Tuesday, January 31, 2006

loooong days

I made up a song that goes something like this, "Loooong Day. It's been a long day. Looong day. It's been a long day." And somewhere in the back ground, Courtney laughs. Of course, it sounds much better than it reads.

I've been a delinquent blogger again, which means that classes have begun. I've got another semester of stats but a bio class as well. And in truth, when I'm not in class, I've been spending my time with the boy - who I think can now graduate to 'my' boy despite Courtney's pleading to "not rush into things so fast!" She hates to see her friends get hurt. oh well - the potential for that was there from the beginning. This foolish heart of mine has never listened to reason so well. But it's amazing what a dose of 'boy' can do. This past week, I've had half of my possessions "accidentally" thrown away (I think I've lost roughly a thousand dollars worth of stuff) and bills up the something not so good. And still. You can hear a little jingle about my "looong days..." and a giggle not so far behind.

Tuesday, January 24, 2006

on happier changes

So I finally rolled myself out of bed to hop in a cab going uptown only to find myself downtown. After the cab driver and I exchanged a few harsh words, we were back on track and forty five minutes later, I reached my new home. I started unpacking and the amount of space I have to work with is unbelievable. I have two closets, which is a very big New York deal. And my roommate and I chatted for a few hours last night. She's very cool and very hip and cooler still for being able to give me fifty percent off of a ton of make-up and beauty supplies. She's an aspiring hair stylist with lots of suggestions for my hair. I already "earned" myself some fancy hair products.

Monday, January 23, 2006

changes and instabilities

I'm lost and feeling rather ungrounded. I just want to lie in bed all day and listen to the rain fall from the sky. There are busy lives being lived outside these walls, but I'm fighting to keep from starting mine. Classes begin tomorrow. Reports are due and roughly a dozen externship applications need to be mailed by Thursday. And I feel homeless. Given my financial situation, I was forced to move out of my little upper west side studio and into a larger upper, upper west side apt with roommates. My life is lying somewhere up in harlem in boxes strewn around a foreign place.

It's funny. From the time I was born until my junior year in college, my mother moved 11 times. It has always been a running joke amongst family and friends. I think that in part, this is the reason why my siblings and I have always been able to pick up and move across country without much thought to reason or across the world to begin new lives. Home has always been a feeling that lingered somewhere in the suburbs of Philly rather than a specific location or address. But now I've lost my place - my specific address. And I'm sad. I just want to throw myself on the ground have a giant tantrum. But really - who has the energy these days?

Friday, January 20, 2006

The Carrie of the Group

When all my friends started to get married, I freaked. It's not that I wanted to get married, but I didn't want to be left alone. I knew that I still had a few years of being single in me yet. It's been a couple of years now and I think I've gotten past most of my fears now. Still every once in a while you get one of those emails from a friend...This is a snippet from one of my friends for almost ten years. To clarify, no offense was taken. Raul and I both chuckled heartily, but I thought it might be fun to share.

"unha, i wish you and jeff the best even though you don't need it because you guys are perfect. and june i miss our married girl talks but now you can talk to unha and anna i really am sorry that i won't be there [for your wedding]. i feel like i am missing the biggest thing in our lives! and beccup, i envy your dating life. not the boy part but the going out part. i am proud of the carrie of our group."

I often get that. For some reason, my friends relate episodes of Sex and the City to my life. But I really am far from it - no fancy parties, no glamour filled job, and certainly no long line of men waiting to take me out. Just one. And truthfully, I find this "boy part" of my life rather exciting. I think it should be envied. No?

Thursday, January 19, 2006

indicators of chaos

1. I'm moving in four days and haven't even packed my stuff. And I just found out yesterday that my roommate to be is turning 21 this weekend. I think I stuttered something like, "What? I mean, uh - congratulations."

2. Tuesday while waiting in line at the post office to mail in the final portion of my fellowship application, my car was involved in a "hit n' run". While everyone was screaming, "Whose beige car is that?!?" I chose to close my eyes and ignore it - hoping that if I didn't acknowledge my misfortunate, it didn't actually happen. I may have reacted too casually but the police gave the man enough words to speak for the both of us. So I saved my energy. Besides I needed those words for some others.

3. Wed morning 4 am, my apt buzzer starts going crazy again - for the third time in the past four months. I left tired, cranky messages for my landlord and two supers, who were less than super. The ringing stopped sometime around 7 am, but somehow I still managed to fall asleep with the help of three thick pillows surrounding my head.

4. And I can't seem to remember if I'm a supposed to be studying something. I am a student, right?

5. It's been five days since I have had toilet paper in my apt. I keep forgetting to pick some up. Now I'm out of kleenex as well.

6. Yesterday, I "found" an old Startbucks latte sitting on my desk from last week. It had turned into some sort of espresso flavored cheese. It smelled really bad and I gagged while pouring out the contents into my toilet.

7. I'm afraid to look at the milk sitting in my fridge.

But the really, really odd part is - that I still feel strangely grounded. And well, happy.

Tuesday, January 17, 2006

the way to a man's heart

For me, the way to a man's heart is not through his tummy. I woke up in the morning and very sweetly said, "Shall I cook dinner tonight?" The offer should have been refused but the boy naively responded, "That would be nice." Two burnt pans, four smoke alarm screams, and one ruined kitchen towel later, dinner was served. I woke up with sore arms from having waved a towel underneath the smoke alarm for thirty minutes. I fear that as he gets to know me little by little, I become less and less impressive. Good thing he has a sense of humor that can match my own and a politeness that is beyond polite. He even had seconds.

Tuesday, January 10, 2006

two stories of the men in my life

I haven’t heard from a male friend for a while. A male friend who is also considered an ‘x’ I guess. A few days ago, I went over to drop off some flowers to recognize an important day for him. And as I rang the buzzer, I had a funny feeling. I had called a little earlier and got no response. I figured he was at work and I would just leave the flowers at his door. When he answered with an, “oh hi….” You know - with a greeting that was drawn out, almost intentionally as if to stall for time, that funny feeling became a bit greater. When he took an extra minute “fussing” with the lock, I should have run. But I panicked and stayed. And there we were – two old ‘lovers’, one with a bouquet of flowers in hand and unfortunately looking awful since she decided to forgo a shower for the third day in a row and another with that disheveled look of just having thrown on whatever pair of pants that just happened to be lying around from the previous night of somethin’somethin’. Oh, and lets not forget the third party – his partner of somethin’somethin’ tucked away under the covers less than two feet away. I don’t know what my mouth was saying but my head was screaming, “Awkward!” And within thirty seconds, I was down the stairs repeating, “Don’t fall. Please don’t fall – that would be worse!” And when I got home, my friend said, “hm. I wonder if she thought you were trying to get back together with him.” Great.

So old lovers find new ones.

On Sunday night, I had my first date with the boy. I guess he’s not really a boy but I haven’t figured out a nickname for him. Maybe I can get a little help after this entry. Anyway, it was simple and sweet. He was away for the weekend, snowboarding with a friend, and took me out for a late latte when he got back. It was fantastic filled with one long four-hour conversation. By one am, he walked me home and I was enamored. Scared out of my wits as I so often am these days, but pleasantly charmed. A few minutes later, he texted me about not wanting to leave and despite myself, I giggled like a schoolgirl. We had our second date the following night. He called after work just wondering what I was up to. I frantically called my sister and together we decided on an outfit, which no matter what, I hated...(edit, edit, edit) Later in the evening, we sat by the Henry Hudson and began to chat like we did the night before. And as he drove me home, he quietly said, “I like you.”

Sunday, January 08, 2006

wedding wonders

I hadn’t seen Sam in almost five years. He looks at me and says, “God, you’re still the same girl as you were in high school!” I laughed and lamely replied, “Oh Sam, just call me by my first name. You don’t have to be so formal.” The same GIRL I was in high school? Just last week I was writing about feeling like the oldest 27 year old in New York. And as I was looking through the pictures from last night, I still can’t help but wonder – what the hell is that boy talking about?


And so another one of my girls has gotten married.

It was a lovely wedding, complete with blushing bride, weeping maid of honor, dancing Korean ah-guh-mahs, and a very hip little Japanese girl named Anna from London, who kept saying “bloody this” and “bloody that”. I wanted to be her. Instead, I sat next to her making one social blunder after another. I even introduced myself to the guy sitting next to her and gushed about his toast. After a few second of blinks and blank stares, it hit me. I had asked the only other white guy at the party if he was the best man. Of course I had to announce this to the table immediately after and suffered the consequences, which were only a few pokes and jabs. “See that guy? He’s the waiter. That’s not the best man either.” You know. That sort of thing. Oh and I caught the bouquet again.

Beneath this demure exterior lies a vicious tigress. roar.

All and all, it was a great night and I was thrilled to see old friends and make new ones. Except that when I got home sometime around 1, I dropped into bed and sighed. Yup, tomorrow morning (today that it is), I would need a true beccup day. I’ve been feeling so over worked and burnt out lately, always needing to be “on”. Time to turn off for a while. Oh lordy – with that joke…I’ve been off for a while now.

**by the way, for those interested and haven’t yet figured it out. If you want to see other pictures, click on one above and it’ll take you straight to the “set” I’ve created for this night.

Thursday, January 05, 2006

bye bye bellybutton blues

Did I forget to mention that after seven years, my mother finally found my belly button ring? This also included the time she jumped in the shower with me last summer while away in the Hamptoms. Koreans. No sense of boundaries.

It was a few weeks ago, during my nephews Dol. Jenn kept telling me to be careful because my sweater didn't quite cover myself so well, but I shrugged her warnings off. And right there, amongst all her guests and celebrations my mother gets all big eyed, stares at my little ring and says, "daughter, what have you done?" Nervously, I laugh and say, "Well - Raul needs a ride back home. Gotta go!" When I got home, I declared to my sister, "I'm 27. I'm not going to let mom get all crazy on me just because she thinks the devil's got a hold of my soul through this damn thing." Of course, I make these declarations as I rapidly yank out the ring. And for all of you secretly judging my wusiness. I would have told her about it earlier except that when I asked to get a second ear piercing in high school, she screamed, "If you get a piercing there, you will get one everywhere and your spirit will leave your body!" Honestly, how do you argue that?

Anyway, she was strangely mum for a few days. I expected a major blowout and when none came, I expected the worst when I got back to New York. So far though, we've only had one phone conversation that went something like this:

"When did you get it?"

"A few years ago."

"A FEW YEARS! You were my number one, bestest, most spiritual daughter. Mommy is so disappoint!"

"Mom, I'm so sorry but it's not a big deal. I bet half the girls in your church have one!"

"It is a big deal. YOU MIGHT AS WELL BE GAY! It is the way to becoming lesbian. How many earing you have? Do you have tattoos? I will never look at your sister's tattoo. Mommy is so disappoint! You better pray hard. Hang up right now and pray to God." Click.

Actually, over the holidays, I made a joke about marrying my bellybutton. She got pissed and yelled, "Cancel!" I laughed and said - ok, ok, I married Jesus.

oh momsarama.

Wednesday, January 04, 2006

comments that make me question my hetero-sexuality

I eavesdrop. If you are sitting next to me on the subway or chatting on your cell phone in passing on the streets of Manhatten, chances are I will be listening. Pay no attention to my averted eyes or the headphones I'm wearing. I simply can't help it. I'm nosy. These are a few comments I've overheard pass through a few guys' lips. Statements which I say again - make me question how it is that I keep from being a lesbian.

"dude, so I started hooking up with this girl at the party last night (it was new years eve). she was kind of big though - you know. big. but then brian told me to just take what I can get so I did."

"YEAH! so I was like acting like a bitch, but not an asshole type. Just a bitch."

"she was all legs but no face. good thing I'm a leg man."

What planet are these guys from? But a bit of saving grace for that 'species' - for the time being that is. I had a lovely conversation with the boy I met on new years day night. And he sent me a very sweet email this morning...

Monday, January 02, 2006

A new years weekend

I am no longer going to act so childish. This is my New Years Resolution. I am now 27 - late twenties. It has been confirmed by one of my fellow NYeve revelers. As he was telling a tale about roommates, he scrunched his face and said, "you know though - they're LATE twenties." The scrunch told it all. Still, I think I was the exception and for a brief moment, we were in love. My young gay lova and I.

We started out with a few drinks at a friends place, then rang in the New Year at my friend's good friend's boyfriend's best friend's rooftop party in the lower east side. We were a nutty group of seven amongst an older crowd of couples. The space was great and the drinks were plenty. A movie screen was set up on the roof deck and the copulating bugs being played made for great conversation. And when the lady bugs made it, we naturally cheered and hollered. We also developed friends with other revelers on neighboring rooftops. Sometime around midnight, we celebrated the new year with four different countdowns.

Ok. I only met this (above) couple that night but I think the picture is super funny.


The above picture is the famous Leah pose, who manages to close her eyes in 98 percent of the photo's. Ironically, her eyes are opened when we all agreed to close them. She's even failed many coaching sessions from friends on how to keep your eyes open in photo's. Then we made fun of the "crab dip" that managed to find it's way on Leah's glass.

Sometime around 1, we head over to start the new year with a bit of singing at a local bar. Somewhere in between, my left boob decides to pop out for a quick hello and I fall down the stairs. Sorry no pictures. But here's a few of our singing sensations.




Despite the Kareoke DJ Master's (whatever it is you call them) pleading for me to stay a little longer, I rubbed his little belly and said, "My love. I'm getting too old for this shit. It's near 4 am and I'm going home." But I did stay to sing one more song. Like a Virgin. The next day, I met Jay for lunch in Soho then headed back home, still hungover, still tired, and feeling old. Later that night, I had some friends over for more drinks and a few finger foods. We were all exhausted but laughed our little hearts out. And I met a boy.

All in all, it was a nice weekend filled with surprises that began with two of my best friends who suddenly popped in for dinner at the restaurant where I work on Friday...I need a nap.