flattery gets you everywhere and rudeness gets your tires slashed. almost.

in 3 weeks, i'll have been working at my current job for one long-ass year. i was told last week that i'd be getting a raise. which made me think, 'is this supposed to guilt me into staying since both doctors know i want out?' i actually told them that although i am worth my weight in gold, the actual job duties i'm responsible for don't necessarily deserve a dollar more per hour. i.actually.said.that. cuz i'm an idiot. yes, the girl who wanted a part-time night job for extra income was objecting to a fucking raise. you know, in print it seems even stupider. i should have known better a year ago when they warned me i was overqualified. but i just took it as flattery and that was my first mistake. not to mention i was dying to leave the family practice i was working at before this. i didn't realize how bored i'd be w/ that much less clinical responsibilities. and yes, i'm sick of feet. anyway... lucky for them, my lack of initiative means i send out about one resume every four months. one of those resumes was sent out a couple of weeks ago and got me called back for an interview. but the soon-to-be-known-to-me-as bitch that heads up HR wasn't able to see me until yesterday. so i arrived at 4:25 for my 4:30 appointment (unusually punctual for me). at 5.02, bitch walks out of her office and speaks to me as if i had been keeping her waiting, then tells me she'll be right back cuz she was in the middle of something and walked down the hall. she returned about five minutes later, but didn't call me into her office until 5:16.
i was outta there by 5:18.
she told me the lab position i was interviewing for had already been filled and i was immediately enraged. why the hell keep me waiting that long for nothing? i asked if someone had been hired that same day or if a decision had been made sometime earlier. she said it was filled earlier in the week. being that she was 'nice' enough to not cancel my interview, i figured i'd return her kindness by simply saying, 'ok then' and walking out w/out saying thanks or goodbye. which is what i did. i only wish i had turned around to give her a dirty look and spit on the rug. seriously. bitch had it comin'. she's lucky i didn't go rick james on her ass. i felt my rudeness was deserved. i probably won't have many chances to do shit like that w/out feeling ill afterwards, so i'm glad i did it. cuz it felt great. yes, i was pissed off; but even after the dust had settled, i had no regrets.

and now it will probably be another 3 months before i muster up the energy to send out another resume. yesterday was like a bad blind date (i'm assuming) and i'll need some time to recover before going 'back on the market.' much to the liking of my current employers, i'm sure. one of the docs 'jokingly' gives me a reason to stay every other day. it's equally pathetic and cute. it's always nice to know you're wanted and they work that angle like nobody's business. damn, i'm a sap.

11/12/06 - Imogen Heap @ Webster Hall

last sunday was my second time seeing Imogen Heap in concert… and she was uh-may-zing! i almost fear that she’ll someday deflate my high expectations of her live show, but it certainly wasn’t this time. she was as jovial and cute as ever. kinda makes you wish she was a teeny bird you can keep in your shirt pocket to occasionally pet and feed throughout the day. like that old guy, brooks, did in ‘the shawshank redemption.’ what? that didn’t make sense to me either. more about the immi show in part two.


so. sunday was rainy. but not when i arrived at penn station around 6:00. i wasn’t to meet up w/ KT until 6:30, so i decided to walk from 32nd&7th to the union square virgin megastore on 14th&4th. (what a total fuckin’ misnomer. when i got there, people were havin' sex all over the place. the escalator’s barely safe to stand on, people. i’m not lecturing you, i’m just sayin’. and don’t get me started on how a condom is waaay slippier than a banana peel. i should sue.) ten minutes into my walk, i decided it was cold enough to get myself some tea. celestial seasonings’ red zinger, to be exact. i found it at some café along the way and took entirely too long fixing my cup while multitasking w/ the beverage itself, the cell phone i was using, and the earphones of the mp3 player i refused to turn off. props to me for holding back my usual urge to take 20+ more sugar packets than i need (since they’re free and/or i may need them later for a macguyver type getaway). back en route to union square, i realized that my hot tea was, in fact, too hot for my bare hand to hold. i hadn’t really looked for one of those cardboard cup partition thingies, but i blame the cup’s manufacturer for making a product that can’t protect its customer from the very item that cup is meant to contain.


i was wearing a new coat that day and wasn’t prepared for how insulated it would be. so i was stewing in my own juices by the time i got to the megastore at 6:35. red and flushed, i found KT waiting for me near the upstairs literary section. she was reading a pornographic pop-up book entitled “in bed by 8, home by 11: a how-to guide on gettin’ some daily.” no, not really. i think it was some book about tattoos. or so she said. i can’t read, so i took her word for it. wait… is there a porn pop-up book?! yo, i got dibs on the copyright! now all i need are subjects willing to let me…


one ms. KT may very well be my latest friend crush. it’s a mild feeling, but it does exist. good times. it likens back to the feeling you got from making a new friend in elementary school when you’re still surprised that someone in the grade above you thinks you’re cool. ‘hey, so-and-so likes me too! maybe she can ride on my bus and we’ll hang out playing sonic the hedgehog ‘til one of our parents gets off work to drive her home. that’d be neat. we’ll be bestest friends forever and ever! (that is, until 9th grade when she starts dating the guy you had a major thing for in 7th grade; and even though you assured her you were ok w/ it, you secretly despise her and her sz 2 jeans.)


we went to some nearby pizza place that surprisingly won me over. kudos to their pepperoni & mushroom slice. it was yummers. i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again… nothing’s worse than bad pizza (well… just about). but, of course, you finish every last morsel of that bad slice since it’s still pizza. raise your hand if you’re a slave to melted mozzarella. ok… now with your hands still in the air, raise something else and maybe i’ll let you be in my pop-up book.


good pizza. good conversation. more good times. we left for webster hall and arrived there around 7:42, i think. to be more precise, we arrived on the same block behind webster hall and saw how long the line was. they were all there waiting to take their real estate exams (inside joke for KT). no, they were all in line for imogen! lovely immi! like i said, i’ll get to her in a bit. despite the rain choosing to fall exactly as we added to the line’s body count, time went by quickly w/ talks of pizzeria uno’s, buffalo stances, and the difference between good and evil being those willing to leave space in a driveway for cars to enter/exit and those who aren’t.


interlude – “whoooo’s that gigolo on the street? w/ his hands in his pockets and his crocodile feet? hangin’ off the curb, lookin’ all disturbed/ at the boys from home, they all came runnin’. they were makin’ noise, manhandlin’ toys…” hmm. everything keeps bringing me back to that damn pop-up book! – interlude end.


the first time i treated myself to seeing imogen live was october 2005 at the canal room. it was just her on a stage w/ her wacky music looping gadgetry. i was verrry close to said stage and the venue’s small size made it quite an intimate evening. good times. last sunday’s show was my first visit to webster hall. i’m happy to report that it was a pleasant one. i knew it was bigger than bowery, but it wasn’t nearly as spacious as i led myself to believe before seeing it. still… i was surprised that ms. heap had made such a jump in venue size in only a year (due largely in part to the OC soundtracks, of all fuckin’ things). not that she doesn’t deserve it and then some.


after a quick unintentional perusal of the merch stand and a trip to the bathroom (complete w/ red moodlighting and purchasable candies), KT and i found a spot midway on the floor to stay put (after being denied access to the not-so-VIP balcony section. fine! i’m afraid of heights anyway, mr. security man!). i know nobody’s reading this, but if by some twist of fate you are and attended the same show, i have a little known fact for ya: that cutie selling beer and water in a ballpark vendor satchel was not faking a bad cockney accent. he was actually australian. go figure.


ok, so by the time we hit the main floor for good, the first opening act had already begun. LEVI WEAVER.

i have yet to ‘google’ him, but he’s some sort of indie, acoustic guitar playin’ solo artist who also does his own backup band looping. i liked him. and not only cuz he’s got one of those scott wolf type baby faces. so he’s either 19 or 29. who knows? he’s a cutie patootie either way. in keeping w/ the school theme… if only he would pass me a note between classes asking if his mom can take us to the movies this friday. we would shyfully smile at each other when we both laugh at something funny; and i would nudge him w/ my elbow for laughing at something unfunny. like anything lewis black is yelling about. why are we watching lewis black at the movies? cuz there’s popcorn involved, that’s why. in the kind of theatre that lets you add your own butter. that’s why. and cuz this crap is what my imagination came up w/ at this very moment. so suck it. oh, right. levi weaver. he did a rendition of radiohead’s ‘idioteque’ that i very much enjoyed, but i can’t tell if it’s just because i’m a huge radiohead fan or because i liked his version. he didn’t really add anything to the song that’s not already in the song, it was just… different. his own. so he gets a thumbs up regardless.


imogen came onstage after his set to introduce the second opener, but this was our first time seeing her since we got there. i think KT said she looked like a cute mary poppins in the suit/hat combo she had on and i agree. seeing her for that brief moment made me anxious for the next act to be over w/ quickly, but he managed to keep my interest for the entire 40 minutes he was up there. i had never heard of him prior to the week before this show, but Kid Beyond is a beatboxing looper. a one-man techno band. i thought he was great… especially for givin’ us some NIN ‘closer’ and portishead ‘wandering star.’ now he would probably be more my type if it wasn’t for that tinge of wannabe-thug in his speaking voice. he’s mr.-clean-bald and i choose to believe that he shaves his head on purpose cuz he’s got that ‘fresh-outta-prison-but-i-still-have-credibility-since-i-only-spent-2-weeks-there-after-being-wrongfully-accused’ look that i sometimes take to. what’s not to like about the conjugal visit fantasy? you don’t even have to talk cuz there’s no time for that! you’re in, you’re out, and you can still make it to the bookstore on a sunday before it closes.


what i loved next was that immi didn’t keep us waiting long before coming back out for her own set. i can’t accurately describe what she was wearing, but her hairdo reminded me of the trojan war. (ok, fine. it made me wanna watch brad pitt and eric bana in TROY. leeme alone. i’ll post a pic and let you form your own thoughts.) she started w/ ‘i am in love w/ you’ and it only got better from there. at canal room last year, it was just immi and her magical noise machines. but this time around, she had a backup band accompanying her on some of her songs. i can’t really compare the two shows since they’re so wonderfully different, so i can’t say which one i would prefer for next time. i suppose any immi is good immi. KT is a newcomer to the imogen ‘scene’ and i kept turning around like a proud parent trying to make sure a childless friend was still watching her daughter do a floor routine at her first gymnastics meet. but instead of saying ‘look at what my daughter can do!,’ i was using bad body language to tell KT to ‘look at what immi can do!’ as soon as i recognized what song was next. i think i even moaned once when ‘just for now’ had started. yeah… i definitely did. that was embarrassing. more good times, tho. thanks, immi. :)


oh.my.god. i almost forgot to mention the idiots in the audience. that’s a separate paragraph, indeed. ok, so i can’t remember what song it was, but immi was playing a slow jam on the piano and some jackass decided to badly clap along. it didn’t last the entire song, but it was still annoying as shit on a new shoe. that shoe being a flip-flop. then there was the drunk couple. can’t have a memorable concert experience without ‘em, can ya? luckily for me and KT, they were about three or so people in front of us. the tall guy had a fro-ness to his tight, curly brown locks and his short girlfriend was just short and drunk. and probably a theater major, as KT pegged her out to be. they seemed to time things perfectly to be just drunk enough to stay upright by the time immi came on. when Frodo raised his lighter in the air, i was inexcusably distracted from the music to stare at him. not because it reminded me that i wanted a cigarette, but because i would allow my attention to be drawn away from the stage for more than five seconds to watch what he would do next. they swayed and toasted their beer cups to immi like bad-mannered medieval mongolians at a drunken dinner sing-a-long, but i was more than able to ignore them for most of the night. until it got close to the encore and they began acting out each song word for word via interpretive dance. i watched for a while and noticed that any time the girl came to a word she couldn’t do charades for, she would just raise her hands as if she were trying to cup rain into her mouth. FUN NEE. i actually busted out laughing during the last song. i just couldn’t believe how silly they looked (since i was sober). some girl behind us then went up to them in what seemed to be an attempt to get them to stop, but she admirably failed. shorty mcdramaqueen simply turned to her and kept on-a-mimin’ to ‘the moment i said it,’ which is such a lovely song. i actually don’t mind that i missed most of it since ‘the other show’ had gotten so amusing. if only the video i took of them came out well enough to upload onto youtube!


back to imogen. she put on a phenomenal show. as i mentioned before, she had a band w/ her for a few songs this time and kid beyond and levi weaver were parts of it. i have no idea what levi and his guitar added to the table, as i was unable to hear what he was playing. maybe he was just there as eye candy. i did enjoy kid’s participation, tho. i couldn’t always tell the difference between what he was beatboxing and what was actually an instrument, but i guess that’s a good thing. it only means he did that much better of a job than i thought. but, man oh man… immi! what a fun, little showgirl she is! but by no means do i mean ‘little’ in the sense of stature. i’m pretty sure she’s close to 6’0” tall. so seeing her dance around the stage was a greatly fun sight. one that was appropriately left out of the canal show. and she’s my precious, little giant, she is. cute doesn’t even begin to describe her between-song banter. i wanted to take her home and serve her tea and krimpets, before tucking her in and reading her a bedtime story. and i do believe she’s made quite a fan out of KT (which i’ll also take a little credit for… you’re welcome, director).


i’m sure i’m leaving out tons of stuff, but i’ll come back and edit if something worth mentioning revisits me.

for now, i invite you to add suggestions to my list of possible porno pop-up book titles:

1) pop! goes the weasel cuz the weasel goes uhhh!
2) c is for coochie… and other bedtime snacks. (in case it becomes a food fetish book)
3) have you got it in you? (just to keep this immi related :D)

Pet Peeves

1) people coming up to me at the store and asking, "do you work here?"

this happens all.the.time. no joke. apparently i have some kinda retail laborer look to me. i just don't get how people can mistake me for an employee when i'm pushing my own cart around too. did you think i'm on restock detail and was just returning unbought merchandise back to the shelves? i know it happens to a lot of us, but the frequency in which it happens to me is astonishing (yet, still not as often as i'm mistaken for being hispanic. i have a story about that too which i'll get to in a minute).

what's wrong w/ you people? i'm wearing a fuckin' jacket and i've been staring at the nutrition facts on this can of soup for 5 damn minutes. i know you saw me shopping, so what the hell? i have to assume that these people are too lazy to find an employee and are just hoping that the person nearest to them will help out. i suggest asking that person if they can help you and not if he/she works there. cuz they probably don't. hint: if in TARGET, look for a red shirt. name tags are a good sign too.

b) people taking advantage of you holding the door open.

everybody knows this one. when you're holding the door open for someone and somebody else sneaks in behind them without saying, 'thanks.' it's annoying. you people are annoying. they never put their hand out to grab the door, they just breeze on through as if they just made the train before it left. i don't need a 'thanks,' just your hand on the door to acknowledge that me holding it open wasn't necessarily meant for you. even worse is when you're holding it open for a slow, old lady and some jerk walks through in front of her instead of waiting two seconds. those jerks never say thanks either. dude, it's one simple word. got laryngitis? how about a head nod, then?


iii) being mistaken for hispanic.

don't get me wrong. nothing wrong w/ ANY nationality. but those close to me know how often this happens to me. it's not just that someone thinks i look 'spanish.' i'm of mixed race and that's a fair enough, but wrong assumption. what's annoying is when strangers start speaking spanish to me and think i'm kidding when i say i don't speak spanish/i'm not spanish. like i'm ashamed of my heritage or something. no, i'm not. it's not actually mine to be ashamed of. you made a mistake. get over it.
inevitably, those people who i correct then ask, "oh, then what ARE you?" in a manner that makes it sound like i must be from quargon five if not some latin country. i've bitched about this many times before. again, it's not that it's some insult to be assumed hispanic. it's that no one EVER sees asian or black in me. i hate that people are shocked i'm not what they first assumed. sorry to disappoint you. maybe you have to be mixed to understand. my mixed friends do. my white friends just say, 'well, you do look spanish. what's the problem?' to that i say, it's not a problem. it's just an annoyance at this point since i'm ALWAYS thought to be in denial of something. someone actually told me that i should learn spanish because i look spanish. this came from a girl who tried talking to me in her native language and was surprised that i couldn't understand her. she's right... it's totally my fault that we couldn't communicate better. god forbid she should learn better english.

We all come across people and make conclusions about them that may or may not be fact, but there's always the chance that we're wrong. i just think it's best not to express those thoughts to people you don't know. cuz i'm sick of the people w/out a 'this sounds prejudiced' filter who do that constantly... especially 70yrold caucasians who like to loop all minorities into one category (that category being 'you're not from here like I AM.' yeah, actually... i am. which you would know if you took the same amount of time talking to me as it took you to blurt out the wrong thing after simply looking at me. i usually say nothing back because i know they'll be dead a lot sooner than i'll probably be. hey, that's the harsh truth. when i'm told bigoted shit to my face like it's nothing, it obviously stays w/ me, so please tell your friends to keep those thoughts to themselves.

more and more people are mixing up the races and i think that's great! whenever my sister and i see a mixed couple, we're like, 'hope they make a baby! one more for our team!' seriously, folks. what are you afraid of?


quatro) strangers telling me i should quit smoking.

no shit. we all know of the hazardous consequences that go along w/ this habit, but you telling me i should quit ain't gonna make it happen. all it is is you being annoying. we've heard it before and it obviously didn't help. same as with any other bad habit, everyone needs to decide on their own to quit in order for it to happen.
i don't appreciate you scaring me w/ mentions of lung cancer and second-hand smoke. i'm very mindful of non-smokers around me and lung cancer can happen to anyone. i'm in the medical field and i can't tell you how many folks w/ lung cancer never smoked a day in their lives. or the number of so-called health and exercise nuts who have cardiac problems. or the people who watch their diet due to family medical history and still end up with hypertension and/or diabetes. if it's meant to be, it's meant to be. sure, you can try to better your health. i absolutely support you in trying. but you also can't predict what kind of bad health or death will befall you. some might say it's already been planned.

bottom line is: stop telling me to quit smoking. i don't even know you. i'll quit when i'm good and ready. we all have vices. mine are certainly of no concern to a stranger. for all i know, you like kiddie porn.

oh, and if you're a drug user, DEFINITELY stop telling me to quit. you're high... why should i to listen to the advice you have for me? snort that.

five) after i sneeze, some stranger saying, 'oh don't get me sick.'

how's about 'g'bless you?' it's a bit more polite, jackass.

yet another) when actors forget that their characters have accents.

yeah, i'm lookin' at you, keanu. you too brad. and screw you, julia. you're all getting paid faaar too much money to not be on top of these things. as a matter of fact, everyone on the set around you gets paid more than i do on their day off. one of them shouldn't be too scared to at least remind someone else that 'you're from the south now.' so speak like it. cuz if i closed my eyes, i'd swear you're from malibu. $20 million per movie, my broke ass. i could probably get that scene right if i had 30 takes to do so too. but i'd only demand $5 million. cuz i'm humble like that. nooch.

when both our cars collide

my gift to today's oncoming traffic was an off-key sing-along to my chemical romance's 'helena.' i'm sure the streets loved it. :) (i'm convinced i'm slowly building a fanbase on my route home from work). if you don't already know the song, you should. it's complete w/ creepy whispering and high-pitched screaming, neither of which my 'singing' voice is equipped for. i even used my non-smoking hand to dramatically gesture w/ as i badly sung along to a song that should've been written about me. instead of sir mix-a-lot's 'baby got back.' that's not yet confirmed, tho. it's still just a theory. for now.

10/27/06 Part Three - THE UGLY.

well, it’s sunday. i was sick yesterday and still am, but not bedridden the way i wanted to be. just a little cold. but it’s okay. i chose this. all i wanted was some other reason to feel crappy and now i have it. i haven’t done a damn thing today except this and, earlier, force myself to eat soup. but i think i’ll weather through the harsh wind outside to get some Theraflu just in case (note pun). if i recall correctly, one of the patients coming into work tomorrow just underwent another round of chemo and i don’t wanna risk the chance of my germies gettin’ her.

so… i sent G an email before i logged on here. thank heaven she wasn’t my only reason for coming into the city friday night. or else i would’ve been meaner in my choice of words. i’m a hopeless romantic when it comes to my friends and she is no exception. it’s heartrending to keep going through the same bullshit with G over and over. she always apologizes and i always forgive her, but not this time. not that i even got an apology this time. two days later, i still haven’t heard from her. i know she’s not, dare i say it… dead… because i would feel it. so i have to believe that she was just so beyond wasted that she forgot friday night entirely and thinks we did see each other but can’t remember it. but that doesn’t make sense either. i don’t feel like trying to wrap my brain around it. i’m no stranger to people close to me having addictions. eventually you reach that point where you have to push them away and not be there for them to rely on or bail them out. the ‘rock bottom/tough love’ approach isn’t my favorite, but that’s what it’s come to. i hope it works. i really do.

gee… one by one, all my nyc and college friends seem to be flaking out on me. i hope this trend is nearing its end. seriously. is it me? i haven’t changed. everyone else seems to be changing for the worse. it’s probably me. what the fuck’s wrong w/ me? maybe i should crawl outta my cozy, little anti-social bubble and make more jersey friends. no, that won’t happen either. we’ll see. i can’t seem to control any other aspect of my life, and i’ve been trying too hard lately to hold on to relationships where i was the only one still participating. which sucks. i need someone to be there for me too, but not every one of our friends is the one to talk to about certain things. we each have a role and we each know different things that maybe the others aren’t meant to know. it’s weird how that is. i was going through a very bad time… i can’t remember exactly when, so i’ll just say… a couple of years ago when i cut off communication from everyone. people kept calling and emailing and trying to find out from my mother if i was still alive. i know now how great they are, but of course i didn’t care at the time. didn’t care that they loved me. or that i CAN talk to some of them about anything if i really wanted to. but i don’t. most of them have never held that role for me. i’ve hidden the dark side from them and opening them up to it now just wouldn’t feel natural. so now i don’t have that shoulder to hang my head on when it’s too heavy for me to hold up on my own. and i’m still trying not to revert back to my old habits. so i HAVE to get rid of G. for my own sake. and that’s what i sent her this:

“i really can’t take your shit any more. i really can’t. and don’t ever tell your fucking boyfriend to make a phone call meant for me that you should be the one to make. cuz that phone call will never happen. i’m assuming he was too wasted not to inform you of last night's phone exchange. i won’t bother going into my long, rainy night of worry and anger. do you even know what happened last night or do you just not care? i know you’re not one to not care, so i hope you’re not in trouble. but get some fuckin’ help. i know you’ve tried to better yourself, but maybe now’s the time to try again. i’m sick of crying every time i come back from seeing you (or, in some cases, NOT seeing you). i have enough to cry about, but i’ve been pretty good with that lately. the last time i truly cried was two months ago… during and after the throwing muses show with YOU. hearing you tell me you’ve stopped certain habits but behaving differently is heartbreaking. you make me cry. and half of the time, crying makes me want to ------------, which i’ve been even better about these days than with the tears. this doesn’t seem overly dramatic even to me. cuz it’s the truth. the bottom line is that i need to not be around you for a while for my own sake. you know i’m having a tough time at home and look forward to going to shows or seeing my friends or doing anything to get away from it all. it’s not that i don’t mind worrying about you. friends do that. but i can only do so much worrying before i want to bash my fuckin’ head into a wall just for the physical pain to distract me from an emotional one. god knows how badly i want to ----------- sometimes, but i try to remember that things really aren’t any better after i ---------- despite me feeling better. ------------. i try to think of my niece and how i wouldn’t know what to say to a 4 year old who asks about the scars i have. i wouldn’t know what to say to her because children take things so literally and i don’t have a good enough explanation for her just yet. ‘aunt p doesn’t know how to handle her depression sometimes’ just doesn’t sound like a reason that would end the conversation right then and there.

every loss takes time and tears to get over. i’m pretty sure i’ve hit my tears quota when it comes to you, so right now… i just need time. time without you in my life. i’m not completely dismissing you. but just thinking about how often you disappoint me could set off an enragement. so please don’t call my cell phone. i won’t answer. and for your own sake, do NOT call my home number. and don’t leave messages. i won’t listen. don’t email. i won’t read them. i’ll get back to you when i think i can handle you better. i know i’m going to miss you cuz i miss you already. but I’d rather not see you at all than see you the way you are now. just take care of yourself. i hope you get this, but don’t reply. just get better. do whatever it takes to get better. i’m trying to do the same. i hope to return to our friendship sooner than later. but for now, as cruel and selfish as it may sound, i just need you to leave me alone. you owe me more than that.”

so that's that. to top it all off, i’m stuck with the bag of soy chips i got her. i wouldn't eat that shit on fear factor. anybody want it? it’s lying on my bed. maybe i'll hand it out for halloween. hmm, why don't i donate an expired can of peas to a food drive while i'm at it? fine, i'll just throw the chips out. it'll be symbolic.


ETA: it's sunday night. i know for a FACT that G is up and running. but she still never bothered to call me before i sent that email, which was all of yesterday and earlier today. i officially wash my hands clean of this mess... NOW.

10/27/06 Part Two – THE BAD...

as i walked towards the N/R station, i called the friend i was supposed to meet for the Love is All show. let’s call her, ‘G.’ G has no cell phone, which can’t be a constant nuisance to only myself. as usual, there was no answer at her apt, so i left a detailed message, saying that it was 9:38 and i would meet her at broadway new fancy food at 10:20pm. we had already decided this beforehand and i even responded to the email she sent me earlier in the day to confirm it. i stopped by an Eckerd’s for a bottle of soda that wasn’t watered down. damn, it was good. on the subway ride to canal and broadway, i was already thinking about the food i would order at the meetup place i picked, but had never been to. you’ll soon realize why i hope to never go back.

broadway new fancy food is on leonard street just four or so blocks down broadway from canal. it was pretty easy to find, which was a good thing since the rain had picked up and i then had to use my umbrella. it was 10:22 when i showed up, but G wasn’t around. (funny thing… as i was walking towards the place, i coulda swore i heard a girl shout out, ‘priscilla p!,’ which is what G sometimes calls me. i looked up and a trio of girls were on the other side of the street, one of them waving her hand in the air. so i waved back, thinking it was G w/ some friends. nope! it was just some chicks trying to hail a cab. i still have no idea if they noticed me, but i continued my walk in embarrassment.) i sat on the covered stoop outside for a smoke and to call her apt again. still no answer. i figured it was pointless to leave another message, so i didn’t. i finished my Eckerd’s soda and went back inside to look around more.

inside the deli/market, i walked around a bit but quickly found a spot in front of the food counter to stand in semi-permanently after realizing i was being watched. i hate that. it wasn’t even a suspicious ‘what’s she up to?’ kind of watch, i just don’t like eyes following me. i had my mind set on some sort of grilled chicken blt wrap, but the grill seemed to be closed. the guys who worked there were just standing around waiting to serve people, but i hate that more than workers being too busy to notice you. i was too shy to ask about the grill and draw attention to myself, then took so long deciding if i wanted a turkey sandwich or not that i just lost any courage altogether. i figured i’d buy some chips or something. so i went to the back of the store, but nothing got my gastric juices bubbling. i think i was in a mixed state of confusion, worry, and anger that kept me from realizing how hungry i was. but i did buy G a bag of soy chips so she’d have something to eat real quick when she showed up. by then it was around 10:40pm. i called her apt again. still no answer. so i went outside for another smoke. maybe she didn’t get the phone message, but she should’ve known to check for my email reply, right? so i decided to see if she was waiting for me outside of the knitting factory instead. it, too, was on leonard street, so wouldn’t that have been something if we were both in the area waiting for each other. of course, leonard street had to be under construction like all hell. and it’s still raining. yay. i saw the people hanging outside the venue for the same show i was to see and suddenly got pumped. woo hoo, love is all! but… no sign of G there either. okay, fuck this… there had to be a mcdonalds in the area for a quick mcnugget fix before i went back to the broadway deli. instead of being smart and walking back towards canal, i decided to walk away from it towards chambers street. i did find a mcdonalds, but it had closed for the night. drat. i must have circled the same four blocks enough for people to think i was crazy and still didn’t find a cheap place to grab a hot food item… or that wasn’t a starbucks. i wanted to keep passing the deli in case G was just very late, but it turns out she wouldn’t be showing up at all. i finally stopped back there at 11:05pm and called her apt again. this time some guy picked up before the machine did. i think it was her boyfriend. the same boyfriend i hadn’t met yet, but did send a birthday card to earlier this month when i couldn’t make it to the party G invited me to. i asked him if G was there and he said something to the effect of, ‘um… yeah?’ then he asked who i was as if i had just told him the world would end if he didn’t kill a blue baby ox within the next ten minutes. i told him who i was and again asked if G was there, but more hurriedly. he said, ‘yeah.’ and i said, ‘still?! why hasn’t she left yet?’ and he said, ‘oh, i was supposed to call you. i don’t think she’s coming. she’s passed out.’ i was so fuckin’ pissed off at that very fuckin’ moment that i’m getting pissed off now as i type this. okay, i just took a ciggie drag so i’ll continue.

i was so pissed that i momentarily didn’t care that she wasn’t showing up, just that i wasn’t told sooner. i withheld my cursing and asked why he didn’t call me when he knew he should have. he said it was because he had passed out too. i forget exactly what i said to him after that pathetic explanation, but i know i sarcastically thanked him for not calling and then hung up. instead of picking up physical tickets for the show like i asked her to, G ordered them online and they were under her name w/ some credit card number i didn’t have. i just wanted the night to be over with anyway so i didn’t even care to try buying my own ticket at the door that was just a block away. it was 11:11 so maybe i could catch the 11:41 train home.

oh, did anybody who's now reading this also read my previous myspace post about the throwing muses show last august? you may remember me mentioning how my night was ruined when i had to tend to a friend of mine who was wasted. that friend was G. this isn’t the first time she’s let me down, folks, but i’m not about to list every time she’s wronged me on this page. i’m just citing that last instance to give you an idea why this was the last straw.

i didn’t want to spend money on a cab, so i decided to take the canal street N/R to herald square knowing that the two or so blocks i’d still have to walk could be what made me miss the train. as i walked back up to canal in the rain, i didn’t use my umbrella. i didn’t really wish to be rained on, but i was just pissed and didn’t care. i even stopped along the way to sit down on a different stoop and call another ‘friend’ of mine that i hadn’t seen since that same throwing muses show. if she had picked up, i would have cried like mad and incoherently babbled nonsense that she could only respond to with ‘uh huh’s, ‘oh’s, or ‘i’m sorry’s' without any other word in edgewise. but she didn’t answer, so we were both spared. i stood back up and lit another cigarette for the rest of the walk. i didn’t use the umbrella on my way to Penn from herald square either. i remember thinking that if someone asked me why i was just holding it, i would tell them ‘everything’s broken.’ anger had turned to sadness. surprisingly, though, i did make the 11:41 train just as it was boarding final passengers. which normally would have brightened me up a bit. that rarely happens. i can’t remember the last time i got home before 3am from the city, but the reason i did last night sucks.

did i mention that the mp3 player i bought 2 ½ months ago stopped working the second i walked onto a manhattan street that night? well, it did. it started buzzing and now i can’t turn it off or do anything else. so i didn’t even have music to distract me from my thoughts during the ride home. someone i recently met reminded me that bad nights in nyc are a lot worse than other nights because you still have that long ride home to dwell in. she was right. god knows how badly i wished i had a knife on me or that you could still smoke in the vestibules like in the old days. i got teary-eyed a few times, but i went numb somewhere between the stops at secaucus and linden and just stopped thinking completely. when i got to my car in the new brunswick parking deck, i just sat in it for a while since there was time on the clock before i’d have to pay for another hour. i eventually left, but even in the rain, i didn’t go home right away. i just drove around. my train had gotten in at 12:45. and despite living about 15 minutes away, i didn’t get home until 1:30. which is probably good. the depression i sunk into had passed and any urge i had to harm myself was gone. see? i do make the right decisions sometimes. even if i have to waste expensive gas to do it.

i kinda hoped all that walking in the rain would make me sick today, but i was done with water for the night so i went to bed without taking a bath. and i didn’t care that i was still hungry. fortunately, i’ve gotten better with eating my sorrows away too. however, i did check my email before finally going to sleep. as you can tell, the internet is habit i can’t break just yet.

i’ll get to the final part of this post tomorrow. it’s late. time for sleep. and, yes, i already took my bath.

10/27/06 Part One - The GOOD...

i went to see Lisa Germano for the first time last night in brooklyn and am glad i did. i’ll get to that in a minute.

i had an overzealous night of music planned. first, lisa germano in brooklyn @ 8pm, then off to meet a friend for food before catching the second of two Love is All shows at Knitting Factory at 11pm! packed in a bit too tightly, you say? yes, maybe. but i figured i’d be fine cuz i’m a fuckin’ superhero.

i left home a bit later than i wanted to and had to catch the 6:20 train leaving from the new Brunswick train station. well, that’s when it should have left. in typical already-late-as-it-is fashion, it was running 15 minutes behind and managed to lose about ten more minutes on its way to Penn. and wouldn’t ya know, i showed up at Barbes at exactly 8:21 for an 8pm show. (thanks nj transit! actually, that arrival time was a miracle, as i usually get lost even on my way to places i’ve already been to. let me take the opportunity to pat myself on the back for not doing so to a place i’d never been to before. PAT PAT PAT. hey! not so hard. pat? ok, that’s better.)

at Barbes, i paid ten bucks for some guy w/ a black marker to draw on my hand, indicating my allowed entrance into their tiniest of performance spaces. but first... a drink! i decided not to consume alcohol until after i ate and just ordered a diet pepsi. the waitress brought over a diet coke and asked if it seemed too weak. i took my first sip and told her that it did, but that it was fine since i was thirsty as all hell. perhaps i should have kept that fragility to myself, as it left her feeling guilt-free in charging me 3 bucks for it before then informing someone that they needed more diet coke. glad i could help, Barbes. thanks for the ice water.

i walked through the red velvet drape that separated the bar from the ‘music venue.’ that’s pretty much all the walking i had to do. there was no room to go except that first step in. the tiny space was packed and i couldn’t see shit. well, it sounded like lisa, but i wasn’t sure. unfamiliar w/ the song being sung, i simply peeked my head out of the drape and asked the ‘doorman’ if that was, indeed, lisa that was already on. it was. again, thanks nj transit. i liked what i was listening to, but not being able to see any part of what might have been a stage or who was on it was so disheartening that i almost thought to ask for a discount on ticket price… at least for being the only participant in their coke taste challenge. but i quickly remembered that i’m not the type to cause such a fuss and stewed in my disappointment for a bit until i realized to just enjoy being in the presence of lisa germano: LIVE. so that’s what i did. i don’t like taking pictures when nobody else is, but i managed to steal 5 or 6 shots whenever i felt a jolt of boldness. sir PepBoyBigHead stood a few people in front of me and was the main reason i couldn’t see anything, but he eventually moved over enough for me to personally confirm that lisa was actually there. that was nice. until the woman in front of me decided to remove her jacket. granted, it was getting warm in there, but i was massively unprepared for the hearty musk her disrobement thrust up my nostrils. damn! how thick was her denim jacket to prevent such a foul stench from escaping the armpits of b.o. hell? i’m not kidding, folks. the smell burned my eyes. i would’ve given her the refund i deserved for the coke challenge just to put her jacket back on. but, i digress.

good tunes, good times. the show ended early around 9:20 to allow enough time for schmoozing before the 10pm show. as the crowd parted, i saw someone i’ve kept in touch with since meeting him at a metric show a year ago. he’s a spaz. no, not really. well, maybe. but he’ll probably be reading this and i want him to see me say so in print. he knows what i’m talking about. yes, you still look good and cute. i bet five pennies that, although my phone number is now in your cell, my name isn’t. oh! before i forget… happy belated bday to cyprus! she was there too. ok, so i chatted w/ the both of them for a while before going our separate ways outside the venue. lisa was also outside having a smoke. so, before my first visit to Barbes came to an end, i managed to meet her and get an autograph. more good times. it was only drizzling at this point, but a worse rain was soon to come…