Buffy the Chihuahua

I'm sorry I didn't get to say goodbye. You were the dog that I never had.

Rest in peace, Buffy.

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn

"As she read, at peace with the world and happy as only a little girl could be with a fine book and a little bowl of candy, and all alone in the house, the leaf shadows shifted and the afternoon passed."

where does the time go?

The title refers to a lot of things. How did I get to this point, a little more than 1 year of being out of college? How did I last this long at LJB? How does the weekend pass by so quickly every single time? How is it freaking almost the end of summer and I barely recognized it?

But the title mostly refers to what Sophie said this weekend. We were a taxi coming back from FAO Schwartz and I was holding a dripping Gatorade bottle in such a way that it was getting all over her leg. I didn't notice until she said, so politely, "Soyu-unnie, how about you not drip your drink all over me?" and pushed my hand away from her.

I almost peed myself from laughing and shock. Where did this sarcasm come from? She's only 2.5 years old. I remember when she couldn't support herself walking and I had to hold her all the time. I remember when she would bang on the computer and piano keyboard without knowing what she was doing. And now she runs and plays the big keys at FAO Schwartz and asks random boys "Can I play?" before she settles down at the pyramid station. And she's only been alive for 2 and a half years.

Where does the time go?

"hey, it's the foreigner!!"

I have about 10 other posts that I finished or didn't finish and didn't post. Perhaps someday I will.

I have mixed feelings about blogging, but I've come to the conclusion that blogging is good for memory's sake. Because I can't write as fast as I type, and I don't always carry my leather book with me.

I went to the beach today and it ended well, with dinner at Joe's Ginger with some new friends. Had a chill night at home, doing laundry. The towels never dry completely so I ran the dryer again, and on the way down to pick them up, the elevator stopped on the 4th floor. I'm in red Haverford basketball shorts and a blue tanktop, with messy hair and glasses. I look hawt. Loud ruckus outside, think to myself, "damn." Dude holds the elevator for the rest of the drunkards and they all pack in, with me in the corner.

Douchebag comes into the middle of the elevator group, lights up when he sees me, holds up his hand for a high-five and yells, "Hey, it's the foreigner!!" So happy to see that I add some diversity to this group of Murray Hill lameasses. I'm ashamed to make myself remember that I was so shocked, I automatically gave him a high five. He then asked me what I was doing, getting laundry? yup. What floor do you live on? ..what? What floor? 7th. The dude next to me asked if I know Chrissy, trying to be nice. No, no I don't. Poor guy, he was trying to make up for his douchebag compatriot but the damage was done and I wasn't in any mood to oblige.

They leave, the douchebag comes back to hold the elevator door open. "I'm sorry." What? I'm sorry for being rude. That's fine, have a good night. You too.

Obviously he regretted saying it, or his friends made him come back. The air palpably stiffened during our conversation. I hope he wakes up tomorrow with a sick hangover remembering what he said. Or his friends bring it up next time they're out and warn him not to be an asshole.

Maybe I'm being prejudiced (I am). Maybe they're not from Murray Hill. They might be from Chelsea.

Being a minority in race and sex is difficult. Not that females are a minority in number, but rather in social standing. Some kid in black shorts and a yellow tshirt grabbed my ass running at full speed at KOP 2 weekends ago. I was so shocked I just stood there, watching him run away from me, his friend laughing and running next to him. He was either really eager or just a really fast runner that it was more of a slap than a grab, but I nevertheless felt so fucking violated. I tried to get my mind off it by getting a new toner from Sephora, but the sales woman was such a dumbass that I got more mad. "Why me?" The friend I was with is so much cuter than me, which in some sick twisted way made me think that she'd be more of a target for that than I.

I don't usually go about thinking about the world and my standing in it through the lens of 'damn, this sucks' or 'this is wrong.' I mean to say that while I definitely do have opinions, it doesn't rule my perspective, ie: feminists. But when things like that happen it's a cold slap in the face, or butt, about reality. I wish I had the BMC rugby team with me to chase that kid down, and some BM women to bite that American's head off. I think I miss BM.

I sound so angry. Maybe it's New York getting to me; I've noticed that I've become incredibly bitchier since living up here. I have next to no tolerance for annoyance. The worse part is that I take action against it when unnecessary and shut down when I should act. I hope to work on that.

On another note, my arms tanned in such a way today that as per S., they look grey, not brown.

cinco de mayo and reality tv

LJB: Do you know what Cinco de Mayo celebrates?

SJG (from his office, way out of the loop) : the BURRITO!!!


I always thought I'd never be caught dead watching shows like American Idol and Dancing with the Stars. I scoffed especially at the latter, and when I first moved in with Scarlett, I thought it was pathetic that she followed the show. Somehow I eventually got sucked into the world of prime time reality television this season and it's now my faaaavorite. Those two shows, along with The Hills, Real Housewives of NYC, The City, take up the bulk of my weekday nights. My other favorite is MTV's From G's to Gents; Mito and Blue, I am SO proud of you!

sigh. sad.

I don't know why I'm writing this, but so I can remember my idiocity later on and hopefully laugh at how funny I used to be... I actually signed up online and used all 5 votes for Shawn Johnson and Mark Ballas. And.. I signed up under Scarlett's email so I can sign up 5 more times.


And with that, I've officially entered young-adult lamedom.

cowabunga dude!

Last night I went to the Tribeca Drive-In for the 25th anniversary of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. I heard about it from someone I met last weekend, and it was one of those random things that I always want to do but end up not doing. But, I got the word out and Minna invited some of her friends to it. It was in the courtyard/pavilion at the World Trade Center (or something..) and I'd never been there before. I don't like the idea of finance, mostly because it's so foreign to me and there's not much about it to like from what I know. There's a sense of coldness and sterility about the field of finance, but I can't argue against its sense of power. And looking around the waterfront pavilion last night, the edifices of that power were so .. grand. I couldn't help but just stand at the corner of this one glass-slated building and stare up. Although I don't really like the concept of design so much (it's gone a little far; oftentimes too conceptual to be practical), it's so freaking effective in that area. I had mixed feelings about it: as nice and important as those buildings are, there are people who suffer in them. Granted, there are people who suffer in every building, but the current state of the economy and the fragility of financial jobs adds an interesting flavor.

And amid all these buildings, next to the water (prime prime prime real estate, OMG-status), probably between 1,000 and 2,000 people came with their kids to watch Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. There was free popcorn, face-painting, turtle masks, costumes, Snapple, and Starbucks all over the place. White outdoor chairs were set up for people to sit, and there was a fenced-off fake grass section for kids to sit in the front. It was cold (~40?) and the wind came in hard at times from the water, but we stayed and watched the pizza-eating num-chucking human-sized turtles til the end. We also sat next to a group of overly-zealous TMNT teenage fans who kept cheering and hollering at every 'cowabunga' and 'duuuude' -- it was 'awwwsomee.'

Such behavior or events aren't characteristic of finance. And yet it all happened in the heart of the financial district. interesting. Last night's event is one of the best uses of public space I've seen personally. It was held in an area that people would otherwise rarely visit and transformed a space that was built for one thing into another entirely. I love this crap; I don't get how others aren't really interested or couldn't give a Splinter's ass (heh..) I want to go to planning school, but is this more a hobby than a career calling? meh.

why not?

I'm the kind of "blogger" who thinks of topics that she would like to blog, not for her audience, but for the sake of thoroughly investigating an idea. For a better understanding of what she really thinks; for catharsis.

But I'm mad lazy and not good with words when it comes down to it. The concepts are easy to come by, but to physically commit words to physical or virtual page proves to be so difficult. I also tend to overthink, which isn't conducive to "spitting it out."

But I'll spit this out. I keep finding myself thinking of things I want to do, and the options are vast. On one hand, the world is mine for the taking; I have no legal commitments that hold me back from picking up and moving to New Zealand or quitting everything and just honing my cello "skill." But there are people in my life I can't just leave, there are other opportunities that I want to look into. So as freeing as it is to have options, it's debilitating. I've been stuck in this rut between obligation and desire, and I can't really decide what fits where. But the words "why not" keep coming to mind.

But I keep thinking of random things that I think I really would like to do or look into. Maybe I can keep this as a list of accountability, and the virtual world of blogspot can be my witness. (It's weird that I'm pretty sure no one at all I know sees this anymore, but it's completely open for anyone to come on and see what I write. Weird.)

So here's the first draft of my list. A few I have already accomplished, which is guhreat:

• Plant and maintain my own garden. Both my grandmothers did it while they were alive, on eastern Pennsylvania soil, and their produce was amazing. It's possible, but I'll have to wait until I have my own plot to plant in.
• Wait tables.
• Sail a boat.
• Slap someone.
• Be a bridesmaid.
• Jump off a waterfall.
• Chop off my hair (think Natalie Portman).
• Go skinny dipping.
• Get lifeguard and CPR certified.
• Fry an egg perfectly.
• And a short-term goal (but quite unrealistic): before the month of April is gone, wake up early and go to the gym ONCE before work.

Eh. I like simple things.