New Roommate

(Doesn't roommate always look like it's spelled wrong?)

One morning, while making coffee, I found some suspicious looking, um, brown objects in my cabinet. Internet investigation leads me to believe that these, um, brown objects are the by-products of a mouse.

ridiculouschick: 'I have a mouse in my house.'
MC: 'Did you really just say that? What are you, Doctor Seuss?'

ridiculouschick: 'I have a mouse in my house.'
DJ: 'You certainly do like to live with the critters, don't you?'

ridiculouschick: 'I have a mouse in my house.'
The Lawyer: 'I'm not coming over any more.'

Further searching leads to more, um, brown objects, a frantic 3 hour cleaning spree, and removal of all food from the cabinets into the (hopefully) impenetrable refrigerator.

Upon LK's advice (and contemplation of MS and Groom's own mouse extermination saga), I purchase the 'humane' electronic mousetrap, which is billed as 'quick kill'! and has a 'flashing light [which] indicates kill'! I spend about half an hour struggling with the batteries, and another half an hour trying to figure out what the 'On' position is.

I think it's working.

I just don't want to hear it working. And I'm not relishing the thought of emptying it either.


Borrowing Again

"Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it."



Nothing Original Today, Lyrics, Tired

'drink up, baby down
mmm, are you in or are you out
leave your things behind
'cause it's all going off without you
excuse me, too busy you're writing your tragedy
these mishaps
you bubble wrap
when you've no idea what you're like

so let go, jump in
oh well, whatcha waiting for
it's alright
'cause there's beauty in the breakdown
so let go, just get in
oh, it's so amazing here
it's alright
'cause there's beauty in the breakdown

it gains the more it gives
and then it rises with the fall
so hand me that remote
can't you see that all that stuff's a sideshow

such boundless pleasure
we've no time for later now
you can't await your own arrival
you've 20 seconds to comply

so let go, jump in
oh well, whatcha waiting for
it's alright
'cause there's beauty in the breakdown
so let go, just get in
oh, it's so amazing here
it's alright
'cause there's beauty in the breakdown'

frou frou


I'm A Slave 4 U

Last night, my Book Club voted to decide which version we would each play in 'Britney Spears: A Retrospective', opening October 31st, 2006.

  • Since R is pregnant, she got 'Matt Lauer Interview/Clumped Mascara/Slumped Shoulder/We're Country'.

  • L is tall and has long blonde hair, and thus can pull off 'Oops I Did It Again/Red Vinyl'.

  • H is perpetually drunk, and will represent 'Las Vegas Wedding/Trucker Hat/Smudged Eyeliner'.

  • The undisputed nicest member of our group, L, is most obviously 'One More Time/Catholic Schoolgirl/Pigtails'.

  • S, with her dark hair and amplified cleavage, gets to 'Almost Drop Sean Preston on the Street/Burst Into Tears'.

And this is how it shook out for me:

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a 35-day appointment with the Stairmaster.



You Tube is the best invention. Ever. Because it allows you to obsess over just how hot Chris Cornell is in every single video he ever made.

Alternately, you can do 'research' for your Halloween costume by downloading Britney Spears. Now I just need to figure out where to get a red vinyl catsuit, and decide exactly where/how I could wear such a thing in public.



Why do I always forget that red wine should more accurately be named 'headache in a bottle'?

Nonetheless, if you have an opportunity to dance with your girls AND a 50-ish crazy Italian man named Fabio (yes, Fabio), you take it.

Even if it means that you will have an agonizingly long Monday...


Empanada Mama

I think I have a new girlfriend.

The Lawyer and I had lunch at Empanada Mama today. She was telling me about her Friday night activities, which included an art exhibit and then dinner with the son of a family friend. The Lawyer said that at certain points in the evening, she felt as though she was on a date. She had wanted to tell him beforehand that she was gay, but never really found that appropriate time.

My suggestion was to lead off with the information. (Walk up to him, extend hand, and say 'Hi, I'm [The Lawyer] and I am a gay American.')

While I was trying out various iterations of 'Hello, I'm gay...', our waitress approached our table to take our order. She heard the sentence, paused, smiled widely at me, glanced at my chest, then looked into my eyes and asked what I wanted. And then she was...very attentive...throughout our meal.

Apparently, in certain establishments in Hell's Kitchen, I'm also a gay American.

Not that there's anything wrong with that.



I have weird food stuff going on.

And no, I'm not talking about my well documented/widely discussed issues with mixing fruit and meat (D might recall my horror when he poured orange juice over a chicken in preparation for roasting, or LK may remember when I proclaimed certain meatballs on my plate at IKEA 'irretrievably ruined' because they had touched the lingonberry sauce).

And I'm also not referencing my tendency to document and monitor what I eat, particularly my protein/fat intake. I realized the other day that I've been dieting, in some form or another, since I was 18.

No, lately, I have absolutely zero appetite. Nothing sounds appealing to me, and the thought of eating an entire substantive meal makes me feel nauseous. So, I'm just really not eating all that much. Which is really strange when you consider that I've also quit smoking recently. And that I love food.

I'm going out to 'dinner' with JP tonight. Perhaps he'll allow me to count vodka and cranberry juice as a meal...


The Report

Today, I, the ridiculous one:

- reconsidered my decision to wear a pencil skirt and high heels when simultaneous emergencies at Dream Job had me running all over the place for about 4 hours. Further deliberation was warranted when the side slit in my skirt tore a bit, exposing more leg than I ever intended at work.

- ate only a protein bar and a cup of oatmeal. All day.

- wrote the 8th draft of my grant proposal and submitted it to my supervisor, praying for approval.

- received an e-mail from The ARH that made me happy and sad at the same time. Sending a reply (thus re-opening the door) scared the crap out of me. But my life needs to be about jumping in rather than shutting down.

- attended an interview so I can begin taking Spanish classes. The teacher began by emitting a rapid stream of Spanish and then looking at me. I told him that I didn't understand, which is why I need to take the class. He ignored this statement, pointed to my coffee and said something else. In Spanish. Using my extremely limited language capabilities, I nodded and said 'cafe mi gusto'. That means I like coffee, right?

- with the help of a friend, shifted my ideas of what I need to do about my family situation, and basically told them that I don't want their half-assed, belated birthday celebration. And I only feel a little anxious about this decision.


Lately, I feel like I'm fighting to protect myself.

Within every conflict, there is a choice available to me. I'd be happy to sit back and let the right way happen along, but situations don't always clear on their own. Sometimes, like, say, when you have a bug infestation, you have to take action. And that action might include being featured in a New York Times article.

Or, maybe, if you haven't been paid by your new job, you might decide to dedicate a day to camping out in the HR reception area until they're sick enough of looking at you that they do the right thing.

But when it comes to personal issues (family, relationships) it's not quite as clear. I'm battling for my own happiness, my sanity, and my self. I'm exhausted by the struggle.

4 years ago, I left someone and something horrible, and I chose to survive. And, shortly after that, chose not just to survive, but to fight. I move back and forth every day with the meaning of this. Sometimes I am strong, and sometimes I feel weak.

But it's always me.


They Call It The Red Eye Because...

I'm back in New York. In my office. I feel like I left a million years ago.

And I'm so tired that it is perhaps quite possible that I did.

The Black Eyed Peas were on my flight home this morning. I texted the news to MC, who suggested that I start singing. I refrained. That's about exciting as this story gets.

Wait, why am I in front of a computer? Oh, that's right. It's time to work.

PS: Today, I have an irrational hatred towards the NYC transit system, MS's wheeled suitcase, and my outfit.


I Left My (Broken) Heart in San Francisco

"My only goal is just to be." - Rent

Ok, well, I'm still here, so I haven't really 'left' it yet, and I'm also not sure my heart is broken, maybe only cracked.

But I need to learn not to underestimate how much less wounded I can feel when I focus on myself. There is something incredibly empowering around flying across the country, spending the weekend exploring a beautiful city (including a walk across the Golden Gate Bridge, which I just got back from), and just letting each day unfold without any expectations about what it will bring.

Last night, I attended the wedding of two close friends. I wasn't sure how I would feel about celebrating love (and wow, how selfish to let my stuff possibly overshadow this event) but it was ok. It was more than ok. I walked into the wedding, single and strong, with a smile on my face, knowing in my soul that better days will come.

And then, with the help of The Fisherman, a dive bar jukebox, and Journey...I rocked the post-reception happenings.


Can't Sleep

Since Wednesday, I’ve been holding myself together. I'm really good at it. I’ve cried, but only at home by myself, or behind the closed door of my office. When I speak to friends, I tell them that I am ok, and then I find ways to make the current situation entertaining.

What I want to do is have a temper tantrum.

I want to throw myself on the ground and scream and kick and wail. I want to be a spectacle. Because you don’t get to hold my hand and look into my eyes and say the things that you've said, then abruptly pull away less than a week later. It’s not fair that you’re starting a new relationship while I’m left holding the terminated possibility of ours. And it’s not okay with me that I can’t say or do anything that will change the circumstances.

I really liked you. I now hate that I really liked you.

Why didn’t I know that the last date, the one where we went a little deeper, the one that convinced me that there was something worth holding onto, was indeed, our last date? I think you knew, and I wonder why you couldn't say goodbye in person.

Perhaps the biggest injustice of all is that I am expected to move through this world as an adult; to accept, grow, and learn from this little episode. It would be so much easier if I could just have a fit and then go on with my day...


Woo Hoo!

There's no better feeling than navigating your way through San Francisco on a beautiful, clear day while the satellite radio in your rental car is blasting the 80's channel.

Oh no, wait. There is. When the rental car happens to be an upgrade from your reserved compact to an mid-size electric blue Chevy Impala, it's fucking great.

That's right, bitches. I said mid-size electric blue Chevy Impala. Word is born.


And Broke

The administrative assistant just came into my office to inform me that my employee number hasn't made it into the payroll system yet. Which means that yesterday was payday for everyone else but me.

Guess who I need to deal with in order to have this rectified? My Favorite Inept Employee in HR.

It's unfortunate that you can't simply will your life to halt while you're dealing with personal stuff. On that note, it would probably be wise to reserve a rental car and find directions to B's house, as I am flying out to San Francisco tomorrow morning.


Taking A Break

It's raining and I feel shitty and I can't seem to write about what's going on without sounding horribly pathetic.

So I won't.


Questions, Questions

All asked today...

1. How was your birthday party?

It was fun. It contained the usual amount of ridiculousness that comprises most of my events. We drank. We were silly. Pictures were taken. Details would probably be really boring if you weren’t there.

2. Did you meet anyone on match.com this summer?

Um, yes. But I can’t really comment because I’m afraid of The Jinx.

3. What is The Jinx?

Well, basically, as soon as I tell anyone about the person I am dating, the relationship ends. No kidding.

4. So, are you dating someone?

Absolutely not.

5. How’s your new job?

It’s a Dream Job and I love it. But it’s a new job, so I have my daily panic about how I know nothing about what I’m supposed to be doing, and I’m really hurting people more than I’m helping them, and that I should probably just move to Montana and raise sheep.

6. You’re a social worker. Do you have any good stories?

Well, define good. There's nothing particularly funny about my job, and if I tell you anything 'good', it will probably bring the mood down. Way down. I think I'll save the entertainment for my therapist.

7. You’re posting a lot lately. Don’t you have anything better to do?

This is a strange period of my life, and my recall isn’t great. So I NEED to post. And no, I don’t have anything better to do.

The 'Fridge Wins!


September 11th

Although we have been made to believe that if we let go we will end up with nothing, life itself reveals again and again the opposite: that letting go is the path to real freedom.

Just as when the waves lash at the shore, the rocks suffer no damage but are sculpted and eroded into beautiful shapes, so our character can be molded and our rough edges worn smooth by changes. Through weathering changes we can learn how to develop a gentle but unshakable composure. Our confidence in ourselves grows, and becomes so much greater that goodness and compassion begin naturally to radiate out from us and bring joy to others. That goodness is what survives death, a fundamental goodness that is in every one of us. The whole of our life is a teaching of how to uncover that strong goodness, and a training towards realizing it.

Sogyal Rinpoche



1. This morning at brunch, I amused myself by thinking up mottos for Honeychild and Big Daddy. And after dashing off many similar sounding platitudes, Big Daddy told me that I was reminding him of a movie called 'Being There' in which the main character's statements are mistaken for insightfulness. When pressed, BD said that he felt this main character might have been 'mildly retarded'.

2. While on vacation, my niece kept describing me as 'simple'.

3. I spent much of my time at last night's party spinning in circles and attempting to deconstruct D's birthday cake.

1+2+3 = I'm not as smart as I think I am.

Ridin' Spinners

I'm seriously considering posting a video of me and The Fisherman playing the 'chair game' tonight at D's 40th birthday party, because it's pretty fuckin' funny. Especially the part where I collide with the refridgerator and can't stop laughing.

But then I'll no longer be anonymous, and that might be a little weird.

Decisions, decisions.



I didn't turn 34 yesterday. I think I turned 12, because I am currently giggling about The Lawyer's 'Penal Law' book, which she has just offered to give me. If that happens, I'll never leave the house...



There's not much to say about my birthday so far, as I am at work, and slammed like any other day.

But I *can* say that I turned 34 at 12:42 am on the downtown 1 train, somewhere between 86th and 79th Streets. And that I can't really think of a more appropriate or celebratory place to be for that moment...



- For no discovered reason, my niece is currently telling everyone that she meets that her name is Colleen. This is not her name. I'm glad she's growing up a little weird. Just like her aunt.

- According to the employee handbook, nose rings are 'not allowed to be worn' while on duty at my job. The ARH helpfully provided legal-sounding rebuttals against removing mine. I think I'll keep him around for a while.

- My family is having some scheduling issues around celebrating my birthday this weekend. I can only apologize that the celebration of my birth will not come at a more convenient time for them. And be thankful that I've assembled a party for myself on Thursday night.

- I just woke from a 2 hour nap. The likelihood that I will be able to go back to sleep tonight without the aid of Tylenol PM is slim.

- I really need to get my iPod fixed. My 40 minute ride into the city on the C this evening was dominated by the loud voice of a large woman awkwardly trying to flirt with her coworker (?) by discussing the meeting they had just attended.

- MC sent me a message this morning to let me know that the lamest bar near our hometown has a MySpace page. I need to 'friend' them immediately.



This morning, as I sat and waited for my clothes to dry, I was helpfully reminded, via the laundromat's blaring radio, to 'hold the line...love isn't always on time.'

Thank you, Toto. Thank you. Truer words have never been spoken. And it's not often that I get the chance to rock out while I do laundry.



As it happens in almost every relationship, my brother and I have our unwritten roles within our family. I hesitate to simplify this as a binary good child/bad child scenario because it's a bit more complicated than that. However, on the whole, our family story will prove that J has always been calmer, more patient, sunnier, happier (my parents still tell the story of our nightmarish trip up the California coastline when I was 8 months old, juxtaposed with J's contented gurgling throughout his infancy and toddler years).

Even as adults, the roles continue. J is happily married, estsblished in his career, owns his home, just started an MBA program, and has a child. I have the weight of rebellious teenage years, a disaster during my first year of college, a broken engagement, and a chaotic life in the city. He conforms, accepts, and carries on; I challenge, rage and push against the familiar. There is a great deal in freedom and constriction in the characters we have chosen/been assigned.

Knowing this history, it always surprises me when one of us steps out of our disposition. On our recent family vacation, J and i were standing in the ocean, talking. It was a clear, beautiful day. My SIL and The Peanut were happily playing on the beach nearby. All of a sudden, J scanned the horizon, then turned to me, and in all seriousness, asked what I would do if there was a tsunami. [Please note, we were not in a foreign locale where this was a possibility. We were in freakin' Delaware, probably the last place on earth in which a tsunami would occur.] He continued, detailing his plan if this should happen: that he would scoop up The Peanut and his wife and run for high land, or perhaps take shelter behind a tree.

And while he was talking, I remembered another sort of history - that my family used to sarcastically call J 'Little Darling' because he was always predicting doom and gloom. Drive over a bridge and he'd ponder its collapse. Take an elevator and he'd discuss the fragility of the cable wires holding the car. Go through a tunnel and, well, you know. He's always maintained that he would lose all of his hair by age 18 (something about male pattern baldness on my Mom's side of the family) and die of a heart attack at age 43 (the same age my Dad was when he almost died of heart disease). J honestly half-expects these tragedies to happen. It's the part of his personality that doesn't fit in with our ideas of him.

Back on the beach, J stopped talking, and looked at me expectantly. I laughed and dove into an oncoming wave.



At the close of my first week of employment, I am exhausted. I haven't slept well at all this week, and it turns out that the afternoon naps that I enjoyed all summer are not a possibility at my new job.

Somewhat crazily, I've agreed to attend the Yankees game tonight with JP - the tickets and 'many, many beers' serving as my early birthday present. I guess I can also consider the predicted torrential rainshowers a gift of sorts...or perhaps an ode to my foolishness.

All I know is that I am going to sleep all day tomorrow.