It's that time of month again...

Haha - gotcha with that intro... not what you think (men! Take cover!), but I can't believe I waited a month to post again, for my 3 faithful readers. If it becomes a monthly post, so be it, but I will try to get back on track. If there are more readers out there, let me know. Leave me a message. It's nice. We're off to go hiking in Colorado for a week, and believe it or not, Mrs. Aviophobia (look it up) is actually more worried about altitude sickness. Many of you know that the day before my engagement in Aspen two years ago, I landed in the hospital with altitude sickness that could stop Lance Armstrong in his tire tracks. I'm not in shape like him, but just pretend you understand my analogy. I was hooked up to oxygen, was told I might need a spinal tap because maybe I had an aneurism, and had to get an injection of Imitrex to rid myself of the headache. Then, the next day I climbed a mountain for an unforgettable engagement... but I digress...

We're out of town for a week with fresh air, 70 degree days and 50 degree nights. No air conditioner to dry me out, no soot in my eyes when I walk around, no fresh smell of urine (I love that phrase. fresh and smell don't have to be describing something pleasant, right?) on the subway platforms, no ringing in the ears from jackhammers and construction. One. Week. Did I mention in the meantime, we are looking to buy a place in NYC and make it home for at least the next 5 years? Am I crazy or do I have an incessant love/hate relationship with this city that I have called home for the last 6? Just how I can't finish one sentence in this post without starting a new one mid-typing, that's how often my love affair with this city changes.

Ahhhhhhcappella.

We have finally finished mixing and mastering our CD that was started (recorded) in January 2005. Thank heavens I'm not on the committee to do the layout, because I can sit back and say "not my problem" when weeks go by without a design. I feel really proud of what we created. Granted, I'm not the engineer with the technical skills, but I spent many hours mixing and re-recording to get an incredible CD, and I can't wait to hear the public's (i.e. our friends and family) reaction.

Rockstar: INXS

I'd normally be completely against a show like CBS's new reality show, Rockstar, which is the search to find a new lead singer for INXS after the death of Michael Hutchence in 1997. It's fine to want a new lead singer, but for a rock band so well-known by the sound and talent of their lead singer (U2, Smashing Pumpkins, Coldplay, etc), please change your name or change something so you don't offend fans thinking "they're trying to replace Michael Hutchence".

BUT - I am totally sucked into this show because an old friend of mine from high school who also happened to be my prom date is one of the finalists. I've written about him before, will probably write about him again, but am totally psyched to know that he's on the show and getting national exposure. In his video he even talks about "taking up music when he was 16" which was at the peak of our friendship. I'm sure he'll dedicate his first Grammy to me (HAHA). Guess who he is - pick him out, and leave a comment on my blog. I know you're out there. I know at least 5 of you read my blog and never comment.

Holy technology, Batman.

I just used Skype for the first time today. In layman's terms, it's a way for you to speak through your computer microphone to another person anywhere in the world. I think you can also use it to dial phone numbers anywhere in the world. Did I mention it's free? Not that I ever need to use this since I have unlimited local/long distance phone service, but my good friend Elizabeth is living in Germany for the summer, so I asked her to download it and give it a try. It's certainly a little bit choppy (i.e. your cell phone's average service) and you will hear your own voice come back to you from her speakers outputting the sound then treating it as input, but if you put headphones on, that takes care of that problem.

We spoke for 1/2 hour. I was completely floored. I'm such a geek.

When's the next meal in Chicago?

Dave and I just came back from a weekend in Chicago to visit my college friends, Brett, Adrienne, Olga and Nick. We had spectacular weather the entire weekend until we departed from our gate at O'Hare yesterday. That resulted in a 2-hour delay on the tarmac. Scared-to-fly-me did surprisingly well, even with no medication. While in Chicago, we made no plans other than meals. A great Italian restaurant on Saturday night, the fatteningly-famous Original Pancake House, where everyone made fun of me for ordering 5 tiny silver-dollar pancakes, a BBQ at Brett/Ade's place on Sunday night, brunch at Tempo, a quick stop at The Taste Of Chicago, then crusty airplane snacks to top it off on the way home. We had no other plans. We didn't go sight-seeing, catch a Cubs game, or see my alma mater. It was food, friends, food, friends, food friends. And I wouldn't have changed a thing, other than moving some of my greatest friends closer to us.

Wicked Good

Saw "Wicked" yesterday for the 3PM matinee. 3rd row mezzanine, slight partial obstruction view (didn't say it on the ticket, dammit) and had a great time doing a first - hitting up a Broadway show by myself. Saw David Ayers (guy I went to college with, had some classes with him but didn't really know him) play the male lead, Fiyero... and I gotta say, he was good but not great. At least he's made a career for himself: in college if I had to guess which of my classmates would've been starring on Broadway, he'd be one of the 5 I would've picked.

Sent bad karma to a total asshole on the bus today. Got on the M72 with most seats taken except a few in the back and one double seat. A guy was sitting on the outside seat with the inside being open. I stood there, long enough for him to know that I wanted to sit, and politely said "excuse me". He didn't break from his cell phone conversation. 5 seconds pass, so I said "excuse me" again and tried to gently nudge to sit. He looks up from his phone and YELLS (literally) "Just a minute!". Apparently he can't do two things at once: talk on a phone and shift his weight sideways so I can get by him. Must've been on an important business call, so I YELLED back (right in the direction of the mouthpiece on the phone, "What an asshole, I just wanted to sit". Got lots of smiles and chuckles from fellow bus friends. :)

Poker = too trendy

So the entire world seems to know how to play poker. It's on every channel, the 'real' poker players are annoyed that the 'wannabe players' have entered their world and are actually winning money. We're going to Atlantic City this weekend with my Dad and his wife to play Dave's favorite game (mine too), craps. Lots of different bets to make, you don't have to lose your money too quickly (or you can depending on how many bets you make), and all the players at the table are rooting for each other. Generally, when you win, they win. When you lose, they do too. Instant friends. Let's hear it for crazy summer Friday afternoon driving (I think it's going to be a long trip), comped meals (by my Dad, not the casino), and getting out of the hot city for a change. Then again, it's Gay pride weekend which is always one of the most festive weekends, so I'm a bit sad to be missing out on watching the parade.

I also love that there's an actual casino game where you can say "I crapped out". I'm such an immature dork deep down (actually, it's not deep down at all).

Am I a newlywed?

Our one-year anniversary was yesterday. Does that mean I can no longer say I'm a newlywed? I don't know what the official rules are. We actually went to the gym yesterday for the first time in months (getting ready for a hiking trip in August to Aspen). Feeling blah because I have a lingering sinus infection (or so I think) because the entire right side of my face has been hurting me every day until I take Sudafed.

What a pointless post - no exciting details, just more complaining :)

Daddy always said...

...get it in writing. I was once in a semi-professional group in college where I sang a cappella for a summer. I took the time to learn music, travel to places like Bumblefuck, Illinois to perform, and it basically took away from the time that I would normally have had a paying job. The person I sang with (a friend of mine) had promised payment per show. Once the end of the summer rolled around, he basically said he had nothing to pay me because he had to pay off his debts for obtaining all of the equipment we had used for the shows and paying the gas/van rentals for each show as well. It was that day that I learned to finally listen to my Dad after all those years. Whenever money is involved, whether it's friends or enemies, GET IT IN WRITING.

I'm now dealing with a job I recently left (keeping it oh-so non-descript since I don't want to get burned) and my former boss is trying to determine what I should be paid based on hours, even though our contract is based on time (# of weeks) I spent with the job. The contract even says from week to week that I get to determine my own hours. All of this being said, and 6 pages later in my contract -- the boss is trying to swindle me out of getting what I deserve. The sad thing is, the maximum amount of money I am asking for would work out to about $4.50 an hour as a full-time job. So take that "I'm going to calculate your work on an hourly basis" and shove it.

Schweaty Balls

Ok - not the fun treat from the infamous SNL skit, but last night I think I lost a pound of weight from sweating my arse off. My a cappella group had our semi-annual big show, and we showed up to the venue about 2 hours before the show. Keep in mind it was in the high 80s with 10000% humidity yesterday, and rain made it even stickier. We walk into an oven with 6 or so portable air conditioners like this one (unfortunately they didn't come with the lame guy in the picture). The bar never told us their air broke 2 WEEKS AGO, so the 13 of us sang in 90+ degree temperatures under stage lights, but managed to pull off one of our best shows ever. I think it helped that most of us chugged out of a Jack Daniels bottle about 1 minute before we got on stage. Kudos to our audience for sticking around, and shame on the club for not telling us. It's too bad for them b/c we brought them 140 people and a lot of drinks/business at a time when they're normally not even open.

Posting Via E-mail

Not that my internet connection is slow, but I recently discovered I can
post to my blog via e-mail, which makes it a lot easier for me. Let's just
see if I can figure out how to get it right and not screw up HTML tags and
headings.

On May 13, I said I would write later about three topics: babies having
babies, quitting my job, and a particular rockstar. I'm finally getting
around to writing about them.

Babies Having Babies
I was on the subway about a month ago, and two strangers struck up a
conversation with each other. One was a woman around the age of 23, the other was an older woman, probably in her 40s. I'll call them OW (older woman) and YW (younger woman) because even in a blog, I feel an incessant need to abbreviate. OW complimented the YW on her shirt, then started to talk her (and everyone else on the train's) ear off. OW talked about going back to her group home, and how with AIDS it's hard to keep getting paid. She told her about her 3 kids, 2 with HIV, one with no symptoms (luckily with the third child she had figured out she had AIDS, and when pregnant with her they gave her medication so she's disease free), and how being a mom is such a great thing. This woman looked homeless - ripped shoes, horrible teeth, her hair hadn't seen a brush in weeks, and she reeked of cheap alcohol. YW listened intently from across the subway car (OW was sitting, YW was across the way against the door). YW then reveals she has a 18 month old child as well. OW asks if she's in school, YW acknowledges, and says "I'm a sophomore". So now I am thinking "Wow - 20 with a kid"? OW asks how old she is, she says 16. 16. She then points and says "That's my baby daddy" to a guy across the train, clearly ignoring her. She was pregnant at 14. This entire conversation was so uncomfortable for me, becauseI wanted to say "ok - enough about your personal lives in front of the rest of us" but also because I wanted to somehow reach out and help both of them, but didn't come up with anything in about the 4 minutes this all transpired.

Quitting My Job
I left my job as an events planner (of sorts). I was getting no reward from the job emotionally and was basically resorting to a 9-5 job where all I was responsible for was calling schools. Without coming off like a complete educational snob, I know I didn't work my way through a great college and graduate school to do a job that required one skill - talking on the phone. I think it also didn't help that I really didn't believe in the company itself, because it was too wrapped up in suing another company with a similar name and concept. "Blech" is the best word for the entire thing. So now - over a month later, and the measly amount of money I was supposed to be paid every two months still hasn't been addressed. My boss asked for all of my old files so she could 'determine' what I should be paid, but all I know is that I have a contract with her (6 freakin' pages) and I can't believe I may have to fight with someone over paying me what equates to less than minimum wage for the amount of work I put in.

Prom Date Turned Rock Star
At this point, my hands are starting their usual carpal tunnel cramp, so this one will be short. My high school prom date (I'm such a dork referring to him like that but it's true) who was also a really good friend of mine in high school, and someone I e-mail every so often, is now getting his (hopefully more than) 15 minutes of fame on a reality show. The show is called Rock Star, which is the search for the new lead singer of INXS. For the 3 people who read my blog, you already know this, but for the other 'pretend' people I like to imagine that read this, I'll let you take a guess which one of the contestants was my friend from high school. Whoever wins, I hope they don't pick a female. I can't see a woman singing songs like "Suicide Blonde" and "New Sensation". Come on, you can't really replace Michael Hutchence.

You don't bring me anything but down

Last night in rehearsal, we were in the middle of singing a song, and someone says "This is fucking awful". She says this 4 days before our show. She says this to 12 other people who have been working hard, while she comes to each rehearsal with her hands on her hips, doesn't warm-up, and basically only sings when she feels like it. She has an opinion (who doesn't) but when the rest of the group disagrees, she argues until the rest of us can do nothing else but give into her so she will just stop arguing. Manhattan is an island, so it's time to kick it into Survivor mode. Someone WILL be kicked off the singing island, and hopefully it's not me. I have never thought of myself as a mean or threatening person, but I'm off like Paris Hilton's underwear if this mean-spirited member sticks around.

I'm sensing a downward trend, here

I don't read my own posts: I just edit as I write them, post them, and then they become the intellectual property of the Internet for everyone else (note: the 3 people who read this) to consume. However, in seeing the titles of my last few posts, I'm realizing there's a negative trend of what I write about. It's very typical of me. I kept journals in high school on and off, and if a stranger were to read them, they'd think "crap this chick is depressed". However, whenever I recount my time in high school, it's always with incredible memories and vivid recollections of how much I discovered who I am (at least back then). But - the majority of the time I'd write in my journal, it would be when I was depressed about something: some boy who didn't like me, people who made fun of me when I gained weight from steroids and Crohn's Disease... there were a few choice entries of "ooh so and so is such a good/bad friend". I hadn't seen my journals from high school in a long time: they were boxed up at my Dad's apartment for over 4 years and I finally retrieved them this past April when visiting Florida.

So now, I get in bed, take advantage of a wireless laptop and a wireless internet connection, and what comes to mind to write about? All the reasons that I'm depressed. Ok not clinically "I need prozac" depressed (been there, done that), but depressed as in "I better start eating healthy and exercising". I've got so much to be thankful for, but constantly struggle with what my purpose is, as least for the near future. Since June 2003 I haven't held a full-time job. I've looked, though not that hard, because after a really ugly experience at a record label I vowed not to take a job unless my heart was in it. I have had a few other quasi-full time jobs since then, but my heart hasn't been in it each time. I have even started to feel a distance with friends: it's so hard to talk to them about work and I feel so stupid that I don't have anything to share on that front. I know that music and writing are where my heart is, but it's taken me this long to figure out how to make money at doing what I love. I'm still trying to figure it out. I know the things that I can write about that could fill a book, but they are so personal that even seeing the words on a page (or a computer screen) freaks me out a bit.

Though there are no real rules about blogging, I think one of them should be that posts can't be too long. Otherwise it's not really a post. It becomes an article of sorts. I'm going to quit while I'm ahead and see if my next post will have me in a better mood and better spirits.

Fat ass is around the bend

I've gained about 7 pounds since my wedding almost one year ago. I think the number of times I've been to the gym since then I can count on two hands. The gym is in my building - an elevator ride away, and I work from home. Damn am I lazy. I am continually frustrated by hurting hands battling with the desire to write in this blog every day, but I can barely get my job done!

My a cappella group has a show coming up in 8 days, and by some miracle we seem to pull ourselves together at the last minute and actually sound good. I'm finally excited after having the 'crap I hate rehearsals' attitude for the last month. I am still constantly annoyed at one woman in the group who talks INCESSANTLY every time we stop singing. It's like if she doesn't talk her head will explode. I then wonder why is it that any time I say "ok here's what we're doing next" she has to stop me and say "Wait I know you said this but what's next?" I want to tell her to (in the words of a good friend from the group) SUCK IT.

Complaints complaints complaints. Makes it tough that I married into a family whose motto is 'don't complain'. Ha.

A**hole New Yorkers

This happened today. I am the character "Me".

Scene: Starbucks at 42nd Street and 11th Avenue (yes, 11th Avenue exists). Waiting in line for a treat or coffee, I am undecided on just how much sugar I want to ingest. A woman waits at the register while she places her order, and I am standing approximately 3 feet (perhaps the width of 2 people away?) to the right of her. There is no room to wait directly behind her as there is a table there, so the line must form to the right.

Enter: a man (certainly not a GENTLEman) in his 40s with newspaper tucked under his arm and brow furled. He steps in between myself and the woman at the register. I glance over at him.

Man (to Me): You waitin'?
Me: Yes I am.
Man: Welll how am I supposed to know, you're too far away from her. [He then steps to the right of me.]
Me: After being on crowded subways and crowded restaurants, I figured it's nice not to crowd people if you don't need to in this city.
Man: [pregnant pause]
Me: [delighting in his idiocy]

Woman leaves register with her $8 coffee, and I slide over to order at the register.
Man: Well cuz you know you need to be in a line so I actually know it's a line.
Me: Now I know why people from out of town dislike New Yorkers.

And dammit, I've lived here six years and I'm not an asshole, am I? I secretly hoped he burned his mouth on his coffee or it gave him diarrhea.

Argh!

Just wrote a long post after not being online for a month with my blog, and it disappeared! Argh, technology. Too frustrated now to write it again but will re-write tomorrow. This is more of a reminder for myself than anything, but I will write about:

1) Quitting my job
2) Babies having babies
3) Prom date turned rock star

Interesting topics, huh? Makes you want to check back in, right?

Sunshine State of Mind

Florida in less than 24 hrs. Still fragmented typing (carpal tunnel in BOTH wrists). Happy Passover!

Doctor's report

- carpal tunnel
- tennis elbow tendonitis
- rotator cuff tendonitis

- ice, therapy, wrist splint, ice therapy, no medication (thank you crohn's disease for no anti-inflammatory pills allowed dammit).

one word. fuck.

what is the sound of one-handed typing?

wrist is still in SUH-VEERE pain. too hard to type many caps (or full sentences) with one hand. this sucks. no computer use on this hand for 2 weeks? more? you are shit out of luck when taking two plates out of a dishwasher at one time is too much weight on hand. also shit out of luck trying to play piano at rehearsal one-handed. oh yeah - and the desk job that's 100% e-mailing? fuck fuck fuck. how depressing is this? ok not so bad - in the words of my dad it's more "high quality problem" but i feel so useless. at least it's- right hand - i'm lefty. don't even get me started on how long it took to type this, but being at the computer is a bit addictive for me. or is it addicting? ack - brain going to mush, too.

Aaaarrrrrrgggghhhh

New desk. Adjustable legs for optimal height. Fancy schmancy desk chair for optimal positioning. So why the fuck does my wrist and arm hurt all day and all night long? This is so depressing - it makes it so hard to have a desk job and makes working really painful.