Happy Jew Near

Relieved that of my friends decided to have a New Years' Eve party in his apartment. I couldn't figure out what I was going to do with myself.

New Year's Eve reminds me of the movie Vacation with Chevey Chase; it's a quest for fun.

I didn't feel like spending a lot of money on a restaurant that night. I also had the option of schlepping to Bloomfield, which wasn't appealing to me. My final thought (aside from "...take care or yourself and each other) was to try to find catering work or the like so that I wouldn't have to stay home.

In an odd twist of fate, my boyfriend decided to change his flight last minute so that he'll be back this afternoon. I wonder if he'll want to come to the party with me; I think there will be all of 6 people there.

I hate to bring this up again, but since it is my job, I'm completely dreading going back to work.

Sometimes something in your brain changes; I guess one can consider it a concerted attitude adjustment. It must be a survival technique - animal instinct. It's this ability to reprioritize that allows me to feel more at ease with regard to my current position.

Having the motivation sucked out of me has been surprisingly refreshing since I've decided not to overexert myself in any way - I can't help but feel surrounded by the bowels of the employment pool. The motivation one once felt having landed a job is what one needs to get out of it.

$@bs

Merry Stressmas

The holidays tend to make people a little bit more on edge and I have been no exception; Christmas came and went. Despite my merry caroling, my holiday was less jolly than I anticipated; mostly because I didn't get what I wanted. It's not a good thing to have expectations.

To my defense, Santa led me to believe that I deserved what I asked for and that it was forthcoming, but then later let me know that at the time that he received my letter, he didn't want to tell me that is was too soon for that type of gift. I basically had to find out the hard way (never getting it) and was sorely disappointed as a result.

I don't just feel let down that I'm not going to get what I hoped for this Christmas. I could take that in stride; I'm a big girl.

I'm mostly upset that Santa led me we were on the same page, when in fact, we weren't. Basically, he was just too pussy to tell me the truth. I would have thought Santa would have been a lot bigger than that; presenting himself as a man's man with his nonstop physical training and what not.

I will have a total of almost two whole weeks off from work. There was talk of going away, but that didn't pan out either. I made plans to go away to Philly for a couple of days, as a last resort (an act of desperation) but my friend that was meant to drive sprang an oil leak, so the trip is canceled.

Needless to say, looking forward to these 2008 pieces of shit being over.

$@bs

Project Alcohol: Fierce

Got trashed last night... even shook my ass a bit. It was great.

I always feel especially accomplished on the nights I am able to go out and get drunk; mostly because usually I'm home watching movies on my laptop with a cat under each arm; not that that's a bad thing.

Last night I went to Fashion Forty, a bar an old friend of mine co-owns.

I wasn't there to see him though in the past I used to visit him every once in a while since I work around the corner.

Once when I stopped by, he didn't appear for an hour.

When I finally saw him, I told him I had been looking for him, his response was,

"Yea, everybody's looking for me."

I didn't bother to visit him again.

Get over yourself.

There will be more drinking in the late afternoon at my company Christmas party at Spanky's Barbeque.

I'm going to have to get drunk just to deal with being in a place called Spanky's.

$@bs

Tap Tap Taparroo

So I've been less than pleasant of late considering my extreme dissatisfaction with my position.

In case you haven't noticed, I've been marinating in it for days (as shown here). The chicken represents me and the sauce represents my irritation.

I was talking to my mother yesterday and she told me to check out www.tapping.com.

I'll admit, once I heard that mantras were involved, I was completely turned off, as per uj.

However, since I've been in the poo-pooest of moods recently, I figured I had nothing to lose so I went ahead and tried the exercise.

Afterward I actually felt a lot better. I tried to recreate the irritation and seriously could not do it - and recreating irritation is one of the things I do best.

Now I didn't repeat the mantras aloud, since I have a strict policy against that type of new age hooey, but I did say them in my head and came to understand that the exercise is about accepting negative feelings and then releasing them.

Check it out and let me know what you think! Does it swim or does it sink?

$@bs

Glass Half Fucking Bastard

I wish I could say I have PMS today and that's why I feel so cunty.

Blame it on my bad crab cake sandwich; the days I don't enjoy my lunch are horrible days indeed. Why does a bad lunch seem to always ruin a perfectly good day?

I have officially had it with my job - I just don't care anymore and there's no point in trying since it's kind of a joke.

For the most part, the people have either they have been here for 20 years and will never get another job anywhere else; or they don't care about a career and are just plodding along.

Needless to say, I'm a completely uninspired and disgruntled worker DELUXE.

Not only do I have no desire to be here, I don't have the energy to pretend that I do.

It's a sorry state of affairs, really.

This is what corporate America will do to you.

Thankfully I don't define myself by my job, so I'm only completely Les Miz when I'm here.

As soon as I leave I feel myself getting back to myself.

This place puts me in such a bad mood I don't even want to drink.

I'm also completely over living in New York. Don't you ever get sick of people being up your ass all the time???

Here, you'll see a picture of me trying to make my way to get lunch.

Here's something I never thought I would say: I can't WAIT to move (in accordance with the prophecy).

$@bs

Where's My Dinner?

I'm starving as all bloody hell and I lack the motivation to venture into my kitchen.

There are things about that can be grabbed: dates, toast and yogurt to name a few.

I am just slacking because the Simpson's is on in four minutes.

I suddenly seem to be trying to push my own cyber envelope of late.

That happens when I have too much time on my hands and start reading too many trade blogs.

Yesterday one suggested I start using Delicious and yet another suggested Twitter so I immediately subscribed to both.

I have to admit, when it comes to home theaters I'm not even in this millenia, but I refuse to lag behind when it concerns new communication trends.

I am still, after all, once and forever...a bonified cyber junkie.

Even though I'm on the computer all day long at work, I come home and can still spend hours doing absolutely nothing on the internet...like this for example.

The Simpsons beckon - more later.

$@bs

Vacation: All I Ever Wanted

I have barely used any of my vacation, which, when I found out, explained so much.

Anywho ( I really hate people who use the word anywho), I'm hoping to go away since I realized I'm about to have two full weeks off. I can't even remember the last time I had so much time off.

I'm also hoping to go to Europe in Feb. After I broke up with one angry Nigerian, he described me as a girl from The Jerse with a bad attitude that has never been further than the shore, I thought I had better get on my travel plans. Going abroad was one of my goals for '08 . If I at least buy the tickets, that still sort of counts.

$@bs

I's Pow'ful Tired

Been singing a lot late with my hot new holiday acapella trio: Three Ladies Singing.

You can check us out at myspace.com/threeladiessinging

This is a project I'm extremely proud of and very excited that it seems to be going so well so far.

We have already gotten hired for an event which was my goal behind my promotion calendar.

I'm ecstatic that this is going so well!

$@bs

Tofurkey Klein

I've been thinking that I actually have a lot to be thankful for this year.

For one thing, my face is almost completely healed and I almost have full feeling back and
almost no scarring.

Now for the cheese: I am also really thankful that I have someone so special in my life. It's kind of disgusting to say it out loud, but there, I've said it.

Accountability is such a rare and cherished quality for me.

So is such a big dick.

$@bs

It Goes On

The dreaded conference is over.

It went very well thanks to no one but myself.

Needless to say, time to keep it moving.

More later...

$@bs

It's A Subatomic World, After All...

My face is well on the mend, thanks for asking.

Who else is guilty of letting your job completely takeover your life?
I have not been good about blogging, and I have the National Nano Engineering Conference 2008 to thank for that.

What's that? Never heard of the NNEC, you say? Well allow me to elaborate:

The National Nano Engineering Conference 2008 (NNEC) is the premier event focused on current and future developments in engineering innovations at the nanoscale, as well as the commercialization of nanotechnology. The NNEC returns to Boston on November 12th-13th at the Boston Colonnade Hotel. Click here.

The 2008 NNEC will include technical presentations and exhibits from companies leading the nanotechnology industry and will feature concurrent sessions covering Aerospace & Defense, Bio/Medical, Electronics, Advanced Materials Business, Energy & Environment.

The Nano50 Awards will also be presented during the conference, showcasing the top innovators, technologies and products in nanotechnology. This year's dinner presentation will be given by Cherry Murray, Principal Associate Director for Science and Technology, Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory. Dr. Murray will discuss how the National Ignition Facility (NIF) at Lawrence Livermore National Lab, the world’s most powerful laser, will be commissioned in spring 2009.

What Do You Call A Bunch of Lawyers at the Bottom of the Ocean?

A good start.

But seriously folks, I've been considering suing the city for what happened to my face.

I know, gorgeous aren't I? Luckily I only looked like that for a week. I'm pretty much back to normal, except now I look like I had a fight with a tanning lamp and it won.

Back to finding a lawyer, I called up The Cochrane Firm. I got there a little early since I am perpetually on time. They saw me 20 minutes late in my 60 minute lunch hour. I was already irritated. Then this perfect fucking nobody bitch seats me in a conference room and starts launching questions at me without even so much as bothering to introduce herself.

Even more annoying, many of the questions she posed were asked by her colleague the night before. She then asked me if I were in school. I replied that no, I was 31, to which she rudely responded, "Just because you're 31, doesn't mean your not in school." I told her I had heard enough at that point and left.

Turns out she was only some dumb assistant, OBVI.

$@bs

See You Next Fall

I got completely laid out while biking. I hit a pot hole and flipped over my handle bars; bruised my face something awful - multiple fractures (but no breaks, amazingly enough).

Now I just look like a burn vicitm, with sections of fleshy pink stripes across my face. Somehow my iPod, helmet, and bicycle made it through unharmed; not the bell that was on my bike, however.

My acumen is less than satisfactory, in my opinion. That is, I find it lacking - though I'm trying to give myself time to heal. I often find myself struggling for the right words, where once they used to come easily.

I had, after all, a mild concussion. I don't remember losing consciousness, but I definitely did a few times. I do remember flashes of the gurney and the emergency room. My one eye is still droopy, besides. I still wonder if I gave a peep show since I was wearing a skirt when I flipped over my handlebars.

$@bs

First We Burn It, Then We Stab It

What I'm describing in the title of this blog is my left index finger.

About a week ago I was making home fries in my cast iron skillet. One of my girlfriends accidentally set fire to one of two hot towels I own and the one hot towel was not adequate for my needs.

The burn left from the scorching first formed into a water filled blister. Now it looks as though some type of rat, or other rodent, has been gnawing upon it.

In the midst of all this, I attended a BBQ for the Labor Day holiday. I decided to make shish-kabob with chicken, peppers, onions and fresh pineapple. I carefully tried to avoid the noxious burn, which I did successfully.

In my painstaking care to steer clear of my existing wound, I also managed to stab myself with the wooden kabob stick. Luckily, the splintery tip of which was loosened from my flesh when soaking my finger in salt water, as suggested for my burn.

Why is it that once a part of the body is hurt, one cannot help but to further aggravate it? Or is it that you don't notice how much contact a part of the body has on the daily basis: you never notice how many there are of a certain car until you start thinking about buying that particular vehicle.

Once in the sixth grade I fell on top of my bicycle while walking it. I wound up having to get six stitches in my ankle. I can't ever remember banging my sore ankle more.

The main point is that it's not a good week for my left index finger. Healing is slow and painful, not to mention aesthetically displeasing altogether.

More news at 11.

$@bs

Peace: It's What's for Dinner

I like to think of myself as a good person. Deep down I know how horrible I really am, actually I think most of my friends do too, but for some reason they keep calling me back. So any time I have the chance to do something nice for someone I care about, I try to do it.

This being said, I've been letting my cousin crash on my couch for the past couple of weeks. I had no idea how difficult this would be for me. Ever since he came I've been finding a lot of excuses for staying away from home. I'm plagued by visions of him leaving lights and other electronics on unnecessarily. I've run home during my work day twice already just to close the toilet. I know: I have problems .

My uber dreamy boyfriend has been letting me stay a couple of nights with him to try to get a little peace. I can't tell you how much it has taken out of me to be frustrated and annoyed all day at work and then frustrated and annoyed all night at home. I'm like a bird that can't land.

The other night I was on the bus going to the boyf's and feeling sorry for myself at the fact that I don't want to go home anymore. I was trying to gather my thoughts together, which I haven't felt able to do as a result of my house guest. Suddenly someone on the bus tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around. Some stupid boy was smiling at me. I figured he touched me by mistake when he sat down so I ignored him.

I returned to my lamenting, feeding my sadness and getting very emotional about the whole thing until tears began to silently roll down my face. This went on for some fifteen minutes when in the middle of my moment, Tappy McBothersome got up to debus and to aggravate me anew. He touched my shoulder and I turned my crying face to his direction and surprise.

"Are you ok," he asked.
"I'm fine," I replied seething at his audacity.
"Are you sure you're ok," he persisted.
"I'm FINE, bye!" I insisted firmly.
"Don't cry," he said.
"BYE!" I practically shouted.

Couldn't even get a moment's peace on a fucking bus, which should be safely anonymous. I'll be happy when I can hide in my sanctuary again. Anyone that knows of an apartment for my cousin is welcome to tap me on the shoulder at any time of day or night. Until I am happily restored in my humble but PRIVATE abode, I'd advise against it.

$@bs

Child abuse: NOT funny

This weekend I hung out with my little sister; though not my actual little sister, who is still not speaking with me because she's somehow convinced herself that I attempted to sabotage the financing of back surgery she's recently had (this is a very long and stupid story which still pisses me off when I think about it so I'm not going to).

This would be my little sister as part of the Big Sister/Little Sister program. We spend about 8 hours a month together. The program has been enjoyable for the most part, except naturally there have been a couple of challenges.

In my opinion, the mother is the main problem in this scenario. I was supposed to take my little sister to a Yankees game last week. I waited there for a half an hour before I decided to leave. I just don't wait a half an hour for anyone. I mean it's no wonder that some of these families are in such bad shape when you see what they are like to deal with. Here I am, volunteering my time to take your kid out, feed her, entertain her, and you can't even fucking show up on time? What gives?

But that's not the worst of it. Yesterday when I dropped off my little sister, she was desperate to use the bathroom when I dropped her off at home. She asked if I would wait until she was done to say goodbye. which I did. Her mother was in the living room, which was curtained off by a sheet to keep cool air contained in the room which the air conditioning was manufacturing. Her mother didn't see me behind the sheet as I heard her speak to her other daughter; a five year old.

"If you touch this remote again I'm going to beat the shit out of you. I told you get dressed three hours ago and you're still fucking buck ass neked!"

If I could have slithered into the cracks in the floor I would have. I prayed she wouldn't realize I was there. I was completely horrified. My father wasn't actually much different in the way he spoke to us. Maybe if I had children I would feel differently, but right now I think that speaking to a five year old this way is verbal abuse. I'm kind of ambivalent about whether or not to report this to the social worker involved in their case.

$@bs

Stinking is the Pits

I think i might be one of the hairier, smellier girls around. When I was in college I neither wore deodorant nor shaved, AND I had a boyfriend it you can believe it! Not shaving was my way of not "playing the game".

Anytime some white baseball capped frat boy dude-bro even looked my way all I had to do was merely raise an arm and all I'd see in his place was a puff of smoke. I would smile wryly. It's been years since I went back to shaving.

One of my friend's mothers actually approached me after I decided to shave and said, "I just want you to know how happy I am that you're shaving again." I guess some people were really bothered: all the more reason to have continued the rebellion.

The reason for the no deodorant factor was just the Alzheimer's myth. It's only been about a year that I've been back on the deo. I finally broke down when my good friend said, "Sabs, you know I love you, but sometimes you stink."

The message was pretty clear: the hippie oils weren't cutting it anymore. At least my good chum was kind enough to let me know.

Yet, even after I made the switch back to deo, I tell ya, the shit still doesn't work - half way through the day I still ripen like a sweet piece of fruit; then I fall off the vine.

Incidentally, I keep deo in my desk drawer for the mid-day stank. I also keep toothpaste, shampoo, dental floss, nail polish remover, eye liner, nail files, tampons, baby powder, and lotion.

Hey you never know. The one thing that should be in there is a razor. I start getting a 5:00 shadow under my arms at 3:00 (not just smelly, but hairy too - WOW)! God, I'm so hot.

Times Squarea: Ho's No Mo

I think I mentioned that I work in Times Square right now. I spend most of my lunch hour just trying to get down the street and dodge the annoying tourists who habitually walk in a zig zag much slower than you'd think a person was able to walk unless old or physically challenged.

I remember the good old days when Times Square was nothing but crack heads, hookers and peep shows. Is nothing sacred? Now it's like Disney World, only instead of standing in lines, everyone's on the sidewalk in front of me...not moving.

Hair Don't

I just got my hair cut this week. I hate getting it trimmed since I've been trying to grow it out for years. Basically, after I moved to Amherst for one intolerable semester at UMASS, I finally decided to cut my hair extremely short, which I had always wanted to do but never had the balls to disobey my father's wish of Lady Godiva length locks. I've been trying to grow it back ever since (talk about Karma).

I really didn't want to cut off much at all, just a trim for the ends is all I hoped for. My hairdresser asks me what I want to do, and then blatantly disregards my requests. Does anyone else feel intimidated by a service provider whom the see regularly?

My hairdresser is a very good looking Russian guy and I don't have the where-with-all to fight back, mostly because I spend the entire time in the chair being preoccupied with whether he is focusing on my bald spot, a rather large dent in the back of my head, a small lump at the top of my crown, or a case of psoriasis I have never quite been able to kick.

Usually by the time my insecurities reach their peak potency, the length of my hair is a non-issue. Not like it matters since my hair is so curly it looks the same no matter what is done with it.

Damn Brick Breaker and Its Evil Entertaining Ways

Like an asshole I missed my stop on the train tonight because I was too distracted by a game of brick breaker on the new crackberry my company bought me. I was also supposed to go to the gym and flaked on myself.

Why is it I'm so good at keeping my word to other people, but so disappointing when it comes to keeping my word to myself? I should stop making promises to myself or I'm going to stop being friends with me.

Everybody Else is Doing it, Why Can't I?

I watch the world flocking to original content written by a bunch of half-wit perfect f'ing nobodys: suddenly everbody's an expert.

Then there's me with my genius brain (of which I'm still only using half). I figured I better start getting in on the action and what might be a veritable goldmine of intellectual property.

I've been thinking about what makes for interesting blogging that will draw advertisers so I can quit my day job. I'm on at least 5 different industry blogs, none of which are all that engaging, but none of them are about food, sex or alcohol, so maybe that's why.

Being that those items mentioned above are the three tracks that occupy my brain, I'll add media to the mix and serve. We'll start with food:

I work in mid-town, a mecca of tourists and business people alike. I like to buy my lunch, but I don't like spending a lot for this particular meal (who does?). I once had an idea to make a $5 Faves list of all the places around my office you could get a good lunch for $5. There were two places that made the list.

Without spending $20 a day, I find myself constantly exposed to the same lunch options day in and day out. Let's review:

Salad bars - 10 dollars for 5 ingredients I can buy at home (but don't) or the open buffet, onto which someone once sprayed a bottle of urine and feces. It was on the news.

Paninis - I can only eat so many hormone stuffed chickens a week

Chipotle - so I can stand in a line for 40 of my 60 minutes

Street Meat- Not to be trusted

Pizza - I wish I could quit you

Here's a million dollar idea for anyone that can follow through with it: Have you noticed that there are NO Mongolian BBQ restaurants in the city? I just did a Google map based search for one from my office. The closest one is in Saddle Brook, NJ! WTF? I mean I love the stuff, but not enough to leave the island for it (and I'm not one of those people that have Gilligan's Syndrome and think that dating someone from Brooklyn is a long distance relationship).

Needless to say, I've been desperately trying to bring my lunch.