because when I was taken to get custom iron-on T-shirts as a kid, I chose first the Fonz and later Grease).

This time, with the racial and sexist slurs bleeped -- what really strikes me is how Stephanie, Tony's older, "sophisticated" dance partner, isn't. She's a star-struck Bayridge girl, not much older than Tony at all, who's completely absorbed n movng to Manhattan and raisng her social status.

There is so much I didn't get because I was too young when I saw it. All that sex stuff and then the friend jumpng off the Verrazano because he got his girlfriend pregnant. It was a night of new, sexual and sad layers.

The second time I came to New York, my friend Pete n Brooklyn took me all over the borough -- from the Brooklyn Bridge to the Verrazano, Prospect Park to Coney Island and one of the highlights is the street Tony struts along durng the openng credits.

. . .

I am...not photographng Central Park, with a lustrous, if thn blanket of snow. I was just besotted with the sight of it when I reached the top of Sixth Avenue this mornng. It looked so magical.

I'm only sorry I was runnng late and didn't have a chance to go back out and take pictures before dark, which comes too soon just now.

[Next entry: "In Bloom"]
[Index] [archives] [bio]
[Wish List]

Powered By Greymatter

All text and images 1992-2002 Erica