Life's Not Fair

Along time ago (2001), in a galaxy far, far away (Central New Jersey), I was engaged to an *sshole. Of course, at the time, I didn't recognize that he was an *sshole, but hey, hindsight is 20/20, isn't it?

I guess I was a whole lot more gullible at that point in my life, and so I lent said *sshole quite a bit of money. And now, 6 years later, I am in a protracted legal battle to get it back.

Tell me exactly how someone gets away with a blatant disregard for the law? Or how financially irresponsible you have to be to sell 3 buldings at a huge net profit, and still be on the verge of bankruptcy?

Or how it is that this *sshole owns his own home, while I'm living paycheck to paycheck, and cutting out non-essentials like, say, taking taxicabs or buying new clothing for work?

It's enough to make you completely bitter. Or give you an extended case of heartburn.

Channeling It

My stress levels are not to be believed right now. Everything is really exciting, but just...a lot. And I need somewhere to put it. And B would probably prefer that it's not all on him.

Possible targets:

- Anyone, really, on the NYC transit system. Especially that lady who shoved past me as I stepped off the 1 train (to let passengers on, as directed) and grabbed my seat. MY SEAT.

- Our current building management company, who will not bend regarding our lease, which ends while we're away on our honeymoon, forcing us to move BEFORE our wedding, thus forfeiting part of our rent. The lease office is next door. Do you think they can feel my hatred while I glare at them through the wall?

- Real estate brokers. I've had just about enough of the high pressure sales tactics, non-negotiable fees, lies regarding square footage, etc., etc., etc.

- The construction right outside our window, especially what with the pounding and sawing at 7 am.

- The various wedding beauty vendors who believe that, because I am paying them, they are able to freely offer their opinions on my appearance. I've received feedback regarding my "thin" hair, "round" face, "misshaped" eyebrows, "lack of" cheekbones, "too wide" forehead, "large" hips, and "short" legs. Thank you!

- The New York State board who is dithering about the requirements needed for the next stage of my social work license.

- My former union, who hasn't gotten the word that I was LAID OFF (even though they promptly ended my benefits in July) and leaves voicemail messages, exhorting member "brothers and sisters" to rise up on any number of issues. Union now, my ass.

- Presidential campaign. 'Nuff said.

Bitz and Pieces

1. Had my first bridal shower this weekend with my relatives in Pennsylvania. Even though it was small (12 people) I was still flustered at being the center of attention. Also, I was very emotional, especially when receiving gifts that my grandmothers had made (they are both deceased).

Conclusion: I am going to be a soggy mess on my wedding day.

2. B and I are moving on October 15. Among our friends, this statement is met with "Cool! Where are you moving to?" and the answer is - we have no fucking idea. Apartments that are available on October 15 don't come up until October 1. So it's a big ole mystery to us. Which is kinda fun. Not.

Conclusion: This is not the excitement that we need 10 days before our wedding.

3. Instead of walking around in a perpetual rage re: Republicans, I can actually do something productive. Which might involve traveling to swing states to canvass undecided voters. How I'm going to fit that in with all the other stuff, I also have no fucking idea. But I think it might be more important than, say, obsessing over cocktail napkins.

Conclusion: I gotta do something.

4. September health month is going well, in that I haven't had any alcohol.

Conclusion: I picked a bad month to stop sniffing glue.

5. The Today Show is neither "news" or a "program".

Conclusion: Discuss amongst yourselves.

More Of The Same

(Btw., just as this was not to become a wedding blog, it's also not to become a political blog, as there are others who can do it so much better.)

That said, has anyone seen those McCain/Palin "new mavericks" commercials? They make me throw up in my mouth a little a lot.

Newsflash: Maverick = Cowboy.

We've had a fucking joker in the White House for the past 8 years who thinks he needs to prove something like he's in the Wild West. McCain and Palin have already demonstrated their philosophy - check out their negative, snide, and nasty speeches during the RNC.

Just so we're clear - I don't want to be able to have a beer with my president, and I don't want this country run by some out of control radical who proves his unsound logic in his choice of running mate. (And who also resembles, more and more with each passing day, Old Man Withers from the Scooby Doo movie.)

The Word Today On Sarah Palin

She's a maniac.

And not in that fun Michael Sembello/Flashdance kinda way.

Lipstick On A Pig

Sorry to tell you all that I am full of rage this morning.

(On second thought, I'm not really sorry.)

Is the McCain campaign fucking kidding with this bullshit???????

I wish I could be more articulate. I'm just so, so angry. It is insulting to me that gender politics are being used by these conservative assholes to further their own agenda. How about keeping your policies out of my goddamned uterus? Let's start there.

Ahem.

Off to contribute, again, to Obama/Biden. And in the meantime, this is worth checking out.

SARAH PALIN DOES NOT SPEAK FOR ME JUST BECAUSE SHE HAPPENS TO BE FEMALE.

Over Re-Actor

Anyone get as annoyed at this commercial as I do? How would this woman respond if her kid fell and had to get stitches?

Dear People Who Stayed In Our Apartment Last Week

I hope you enjoyed your stay in New York City as much as you enjoyed eating all of the expensive Greek yogurt and gourmet cheese that we left in the refrigerator.

I'm just wondering why, exactly, it was necessary to move all of my shoes underneath the bed? Or to leave the teapot in the bathroom? Or to use our couch cushions at the dining room table?

Don't get me wrong, I'm completely appreciating the rotting grapes and dead flowers that you left behind, along with the mysterious gooey substance found in the garbage can. And I'm SO GLAD you liked my Gingerman body scrub - apparently, enough to take it with you! It's always fun to discover new products, isn't it?

For our part, we'll cherish the tea stains in our mugs, and the slightly squicked out feeling of not knowing *exactly* what took place last week in our home for years to come.

Cheers!
ridiculouschick and b

Shut It, Brimley!

Perhaps this is a sign that I'm watching a tad too much daytime television, but (at the early hour of 9:38 am) I am spectacularly annoyed at Wilford Brimley's pronunciation of "diabetes".

This kind of thing just might ruin my day.

B.Y.O.F.

One week ago, B and I went to a tasting for a potential caterer for the wedding. And it was AWESOME.

The only issue was that said caterer was about $4000 more than any other caterer that had sent a proposal to us.

So we wrote the next day and explained that we would love for them to cater the wedding *if* they could work within our budget. Which should be pretty simple, given that we provided specific ways in which to reduce the costs (example: eliminate one of the cocktail hour stations, explain why the rental pricing was much higher than other vendors, don't offer sushi, etc.)

When they didn't respond, I called them on Tuesday morning. I spoke with the catering manager, who was very nice, and promised a call back before the end of the day. Which turned out to be a big fat lie.

B called the next day and spoke with the owner, who assured him that we would have a response by the time we left town on Saturday.

Well, the clock is ticking, and needless to say, I'm getting nervous. I believe our guests would like to eat at our wedding. I also believe that if the caterer can't work with us, that it is pretty simple to communicate same.

B, on the other hand, is writing a "humorous" story (for publication, perhaps) about a quasi-bridezilla.

Drat

According to all the bridal magazines, I am waaaaaaaay behind schedule in my wedding planning.

Not only will I need at least 16 months to prepare the ceremony/reception/whatnot, but I should have been dreaming of this special day since...roughly...age 5. And thinking of myself as a pretty princess probably wouldn't hurt either.

Say it with me: I'm a pretty princess! I'm a pretty princess! I'm a pretty princess!

Pending

To all future guests of our upcoming wedding celebration: Save A Date.

Not Save The Date...because, you know, we'd have to have a date and place for you to do that, and that would mean that various locales/vendors would be returning my calls and emails.

But no.

Save a date. Because the wedding is happening, it's just not clear when. Or where. (City Hall/Justice of the Peace, anyone?)

How about you just do me a favor and reserve, oh, say, Autumn 2008, m'kay?

Thanks.

$4.24

This is the balance in my checking account until I get paid tomorrow.

Unless, of course, the 'economic stimulus' payment from the government is deposited early. I have to be honest, though - at this point it's looking less like an incentive to help the economy, and more like me being able to buy lunch.

(I guess it teaches me not to be the tough guy that decides to pay for everyone's drinks at trivia night.)

Perfectionism

In typical ridiculouschick fashion, I've gone completely overboard with Passover. What started out as a simple catered meal has turned into matzoh ball soup (including the chicken stock), potato casserole, charoset, roasted asparagus, and macaroons - all homemade.

Oh, and we'll also be roasting a chicken because The General is afraid we won't have enough food. (If pushed, I can admit that I'm afraid too.)

Cooking, and trying to make things perfect isn't new to me. But it's hard to know what I'm aiming for because I've never made most of these things before. For example, matzoh balls: should they be small? large? chewy? al dente? When asked, B shrugs, grins, and starts singing the "we should have ordered from Zabar's" song.

Pft.

Next up: attempting to bring the apartment to levels of cleanliness that it has never achieved before.

I've Changed

This morning, I found myself completely aggravated and frustrated because I didn't get a seat on the shuttle bus.

Reread that.

Perhaps I should have been celebrating the fact that I can step right outside my building and board free transportation which takes me directly to the subway (the station even has an escalator that I refuse to walk down, because... I'm lazy I have my reasons).

Or that I now have doormen. And an elevator (3, in fact).

But no. There I was at 8:31 am, rolling my eyes, tapping my feet, and muttering to myself. Unbelievable.

The girl, apparently, has been taken out of Hell's Kitchen.

(And this post doesn't even address why I didn't get a seat, which was because I was late going downstairs because I took some extra time this morning whining to B about being crampy and not wanting to go to school or work.)

Kaboom!

Dear Guy Who Almost Plowed Into Me While I Was Walking Through Union Square Because He Was Looking At His Blackberry, And Then Didn't Apologize For The Near Miss:

I hope that message was important. Fuckface.

xoxo,
ridiculouschick

Where's 'Terrible Terry Tate' When You Need Him?

Dear Drunk English Tourist Heckler at New York Comedy Club:

Next time, shut the fuck up and let the comedians do their acts. I don't care "how comedy goes" in England. Seriously. Shut up.

xoxox,
ridiculouschick

Observation

Not to get all...Rooney-esque on you guys, but has anyone seen the Cymbalta commercial? Cymbalta is some kind of drug for treating depression along with its somatic side-effects...but I wonder about the marketing strategy.

Basically, the commercial voiceover states that depression 'hurts everyone' while the accompanying montage is of kids, pets, and spouses looking on sadly. Just in case you're not getting it, the music consists mainly of minor piano chords.

If I were clinically depressed, I'm not sure that being reminded of how much my depression sucked would be helpful in driving me toward treatment options.

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?

Yikes

I am so tired today that my emotions are bordering on the irrational. Which happens even when I'm not tired, but it seems especially apparent today that I am ready to burst into hysterical tears/laughter at any given time.

I've been at work since 7:00 am, teaching three classes in a row to seriously bored 8th grade students about 'Relational Styles: Aggressive, Passive, Passive-Aggressive and Assertive', followed by a school staff meeting, 2 counseling sessions with clients and a conference call. And blah, blah, blah...cry me a river, because this is the job that I signed up for, but I'm also trying to cover our hotline because we have 3 staff members out of the office, along with returning the gazillion phone calls and emails that built up over the weekend.

Adding to the stress, we got word today that our temporary supervisor (who's been 'temporary' and a 'supervisor' since January) is quitting in less than a month. I wonder how much longer I will have a job here.

I suspect that heading to the gym and running will clear out my head a bit...but I'm equally convinced of the worth of going home and planting my ass on the couch with a pint of ice cream and a silly movie.