Thursday, May 24, 2007

Gotta Give it to Rosie

I admire Rosie in so many ways. I think we saw yesterday that Elizabeth Hasselbeck is ridiculous. Her opinions are so unbelievably senseless. And if you google her previous rants, you will see that she certainly had senseless, very unprofessional fights and ramblings, for which she had to be reprimanded by Barbara Walters BEFORE Rosie ever came to the View- August of last year to be exact.

She seriously must be working for Fox news or something similar. Probably just the case of the producers of The View wanting to incite riots for ratings and that's why they resorted to spilt screen nonsense on last day of ratings sweep. If you watch again, you will see that Elizabeth just keeps on persisting with the rant after Joy and guest co-host try to smooth things over.


It just really sucks when people have ulterior motives and hurt other people, even if it just to be right and get their (naive) point across, or even worse- because they are being compensated for it, either in money or notoriety.

Wednesday, May 23, 2007

Real Men Don't Wear Toesies!

I was walking my chihuahua/eskie mix last week when I came across a sight that I haven't seen since the fall, which signaled to me that yes, the summer season with all of its hazy lazy days and casual wear, was definitely upon us. There was a guy walking his dog too, clad in an old t-shirt and some khakis wearing toesies, and then there was another. The next guy was with his significant other and they were both adorning this feminine sandal.

My pup finished her business and I turned to come home, down a busy street usually reserved for locals who board the uptown F train to work. There was a man dressed in black head to toe, black sunglasses, nice suit, good watch, and yet to my astonishment, when I looked down, expecting to see Italian leather foot wear, I saw that he was wearing those hideous summer sandals that men should never wear................and with a suit!!!

Can someone explain this to me? I never liked the humid dog days of summer to begin with here in NYC- but now when I walk my dog during those dog days, I will have to live in fear of the toesie clan, complete with their big, hairy, pale toes. So please guys, think twice when selecting your summer footwear- toesies just do not make a man!!

Monday, May 21, 2007

Good Things Come to Those Who Wait

It came through..............things are finally falling into place.

Thursday, May 17, 2007

Life Choices

Having made many of my life choices when I was just a youngin', I reserve the right to change my mind. Only did my watching the season finale of Grey's Anatomy tonight ignite this thought. I have been down and out lately with my life, our lack of house, lack of funds, lack of where I want to be in life. I was thinking you know what, if I could go back in time and start college all over again, I would go into the medical field. I watched the absolute collapse of poor Christine's wedding, George's career, Callie's marriage, Meredith's relationship, and so on............and I realized that I COULD GO BACK TO COLLEGE AND GO INTO THE MEDICAL FIELD if that is what I really wanted. I could. And it would help provide the lifestyle I want for the rest of my life.

No, this one show did not put me on a path toward complete life and career change. I have been contemplating, mulling, wracking my brain inside and out for months and months, trying to think of what I could do so my kids and I would be happy. My kids are great and they know what I've been going through, what we've been going through looking for a house. My older ones told me that they think I can do anything I put my mind to, but that I should never give up writing completely. They told me that if I said tomorrow that I wanted to move to Africa, they'd go with me, or if I told them I was going to be a brain surgeon, they'd believe it in a second and that I'd succeed. They have immense faith in me, loads more than I have in myself. I surely lucked out because my kids are genuinely good and caring people.

I'm feeling very peaceful, Dave Matthews is playing in the background. I'm coming off of the high of watching Grey's Anatomy- they have truly gifted writers. When Christina said "He's gone...................I'm free", and burst into tears, I was in awe...................of the acting, the writing, and understanding where she was coming from.

So many changes, so many choices for each of us..............and none written in stone.

Tuesday, May 15, 2007

Monday, May 14, 2007

Dee-pressed!

Is there anthing harder than waiting for a job that you really, really want to come through? I think not. Today , it is officially one week past the day I was supposed to find out for sure if this job was mine. Aggghhh..........

My aggravation is furthered by the fact that not yet knowing if this job is mine is holding me up on securing my long-term living situation (house). And this is a big deal- we cannot afford just any house we like in NYC- i.e- we aren't mega millionares. Makes me want to just pack it up and move to Kansas sometimes, although I know the minute I got there and breathed in the fresh air, let my kids run around, and met some real nice people, I would pack it up and crawl back to NYC because I just love it here. I just don't know how much one has to earn to live in a decent area and raise kids here anymore. It's scary. A few years ago if we would have imagined our now combined salaries, we would have thought that we could afford a nice place and had quite a few options. But the housing market went stir crazy and although we have a nice income, are stuck without a house. We have a nice apartment and live across from the park, but still the thought of backyard pools and kids running around freely (how I grew up) is something I have always wanted.

If this job does not come through soon, look out Kansas, I may be headed your way.

Sunday, May 13, 2007

Old Age

I just put in my perfunctory calls for Mother's Day. Got stuck in a twenty minute conversation with an in-law regarding her recent vacation. Not only did I hear what food as available for breakfast,lunch, and dinner, but also what substitutions were allowed, as in "If you don't like red meat, you can substitute the chicken, which is very good. It comes with a hollandaise sauce and carrots. I usually don't like the carrots, and would prefer the green beans but not when they are wilted and they were. I told the waiter and he took them back..........." I felt myself wilting away towards the end and had to hang up vowing to never again ask about her vacations lest I get a full fledged 7 days menu recall.

I started to feel bad about not being able to tolerate what was in her mind a fascinating story, and then I felt bad for her because she really , I mean really looks forward to eating out and recalls everything with painstaking detail about what she ate. I don't think she could have always been this way.

Guilt turned to selfishness and I hoped I would never get that way, dependent on a cheap meal out to be the highlight of my week. I hope to still be writing wonderful novels, and be a vibrant and active old chick, who still loves concerts, movies, and good wine.

I think a lot has to do with how old you feel you are mentally. I've met many an old lady who act and look terrifically young, who are engaged and informed. Mentally I feel like I'm about 25 even though I am 34.

I finally got to see Stranger Than Fiction last night and I loved it. I felt a lot at times like Emma Thompson, even the jumping off the bridge part. It reminded me of my passion for writing and I stayed up for 2 hours after it was over and polished off a chapter based on my first crush.

All in all, a good night.

Friday, May 11, 2007

Still Waiting.......

In case you are wondering what ever became of the news I have been waiting for, the answer is that I am still waiting!!! Of course, in corporate America, things take time. Ughh............. I need to know that I have this gig. I mean I want it desperately and am trying SO HARD to act like I don't, which is probably stupid. Of course, I am lying to myself.

Jobs are so hard to come by- good jobs, I mean. By that, I mean one where you gel with your co-workers, don't have a too terrible boss, still feel as if you've done something productive by the end of the day, AND earn enough to feel valued. I think this is the one I have been waiting for.

So, will post as soon as I know anything. What is your dream job and have you ever had it and lost it? Or are you still waiting ( like me) for it all to fall into place?

No One Reads My Blog......

I know I just started this but I truly have little faith in anyone reading this blog. All this has done so far is take me off my path of real writing- the kind I get paid for. And if anyone out there has taken the time to read any of my posts, first of all-thank you- and second, I think you'll find that I jump from subject to subject, so narrowing down my area of expertise, so to speak, has been difficult. But it's something that must be done.

I have been an editor and writer at family magazines and am currently working on some realistic fiction ( though have not finished up any to send out). I absolutely love personal essay writing and have even considered children's books, having had a brief stint as a teacher.

So , if you could help me out with this, drop me a line and let me know which post you liked the best so far OR which one really sucked. All would be helpful.....................and much appreciated!!

Part 3 of Yuppie Quiz

If you were indignant last week when the local bagel shop ran out of triple tofu light strawberry flavored cream cheese, the deli clerk rolled his eyes at you, and the guy behind scream “Move it along Shirley- go eat some grass in the park and let me get my bagel”, then you are a yuppie, and for your sake and that of your protruding vein by your right eyebrow, I hope the big tofu truck delivers your goods ( quickly!),……………..oh yeah and I apologize for my Uncle Charlie who was in back of you in line that day.

You May Indeed be a Yuppie....read on for Part 2

If you go to Barnes and Noble, sprawl yourself and your family out on the carpeted floor, read books until you get bored, and then go home without buying anything, you are a yuppie.

If you go for a relaxing bike ride in the park on a Saturday, throw on a pair of jogging pants and bring a bottle of water, you are a regular person. However, if you don overpriced neon biking shorts with matching helmet and gloves and really believe that you are indeed Lance Armstrong while going 50 along the bike path, then you are a yuppie and you have probably mowed down a child or two who was innocently trying to get to the playground.

Are You a Yuppie? Part 1

if you haven’t been out much lately and have any doubts to recognizing a native from a transplanted yuppie ( or even worse think you may be a yuppie yourself!!) , here are some clues:

If you avoid Key Food on Saturdays like you would the bird flu, then you are a native. I would rather go shopping at 9 pm any week night during a thunderstorm than brave the parade of yuppie couples invading the space. Yuppie couples with children are there with their young tots letting them wreak havoc up and down the small aisles and trying to reason with a one year old by asking him why he wants to smash the huge jar of pickles on the elderly lady in front of him? If a single guy is spotted there, he is usually on the cell phone with his significant other begging for her to point out the proper wheat germ for the lactose free frosting they will make for dessert. And every so often, while trying to make your way down the cookie aisle, a native gets stuck smack in the middle of a group of toesey wearing ( you know the flat sandals with one toe strap that usually only women wear), long hair sporting young yuppies in training espousing on a particular recipe with great introspection and bewilderment trying to figure out if white flour can be the one bad, bad ingredient in their Veggie surprise lasagna.

Much Like the Plague, Here Come the Yuppies!

Park Slope was once home to the working class. When I was growing up in the 70’s, families (assuming they saved up a bit and held a steady job) would one day attain the American dream of home ownership. It wasn’t a matter of if, only when.

Today, although both my husband and I work, don’t have any outstanding debt, and don’t engage in any extravagance, we are still unable to attain the necessary funds to buy a home in the neighborhood. We have 3 kids and split shifts to avoid the costs of hiring a babysitter.

So what exactly changed and when? Of course the large flux of young urban professionals taking the lunge and making the perfunctory crossing of the Brooklyn Bridge has had a major impact on the old neighborhood and everyone knows this. There have been countless articles, websites, blogs, and plain old street corner conversations on the topic. And there’s nothing new to say really. I mean I don’t necessarily blame these willingly uprooted affluent folk ( much). They do bring a sense of newness to the old stomping grounds, not to mention a deluge of organic produce sections in otherwise old fashioned supermarkets. So what’s all the drama about?

I think one conflict arises when these newbies pretend to know the neighborhood better than the natives. I once mentioned to a colleague and transplanted Sloper, the name of the school my children attend, and said it was in Park Slope.

“But isn’t that on Prospect Park West”, she asked.

“Yes, it is”, I replied.

She began to tilt her head and squint up her eyes and then proceeded to talk about specific boundaries that she had researched before moving here on an online map clearly stating that Prospect Park West is not located in Park Slope and how could I even think it was? It was clearly known as Windsor Terrace. Yes, I suppose the transplanted folk from Connecticut might think they know boundaries because they read them somewhere but they forget that us Park Slope oldies know straight away that Prospect Park West can be considered either Park Slope or Windsor Terrace depending on who was saying it at the time and furthermore did it really matter? I mean if we want to talk technicalities here, I must point out that any one who refers this street as “Prospect Park West” is in fact a relocated yuppie because natives know it has one of three names, “Ninth”, “Ninth Avenue”, or simply “The Avenue”. But I just smile and nod because engaging in a full out war over street boundaries is not my idea of riveting conversation.

I’m sure many of you will identify with this and probably have a “worst yuppie” story of your own. I encourage you to send them along to me- maybe we can start commiseration committee of our own.

Next post: Identifying Yuppies- a Starter course

A Muse Next Door........

I live in a very artsy neighborhood- Park Slope. I love living here and fit right in with the artist/writer/musician groove that runs rampant. There are always several people in coffee shops with laptops in hand, who are trying to make a living out of freelancing.One of my favorite people is my neighbor next door. It seems that whenever I am superbusy and haven't had enough time to dedicate to my writing, I will see him. He's a rather quiet, elderly gentleman and he's always happy. I don't see him too often even though he's next door, but whenever I do see him, he'll always ask about my writing. "How is your writing coming along?" Or 'Have you had any time for your writing lately?'So, of course, after I see him, I always put aside, make time that I do not have to write- even if it's only for a short time. When you have three kids, a day job, and all the various other things that consitute a life, mundane things like grocery shopping or buying gifts, or attending boring parties, baby showers, birthday parties, seem to steal your mojo.Luckily, I have a walking, talking muse right next door, who is always eager to urge me to keep going.

Waiting..............

I hate waiting. I've never had much patience. I hate waiting at the doctor's office, the grocery store, and bank. I hate waiting for winter in the summer, a better paycheck, a nicer living space. I just hate waiting.Today, I am waiting to hear about an important business transaction, which if it goes through will set me on the right track toward a better paycheck and nicer living space. I was supposed to hear on Monday and here it is Tuesday at 7 pm, and I'm still waiting. Maybe I don't want to hear the answer, maybe I'm not ready to hear the answer.I have always been one of those people who immediately falls in love with an idea before it even enters the beginning stages. I have done it again and now I am just waiting in misery to see if it will all pan out the way I want it to.Here's hoping that I not only find out soon, but can also live with the decision.

Couple on 36th Street

I have worked in mid-town Manhattan for the past five years , always within the same 10 block radius. Just about everyday, I pass the couple that lives on 36th Street. Literally on the corner of 36th Street. They’re a young couple. The woman can’t be out her 20’s, small framed with medium length blond hair. The guy has dark black longish hair with a beard and moustache who if seen on the subway could be easily mistaken for a hippy educated type. A German Shepard always accompanies them and more than often lies next to them motionless, under a thick blanket. A frosty or wintry day doesn’t go by without my thinking about them. Sometimes I find myself awake at 2 am on a frigid night, wondering how the hell they are surviving on a NYC corner with only a couple of worn jackets and a few tattered blankets. I worry about the dog- , thinking it must be freezing, and then justifying the breed, tell myself German Sheppards are made to survive severe weather conditions. Everyday, a thousand or more people will walk right by them (me being one of them), and many of them will say “They’re young – they should get a job”, or some other equally rude and pointless comment. I can’t imagine that anyone would intentionally choose to spend their lives on the streets and I doubt the intelligence of these so called intellectual folk in $1000 suits and $300 shoes as they dash back and forth across 5th Avenue to make the next meeting or seal the next big deal. This couple reminds me a line in a REM song, “Not everyone can carry the weight of the world”. It’s now 11:33 pm Monday night and I’m still thinking the same thing- how is this couple doing, how lucky I am, and how is the dog?