Here We Go

I'm beginning to feel like the main character in Memento, since I've taking to writing stuff on my hand in an effort to manage my daily life.


This morning, almost at the finish line of a really hectic work week, I bought a large iced coffee from Dunkin' Donuts. Toasted Almond flavor. It was so big that I actually questioned if I needed that much caffeine. Luckily, the universe took care of that one for me, because I got to work and immediately spilled the entire cup (accidentally...maybe).


I'm going to Ireland in less than a week. Holy crap. I'm going to Ireland in less than a week.


I'm reading Eat, Pray, Love and now I too want to travel in search of enlightenment. But I should really get back to my regularly scheduled life, which includes reading for my trauma class, rather than fun reading. Also which, right now, includes work so I can leave the office on time.


Extra Ridiculous

It is ridiculous even beyond my normal appreciation for the ridiculous that I have to call my boyfriend and establish a 'safety plan' for leaving my work building at night because I'm so freaked out by the spookiness of it now that the other tenants have moved out. I don't use the bathroom here because I'm convinced that someone is going to be hiding in there.

(It's always been spooky - given the sub-basements and the tendency of the facilities people to turn the lights out - but now it's Extra Spooky.)

*And* even given the 'safety plan', what's he gonna do if I fail to answer my phone at the appointed hour? Race over to Brooklyn to see if he can be of assistance?


Feelings, Whoa Whoa Whoa...Feelings

So...all the blood tests for my mystery illness are turning up absolutely nothing.

Bearing in mind that I am a Mental Health Professional (tm The Lawyer) I guess the next thing to investigate is my psychological well being.

(Oh, BY THE WAY - thank you to everyone who checked in with me over the past few weeks, and especially to those who suggested that I might be pregnant. Ha! Wouldn't that have been a humdinger! Look at me! Laughing over here because that is SO FUNNY! See? I'm laughing.)

I'm moderately stressed out, but that isn't anything new. I've been 'moderately stressed out' since about 1997. The only difference I can pinpoint is my thought process, which feels particularly circular lately.

For example, in attempting to leave the house this morning, I could not decide what to wear...internally, it sounded something like this:

[ridiculouschick]: wow, these pants are feeling a little tight. are they looking tight? (attempt to see shape of body reflected in glass of a framed poster.) they are tight. why are they tight? they used to fit, no, they used to be loose. this is because i'm not doing the marathon and i haven't been to the gym in a while. oh man, i feel fat. wait, i don't just feel fat, i AM fat. and why am i paying $55 a month for the gym when i'm not going to the gym? i don't have that money to waste. i don't have money to get new clothes either. oh, and i just bough all those pants at banana republic and now they're not going to fit because i'm fat and i haven't been to the gym. why am i not going to the gym? it's my schedule. i can't go to the gym because of my work schedule. i need to get out of work earlier. but i can't leave work earlier because then i won't have enough clients and then i won't complete my hours to get my clinical license. i should get up earlier and go before work. but i can't see getting up any earlier than i have been, and i'm already exhausted, so that won't help. but i used to get up at 5 am to go to the gym when i was an engineer and i was skinny. right now, though, i'm fat and it's all my fault and...

I can't imagine continuing to read that would be any more pleasant than being the person who's experiencing it, so I'll just end here.


I Suck

I've delayed posting about this until now...mostly because I wanted to tell OrangemanMike (rather than having him read about it). And partly because writing about it makes it real and I seem to love denial. And on top of all that, it's been a difficult decision to make.

But now I'm ready to tell.

So here goes.


I'm not going to be able to run the marathon this year.

My training has been, well, really not consistent, and my body is not ready nowhere close to ready and I'm not feeling great anyway and now I'm in school 2 days a week and my work schedule has blown up, and and and...

The excuses could go on and on, but what it comes down to is: it's just not happening right now.

(Note to self: stop eating as if you *are* marathon training.)



When you're still absolutely exhausted, and don't know what is wrong with you, 'The Internets' is a pretty good research tool.

However, information obtained here, here, and here can be a little scary...

(She hasn't said so specifically, but I'm sure my doctor appreciates my assistance and self-diagnosis. Yep. She does.)



Last night, I met up with LDK at our favorite happy hour spot. So we're settling in, just getting started on our 'agenda' items (we tend to itemize our discussion topics - Virgos!) when I started to feel sick.

And, a moment later, really sick.

I quickly went to the bathroom, where I threw up. Then I went outside to get some air, but it didn't help. I went back to the bathroom, where there was now a line. While I was waiting, I felt like I was going to pass out.

A few minutes later, I found a worried LDK back at the bar. By this time, I was covered with a cold sweat and I was shaking. She took a look at me and overruled my protests that I was okay. We took a loooong cab ride to B's, and I've barely left the house since.

I'm not sure what's going on with me, but I've had to cancel most of my weekend plans (I'm hoping to still be able to go to Philly tomorrow to watch Bons in her first half marathon) including B's show tonight at Gotham.

As usual (the usual meaning a little more than 2 months) the boy has been amazing. Without being asked, he came home from the store with all the foods I was craving, along with flowers and the latest Us Weekly. Now I'm resting, watching cable, eating chocolate chip cookies, and cuddling with the dog. Not so bad...


The Only Pain I Got Time For Is Pain I Put On Fools Who Don't Know What Time It Is

There's just too much change going around lately. Some of it good, some that will be later revealed as good...but the lack of control has me just a tad freaked out. (And seriously, Life? I got it. Nothing is constant. Lesson learned. Enough. )

Terry Tate to the rescue.



As I left B's apartment this morning, still smiling over our morning ridiculousness, I noticed that the construction site outside his building was unusually quiet.

And then I saw the construction workers gathered on the corner, facing south. Some looking at the sky, some looking at the ground...no-one talking.

I still don't have words for that day 6 years ago, so I'm just gonna be as silent as possible.


Meet The Family

(This Monday thing is a rough gig, especially while coming off a weekend of birthday celebrations.)

A few things about my birthday dinner / B meeting my family on Friday:

1) The Peanut was having a bad day. This was obvious from the moment I saw her at the train station, where she greeted me with a languid wave, rather than running to me and hugging / kissing. This sort of behavior continued all night, at one point with her standing in the kitchen, hands on her hips, declaring that this birthday party was 'not good' and that she wanted to go home. I think she's got a lot going on right now - she just started pre-school and my brother/SIL told her this week that they're pregnant with twins (yes, twins!). Oh, and since she's known me, I've never had a boyfriend, so she might've been feeling a little threatened by that (as evidenced by her refusing to speak to B, and asking him directly why he was there).

2) It was really hot on Friday. My father had decided to remove the window air conditioners the weekend before. B now has a new saying: 'hotter than ridiculouschick's parents' kitchen'. It was uncomfortable. He was visibly sweating, then trying to discreetly wipe his forehead with a paper napkin (he told me later that he was worried about bits of it coming off and sticking to his face).

3) As part of our dinner ritual, my family says grace, with everyone around the table holding hands and each saying what they are thankful about. I had prepared B well in advance for this, and, as he is a Comedian, he spent the warning time thinking of smart-ass answers (sample: 'I'm thankful I'm a Jew, the chosen people, by the way, and that I don't have to say grace before every meal'). On Friday, B ended up sitting next to my dad, so he awkwardly took his hand. When his turn came, there was a long pause while everyone waited for him to speak. As I looked at him, I could see that he was worried that his hands sweating and that all the sarcastic answers were floating through his head, blocking any thoughs of acceptable ones. He finally mumbled something about meeting me.

4) Despite the heat, a petulant 3 year old, and grace - the evening went smoothly. B was just about perfect and everyone seemed to like each other.

Except The Peanut. She wasn't liking anyone on Friday. I hope she'll come around eventually.



I'm 35.

And B is meeting my entire family tonight.



Oh Great Googly Moogly

I've been a major asshole since I've returned from vacation.

It's been extremely hard for me to return to New York City after being away. The things that usually don't bother me (crowds, noise, sirens, rudeness) are amplified. During my commute home on Tuesday, some fucktard was sitting in my subway car (yes, MY subway car) openly smoking a cigarette. And no-one wanted to ask him to put it out because he looked a little crazy.

Sigh. The end of summer + minor NYC annoyances + rapidly approaching 35th birthday = ridiculouschick in a very bad mood.

B has been doing his best to weather the storm. After only dating me for 2 months, he seems to have perfected the art of knowing when to give me space, when to make fun of my unreasonableness, and when to listen/support/commiserate. He understands why I'm pushing and testing him, and tells me that my behavior doesn't change how he feels about me. He's patient without being pathetic. I'm only beginning to realize how much he cares about me, which, because I am somewhat crazy, leads to internal freak outs and bratty behavior.

Thankfully, my therapist is back from her vacation to absorb some of the foolishness and once again, point out the ways that I sabotage the things I care about.

For now, it's time to move out of my head and get some work done. Oh, and get a haircut, because B and I are going out to dinner and the very least I can do is try to look good for the boy.



I feel like I've been gone for so long, and a lot of stuff has happened (while at the same time, nothing much has happened) and I don't know where to begin.

Two weeks with the family is definitely too much. Anyone could have seen that one coming, but I had vacation blinders on which precluded all reason beyond 'two weeks at the beach...free'. This being said, most of our time in Delaware was lovely...plenty of sunshine, swimming in the ocean, kayaking, and good food/wine. The Peanut got a little antsy but did remarkably well for a 3 year old in a house of crazy. (And I don't mean crazy in the 'swing from the chandeliers' variety.)

A Brief Appearance in NYC:
As an early birthday present, B got tickets to Rent. This was especially thoughtful since it's my all time favorite thing on Broadway and two of the original cast members (the best ones - Adam Pascal and Anthony Rapp) are performing for a limited time. So, last Friday, I drove up from Delaware and into the city, picked up B, drove to my apartment, unpacked, re-packed (the reason will become clear in a minute), drove back to his apartment, parked the car, and went to the show. The next morning, at 6:30 am, I reluctantly left B again to drive to...

The Librarian and I headed up to Boston for the weekend in my parent's car (woohoo!) to visit L & D (who clearly need blog nicknames)and Honeychild & Big Daddy, and to check out Groomzilla and MS's new apartment. The weekend was just about perfect - I had a strong showing in all eating categories on all 3 days. Highlights include: playtime/cuddling with Miss A, L&D's seriously cute 11 month old daughter, a beach party in Scituate with an amount of food and alcohol which is not to be believed, bouncing on a trampoline at the same beach party, spending much time devising pretend ways for E, L & D's 10 year old son, to pantomime dying (examples: any and all manner of explosions and/or poisoning, killer bees, vicious rhetoric, bad clams), and deconstructing/critiquing Big Daddy's music filing system.

The Drive Home, Tuesday, 6 am:
It sucked, quite simply.

Back at Work:
I forgot how to be a Social Worker. Or how to be a good one, at any rate. Plus, the building where we work has been sold, and we need to be out of here by next Wednesday, but there's no available space to move to. This is just about all I can say about this situation, but it's not looking good.

And since I'm out of writing practice, this post has taken way longer than it should have, and I need to get back to working and owning it (my job, that is).


This Is Your Brain On Vacation

Oh yes, I'm back.

NYC re-entry is challenging, as always. I'll be with you as soon as I get that all sorted out.

In the meantime, thanks to The Lawyer for being an awesome guest poster.


let's say so long, not goodbye

this turned out to be a fantastic labor day weekend. i spent friday night through sunday afternoon with my friend m and her husband j in new jersey. it's so nice to be around people where you don't have to be "on" all the time. we went for a hike in basking ridge at some wildlife preserve. i hope to be able to go there again some time soon. sunday night i went with howard hughes to get pizza at arturo's and then gelato at cones. dark chocolate and coconut. also yummy.

today, i spent the afternoon with my friend, we'll call her vichy 'cuz she's french, in central park. we actually had a really nice time. i've known her for several years but have only ever spent time alone with her twice. both in the last month. i'm not sure how i feel about her as a friend yet. but i have to admit that the conversation never lagged and i felt very comfortable with her. i think i also need to admit that the more i talk to her, the more i like her. we email every day from work and she was very persistent about hanging out this weekend. it's just a friends thing though.

the best part about the weekend is that i walked all three days. 3.5 miles on sat, 2.5 on sun and mon. i'm feeling pretty good. and tonight i could not even get buffalo wings delivered. atomic wings was closed. they have some nerve being closed on labor day.

the absolute hightlight of the weekend though is the murder, she wrote marathon on hallmark channel which i have been watching on and off all day, and have tivo'd most of the episodes. i just love that show.

my sincerest thanks to hrr for entrusting me with guest posting. i enjoyed doing it. it's been a strange combination of confessional and outlet for inane and insignificant life events. i hope you enjoyed reading it. until the next time...