Employment 2010

This should be the last Christmas I write poems for people. My brother will be happy to hear that. Hopefully by next time this year, I'll be employed. :) Sigh, employed. Employed means giving real Christmas gifts. Can't wait to be employed. One more quarter of making fake ads before I make real ones. How soothing that word is, 'employed.' How comfy. How grown-up. I know I'm ready. Hope they're ready to hire me. (By the end of March-beginning of April, that is.)

Blind date

A loud-talker. Sounds like a Seinfeld episode, no? Anyway, he was. And I felt bad because how do you tell someone who you just met to use an indoor voice? It's impossible. I schemed of ways of doing so and failed. The bar filled up and still his voice reigned king. The bartender turned up the music to no avail. People gave me looks to shush up my husband. My husband? Instead, I rudely ate the delicious tuna tartare he paid for, and sipped my wine with a lowered gaze. Poor guy. On paper, we had a lot in common; a love for literature, art and food. But he greeted me with a brazen kiss and seemed to think my knee was a perfect resting spot for his palm during our two hour conversation. I smiled nervously and thanked him kindly when the bill arrived. Shrug. That tuna tartare was damn good.

Weird date

This one happened in NY. I don't recall how I met him. I think I was impressed by his Habitat for Humanity deeds, so I agreed to go out with him. I remember I wore stiletto heels and spent an inordinate time getting ready. I think I was just bored. Anyway, I remember we took the train to what seemed like North Carolina. It was close to an hour and I was under the scrutiny of homeless men. "I don't know why I'm dressed like a tramp, either," I wanted to tell them. When we got off the train, I looked around and knew I had left Kansas. I hobbled on my heels behind him, still with positive thoughts that I wouldn't end up dead in an alley. Long story short, he took me to a Walmart. Or was it a Target? I hope it was Target. "I just have to pick up a toothbrush, " he said. A 45 minute train ride to pick up a toothbrush that he could have bought at the Duane Reade (NY's version of CVS) on my block. Alas, there we stood in aisle 3, under glaring lights, staring at rows and rows of Oral B. I haven't worn those stilettos since.

Linda

Randolph, MA movie theater, circa high school (1999?) I have the memory of a gnat. Anyway, my friend Mel drove a few of us to the movies. I sat in the backseat. The parking lot was jam-packed, cars on top of each other. I'm pretty oblivious and swung the door open wide, hitting the car beside us. It left a scratch (I think), so I ran away because I suck at life. But the driver was apparently in his car and got out to confront me. When he asked for my info, my nerves took over and I blurted out, "Linda. My name is Linda." Then I proceeded to give him the right phone number. (Idiot) Later that evening, the house phone rang and I heard my groggy father saying, "No, wrong number. Linda doesn't live here." I stormed into my parents' bedroom and said, "Um, Dad. Linda lives here." For the next few weeks while we settled this dude's non-existent "ding," my father looked at me with total disgust/amusement.

Revamp

Hey all. :) Thanks for following and thanks for commenting. (Clears throat) It has recently come to my attention that my blog is suffering. In my friend's signature no-hold-back, barbed-wired critique, my blog is lacking a central theme (i.e. the glue that holds it all together). I told him that it's a hodgepodge of my many interests. You know, humans aren't one-dimensional. But still, he is disappointed with my entries. He thinks I'm funnier in person and that my blogs aren't living up to their full potential. I just don't think I'm making him laugh enough. (Clears throat) It's an effing blog. Such a love/hate relationship with him, if there ever were one. So it is my task over Christmas to re-energize a few entries. Not for his sake, but... well, for his sake. I don't like disappointing people, after all. Merry Christmas, Nick Chen. The next few are for you. :)

Louis CK

Xmas

In addition to the iPhone, I would like this for Christmas. I'm always cold. "But how can that be when you're from New England?!" Shush, I'm tired of hearing it.

Thxgivin'

I thought I'd be able to get home for turkey and stuffing, but flights, school, and overall life interfered. So... here are my options. Help me pick one.

1. Dinner in the Georgia mountains in front of a roaring fireplace with an Italian mutt perched on my lap. (I'm pretty sure my friend invited me. If not, then I just made myself look like an ass.)

2. Pantless Potluck -- What more can you ask for on America's official day of gluttony? Everybody sheds their pants. And adds the lbs.

3. A nice quiet Thanksgiving with a sweet little family. But is it odd to impose as Orphan Annie?

I'm thankful for all the invites, but I've decided to spend Thanksgiving in Athens, GA (option d) with Margaret and her family. I get to see the house she grew up in and explore her little town. :) Happy Thanksgiving, all!

Mr. M.

I was first introduced to singer-songwriter, M. Ward, in 2006 by an old boyfriend in New York City. We were cooking a Cornish hen in his kitchen to the lovely sounds of, 'Transfiguration of Vincent.' Since then, I've been nothing short of a fan. It's tough to describe M. Ward. Wikipedia says his favorite piece of musical equipment is the Tascam 4-Track Recorder, which he uses to start every song he writes. This could be why I like him. His voice is unique; a little hoarse, a little melancholy, and a lot of lyrical. He's just cool. And he thinks, 'Amazing Grace,' might be his favorite song. Love him.

She & Him

Vol. 2! Vol. 2! When will it ever come out? I love this duo. They're adorable and make the sweetest retro music I've ever heard. Some people (mostly men) find it sentimental and cutesy, but it makes me smile. I never get tired of their album, Vol. 1. And I think Zooey is a better singer than an actress. Thoughts?