City Wendy

Total Randoms

1. Jesus, I'm sick of myself. Ever since I moved here (two months ago today), I've been pretty much unemployed, with the exception of some freelance work and a brief stint as an office temp that left such a bad aftertaste, I had to bathe in lisertine. That means that with the exception of weekends, evenings, holidays and the days I hosted out-of-town guests, I've spent nearly every minute alone. So much alone time is starting to drive me insane. It's enough to make me question all the years I've spent fantasizing about working from home fulltime. If this is what working from home fulltime is like--except, you know, with actual work--how on earth will I manage to stay sane?

2. Because I'm home alone so much, I've been watching a lot of daytime TV, a fact I'm not exactly dying to have tattooed on my torso or anything (Do you have any idea how much Celine Dion I've had to endure on daytime TV lately, btw?). I've been watching about 3 hours of the Today Show every morning--even up to the 10 o'clock hour when Ann Curry goes more mental than seems humanly possible. Then I flip over to Ellen at 11 and then at 12 when Drew comes home for lunch, I quickly turn on NPR and throw down my yoga mat and pretend I've been intellectual and healthy all morning long. After he goes back to work, I spend the rest of my afternoon surfing the net and calling it "looking for a job."

3. I decided so much TV and internet has turned my mind to mush so I went to the library today and finally got myself a NYC library card. Then I checked out 4 books:
The Subway Chronicles (on the dedication page it says, "This book is dedicated to the city of New York," so it seemed a good one to read
blink:The power of Thinking Without Thinking (which is good since my mind is all mushy and I'm incapable of deep thoughts tese days)
The Year of Magical Thinking (by Joan Didion) because the title anyway seemed to complement blink and because Joan Didion is something of a marvel 
Possible Side Effects by Augusten Burroughs (because all his other books made me Laugh Out Loud)

4. So, I'm sure it's probably stress-induced or something--what? You think watching all this TV and reading blogs all day is stress-free??--but I've got this weird little dry patch on my scalp close to my hairline, about the size of a pencil eraser. It's raised like a pimple and did I mention it's really dry? I guess I noticed it a couple of weeks ago running my hands through my hair and didn't think much of it. It doesn't hurt or itch and unless you move the hair out of the way to inspect it, you can't tell it's dry or anything, so I assumed maybe it was a little pimple or something. I mean, kinda gross, but not in a "oh-my-god-what's-wrong-with-me" sort of way, you know? But after two weeks, I finally pushed my hair out of the way and got a look at it and I started freaking out because it wasn't anything I'd had on my scalp before and anytime anything is a little out of the ordinary for me, I think I'm probably dying. Of course, I immediately google searched my symptoms and discovered that I am probably dying of at least 18 different illnesses. But I'm opposed to doctors--unless it's for preventive care like teeth cleaning or pedicures--so I decided I'm going to will away whatever is wrong with me. I did this a few years ago when I had an honest-to-God cancer scare and it worked! My doctor suggested surgery and I said, "Let me try it my way first," and so I did yoga and started running and did visualization and now I am completely fine, without surgery. So I'm trying it again and so far it seems to be working. Also, I got some Vo5 hot oil treatment and rubbed some of that on my hair this morning, and I'm not sure if that has anything to do with the progress of my health, but my hair sure looks shiny today.

5. Last night Drew and I were walking down the street on our way to get burgers and beer because that's just how we do it and we passed this guy I swore I knew. I just couldn't figure out how I knew him. He looked a little like a boy band boy with his chiseled chin and well-groomed eyebrows and so for a minute I wondered if maybe he was someone I might have seen on the cover of some teener bopper magazine or on Perez Hilton for dating Hillary Duff or Hayden whatever her name is from that show I don't watch. I imagined myself running home after our burgers and sending a message to gawker stalker about seeing this boy band boy on the corner of 49th and 8th and he was walking with two other guys--managers maybe--and he looked relaxed and like he was on his way to dinner. And then it dawned on me: He's not some boy band boy after all--he's just some dude I recognize from the comment section of my friend's Myspace page.

People, if it's not clear to you yet, what I'm trying to say is: I need to get a life.

Now and Then

Next Thursday I'm flying back to Chicago for a 3-day visit and I'm so excited that I've been waking up the last few mornings thinking, "Okay, just 10 more days," "Just 9 more days.." and today: "Only 8 more to go!"

It's only been 2 months since I left and I still feel very much in transition here--all my stuff's still in storage and I still haven't starting working a fulltime job yet, for Christ's sake--but in so many ways the two months that I've been gone feel like two years. Well, okay, maybe not two years, maybe more like 8 months. Okay, 6 months. It feels like I've been gone 6 months and when you're only 31, that's like half your life or something. So, I'm excited to get back for a few days and maybe jog my old jogging path and have a Delirium Tremens at the Hopleaf and eat Sunday brunch at Over Easy and try on jeans at The Dressing Room and listen to the juke box at TenCat and, of course, sing Daniel and Dream a Little Dream at Cafe Bong.

Speaking of karaoke, Drew and I have been going to a Japanese karaoke joint in our neighborhood pretty regularly for the last few weeks. It's no Cafe Bong, that's for sure (you even have to pay for your songs!), but there's something familiar and comforting about it, like a little nook I've carved for myself in this big city where I can sit in a small room with a room full of strangers-turned-instant best friends and sing my heart out. A few weeks ago, Drew and I took some friends there and it was the first time they'd seen me sing karaoke and there was something about being in my own element, with a microphone in one hand and a beer in the other, a Gladys Knight song playing from the machine and a video of some Asian city scenes on the TVs, that made me really let my guard down.

I moved here and I was lucky to have Drew, of course, and to inherit his circle of really great friends, but they don't know me like my Chicago friends do. They don't know me through countless nights at Cafe Bong and endless days at the beach and bike rides down the lake front and drunken dinner parties and summer evenings on the back porch and years of singlehood and bad relationships and all those times I thought I might never find the right person. And maybe no one ever really knows you like the people who knew you when you were single. I think there's a real freedom in getting to know yourself when you aren't sharing so much of your time with one other person, and there's a freedom to form deep friendships in a way that might not be as convenient in the early months and years of a relationship.

There's been a real shift in my focus since moving to New York, from the single-girl lifestyle where I focused most of my energy on myself and my friends to being part of a live-together couple whose focus is now more "us" and not "me." And you know, one's not better than the other. I don't think my life is any more filled with love now, necessarily, than when I lived alone in Chicago--I just think it maybe flows through a more condensed channel now and so it feels more concentrated. I don't know. I just know I'm really enjoying this time in my life, of falling in love with a new city and falling more in love in my relationship and being really excited about the future and all the possibilities. But I really enjoyed the stage of my life I just moved out of. I mean, I loved it. And it's so nice that I can live in this one now and go visit the other, and so, I'm excited for my visit to Chicago next week and I hope there are many more visits after that one and that I keep moving forward while holding on to the treasures I've collected along the way and wow, if that's not all an indicator that I've been watching too many sappy holiday movies, I don't know what is.

Over It

You may have noticed that I failed to post anything on Saturday and then I failed to post anything on Sunday and since I was supposed to be NaBloPoMo'ing this month, I am clearly in violation. It wasn't that I forgot or anything. I was quite aware of it all day on Saturday, actually. My sister has been visiting and during the day of wandering around and sight-seeing and introducing her to karaoke, I kept thinking about what I might post. Then I got home and we started a movie (Grizzly Man) and it was still on my mind, what I should post about. I was tired and not feeling creative or in the mood to write. It'd been a long day of cruising around the city and I just wanted to shut my mind off, drink a beer and watch some dude get eaten by a grizzly bear. I thought about writing a little haiku about it, or making a short list of what we'd done that day, or you know, something equally as interesting and exciting  and entertaining for all of you to read on your Saturday nights and then I thought, "what's the fucking point?" And so I turned off my computer and drank a beer and watched some dude get eaten by a bear instead. In bed as we were drifitng to sleep, I whispered to Drew in the dark, "I didn't post anything on my blog today." And he said, "Good for you. Who fucking cares?" And it felt so good to hear, I drifted to sleep so soundly like a baby and decided to skip posting the next day too!

So in conclusion, NaBloPoMo is not for me. I did enjoy writing more frequently, but like unanswered emails or one more annoying thing on my to-do list, the daily post just made me feel like there was another thing hanging over my head all the time, and really, a hobby shouldn't feel like a chore. You may also guess correctly that I am the kind of person who, if about 25 pages into a book, I'm still not enjoying myself, I close the fucking thing and never think twice about it...no matter how many good reviews its gotten. I'm also not shy abotu walking out on movies that suck. I mean, life's too short and already full enough with boring stuff you have to do, why add boring stuff you don't have to do?

So, with no more further ado, let's now return to previously scheduled programming...that is actually not scheduled at all, but will happen spontaneously and when I have something very, very important to say! Like what I ate for lunch.

Shame on you, Target

Dear Target,

I love your handbags and lounge pants and aisles of inexpensive lotions and potions for my face and skin. Your casual clothing section is even starting to grow on me lately. And you know how I feel about your fabulous sunglasses. But yesterday you did something so stupid, so irresponsible, I'm not sure I can ever shop you again, Target, no matter how cheap your tights and bras and wrapping paper are. And also your beer cozies. Oh, Target, why did you have to go and make it so hard to like you anymore?!

Yesterday at the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade you had people on every street corner in my neighborhood passing out "coupon books" for you. And I put "coupon books" in quotes because the book was about 52 pages long and had a grand total of ONE COUPON. Dear Target, ONE COUPON does not a "coupon book" make. I mean, sure okay, $5 off a purchase of $50 or more is a nice gesture and all. I guess. I mean, $10 off would have been more of a gesture, and $15 off would have been awesome--just think of how many eye shadows and hand creams I could have scored with savings like that!--but I digress.

Target, seriously! Was it really necessary to have 51 pages of absolutely nothing--NOTHING, not even little recipe cards or fun trivia or ANYTHING!--in your stupid little "coupon book." I mean, it was Thaksgiving and 60 degrees, which should tell you something about global warming and the environment and all that kinds of stuff we should be concerned about and here you are on every street corner on the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade route with your boxes and boxes and boxes of these stupid little completely unnecessary wastes of paper, oh, how could you?! Think about the children of our future, Target. Don't you care about children??

The next time you decide to make a 52-page coupon book, I expect to see 52 coupons in it. And no more of this chintzy $5 off $50 or more business. I want a savings of at least 20%.

Thank you, and I still think your beer cozies are cool even if you are a child-hater.

xoxo,

Wendy

Gobble Gobble

Hope all of you have plenty to be thankful for this Thanksgiving. Enjoy the day with your family, friends, dogs, cats, TiVo, or whomever else you may celebrate with. And for all you non-Americans who don't get the day off or an excuse to stuff yourself silly on potatoes, pie, and wine, well, sucks to be you, I guess.

Here are some Thanksgiving pictures from NYC:

In The Closet

I wonder if this year, the parents of the final two bachelorettes will be giving thanks their daughters both dodged a bullet this season on The Bachelor?

Prep Time

It's busy around here this week. My friend Chad's been visiting since Sunday night, then my sister comes to town for 4 days starting Thursday, and tomorrow morning, right in between the two, I have a VIJI (Very Important Job Interview). I went to a seminar last week on how to interview well and I've been practicing possible questions and delivery and I think I'm pretty ready. I'll be totally prepared if they ask any of the following questions:

1. If you could invite 4 people--dead or alive--to a dinner party, whom would you invite?
2. Who do you think is most likely to win Dancing with the Stars?
3. What do you like about David Duchovny?
4. What is your favorite pie to bake for Thanksgiving?
5. What's your shoe size?
6. What do you take in your coffee?
7. If you were stranded on a desert island, would you like to have David Duchovny with you?
8. Where were you born?
9. Do you think grey is the new black?
10. Would you like to see a picture of my cats?

A Revelation

I decided today that 'soho' is short for 'so horrible.'

I Guess Some People Read it for the News?

It's Sunday, which means I'm going to go buy a copy of The New York Times and partake in what has become my weekly ritual. Every Sunday--for the last, oh, one week--I buy a copy of The New York Times and immediately flip to the wedding annoucement section wherein, Drew and I play a game. It's called "Will they make it or not?" And the title pretty much sums it up. Each of us takes a turn reading an announcement outloud and then we ask, "Will they make it or not?" The couple last week who met on Match.com and broke up when the guy decided he was dating too many women at once and had to get rid of a few before groveling a few months later and begging her back fell into the "not going to make it" category. The couple who spend their Sundays deciding the fate of other couples based on a photo and a 2-paragraph summary? Well, only time will tell.

Hey, some people have Scrabble and Taboo. We have The New York Times wedding annoucements.

Photo Essay

Here are some pics from the last few weeks: