And So It Goes

The kids upstairs are roller skating again. AND they're, like, moving a dining room table from one side of the room to the other. Or something. Whatever it is it's FREAKING LOUD.

City Livin' 2

I just figured it out. The kids are rollerskating up there. I am so serious. Rollerskating! Or rollerblading, whatever it is they do these days. You've GOT to be kidding me.

Best Of Wednesday

Get me the holy hell out of here.

I Don't Get It

What the hell are they thinking?

Update: This ad campaign is a fake.

Frickin' Wednesday

I am just exhausted. Simply exhausted.

Please, someone, bestow upon me the will and energy to go the gym tonight.

All I Can Do. . .

The waiting game is kiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiilling me.

:-(

They All Leave

Well. Another of my very closest friends is moving away. It's strange that leaving the area has been such a trend with the people I've become the most attached to.

Each time this happens, it just breaks my heart.

First it was Jan. He moved away to go to grad school in Louisiana, and he's still there, teaching at LSU.

Next it was Travis. He got into grad school at Cornell, which was very convenient, since that's the area where his little girl, Isobel, lives. So he moved, then moved back for a little while when he was working for the Senate, but he recently bought a house out west (in Montour Falls, to be exact) and so he lives there fulltime now.

Next was Kristie. She decided to marry an army guy, and therefore, now lives in Texas of all places.

Among my other friends who have moved away from here: Rebeccah (to Vermont), Brian (to North Carolina), Cecilli (to Seattle).

And, of course, there's Aaron, who moved to Florida this past fall.

Now, another one of my favorite people ever (and I must thank Travis, because not only would I not know her if it hadn't been for him, but we wouldn't be so wonderfully close either--our friendship was cemented when he was away in Afghanistan)--Kate--is leaving.
The story, for those of you who are interested, is that Kate's from Rochester, and she's been looking to move back there over recent months/years to be closer to her family. She got a job offer for a publicity postion from the University of Rochester, and she took it. She starts her new gig in early April.

Now, I know that these people aren't leaving me--I'm much more rational than that. But that doesn't make it suck any less. And no matter what, when so many people leave, you can't help but feel a little left behind--even if this is where you want to be.

Despicable Creatures of Evil and Doom

This past Saturday I was in the city for the day--I had some stuff to take care of in the early afternoon, and then I met up with Joe and we went to have sushi for dinner in the village. After dinner, we had a few drinks at a couple different places on Bleecker Street. It was a lovely day, and at around 11 PM, we went to Penn Station to part ways--Joe back to Long Island; me to Morristown, NJ, to stay with my gram for the rest of the weekend.

I missed my 11:11 train for silly reasons I won't get into, so after Joe caught his train, I sat in Penn for an hour doing a NY Press crossword, waiting for the next train.

About a half-hour into my wait, in what seemed like a blink of an eye, hordes of the most vile, destructive, contemptible creatures flooded what had been a moderately empty Penn Station. I'm talking hundreds (maybe even a thousand or two) of the worst lifeform imaginable: teenagers. They were such wretched, unthinkable beings--puking and spitting and drunk and high and crying and screaming into their cell phones and yelling at each other from across the train station. It took about 30 seconds of this nonsense for my nerves to fry.

Not wanting to be run down when trying to get to my train, I kept a close eye on the board, and when the gate was announced, I was among the first to get to the platform and board, even though those little disciples of Satan did their best to plow people over to get to the train. Seats were being taken at lightning speed, so when I spied a woman my age sitting in a two-seater, I asked, "Do you mind?" And she responded, "Are you kidding? I'd rather have you sit here than one of these hooligans," as she gestured at the teens falling over each other to grab seats. Our seats faced the empty space at the front of the train car that's available for people with wheelchairs and whatnot. That space--and every other available space on the train, including the walkways--was filled to the brim with teenagers. Cussing, shouting, know-it-all, drunk, dehydrated, horny, obnoxious, evil teenagers. And to make matters worse, since there were so many of them, it took about 10 to 15 minutes at each stop to let everyone off who needed to get off. What is usually a 45- to 50-minute train ride ended up being more than 2 hours long!

At one point, the woman sitting next to me said, "This is the longest train ride in history." I agreed, and said that I didn't know why it was taking so long. She looked at me and said, "Because we are in hell."

Update: There had been a sold-out performance of O.A.R. at MSG that night, and apparently every teenager in New Jersey had to go see it. Vile creatures.

Is There Any Cure . . .

. . . for procrastination? I have some very serious things that need to get done and though I did more today than I have in the last few days, I'm still not being nearly as efficient and productive as I need to be.

Seriously, if anyone has any suggestions, please, please help a girl out.

Top Five Pet Peeves About the Gym

1. People who do not use the cardio equipment during their scheduled time.
2. Women with long hair who don't put it up while they're working out. If you don't put your hair up, you're not there to break a sweat, and therefore don't belong at the gym at all.
3. People dropping weights. It startles me every time.
4. People who try to talk to me while I'm working out. Just don't.
5. Short shorts on guys. ANY guys. Ick.

Anyone have any other gym pet peeves I haven't thought of?

Temptation

There's one of those huge cookie-cake things in the editorial office in celebration of our new staff writer's birthday. I've been pretty good about eating healthily and avoiding bad things lately. Like huge cookie-cake things. And now one is in the office, calling my name. For the record, it's nearly impossible for me to avoid this giant cookie. I love sweets--my sweet tooth is about the size of the Atlantic. And of course, cookies are my favorite. So far, so good--I haven't given in. I just wanted to share my diet angst.

Out of Space??

That's what my blog peeps are saying. . . I'll have to figure this out. Till then, I'll try to do some updating on my MySpace blog.

GRE: Done

Wow, I am not in a hurry to do that again. Four hours of testing, blah.

GRE: The Horror!

After a desperate--and unsuccessful--attempt at rescheduling my GREs, I have now accepted my loathsome fate and have embarked on a three-day cramming session. I am pretty confident in my capability concerning the verbal side of the test (it's how I make my living, after all)--it's the math portion that has me shaking in my black patent-leather heels.

To all of my supportive, truly wonderful friends: Though I love you all dearly, you sadly have absolutely no idea what you're talking about when you say "Oh, you'll do just fine!" Obviously none of you have seen any sort of attempt on my part to calculate. It's embarrassing. It took me (and a colleague of mine, David, who is also pretty math-challenged) at least 10 minutes not too long ago to split a lunch bill. To be fair to us, though, I think there had to have been something in the food that was clouding our heads.

Thank goodness Trav has agreed to work with me tomorrow night on my math skills. I'd have no chance otherwise. However, I must say, Mitch (uh, how come he got the math gene and I didn't? huh? mom? dad?) picked up my prep book today and pointed out an equation and said "Look, you can do this one, easy," and I looked, and I did it. In my head. It was a pretty simple equation though. But it did have an 'x' in it.

Heaven help me.

Rant

If I ever become rich and famous--or just rich, or just famous--I will first use my power to extinguish one of my all-time biggest pet peeves. I hate (HATE!) that U.S. international airports (well, probably all U.S. airports--but I'm specifically thinking of JFK, Newark and Logan) charge money to use luggage trollies. This concept is so absurd, it infuriates me. Not because I find that I'm usually in need of a trolly--I only ever travel with a backpack and one rolling piece of luggage--but there are so many people who do need to use trollies, especially after their long-ass, cross-Atlantic flights. Mothers with kids swarming around them, elderly folks who need assistance to even lift their luggage off the belt, students who may have a lot of luggage because they're spending a whole semester in the states, etc. Not only do you need to pay to use the trollies, but you need to pay in American dollars (last time I checked it was $3, and you had to insert the money into the trolly holder to obtain one). A lot of foreign travelers don't consider this (one reason for this is probably because most, if not all, foreign airports I have been to do not charge a cent to use the trollies), and therefore are carrying only euros or whatever their native money is. And, of course, the luggage belts often come before exchange booths in the layout of an airport. Therefore, foreign travelers are often screwed out of being able to use a trolly.

I just think that it's such a callous first impression for us to be giving the rest of the world.

Annoying Day

My ass has been glued to my office chair for the majority of the day with the exception of lunch (thanks to the Republican for coming to Albany for lunch and letting me vent about my life) and I can't bring myself to go to the gym today, blah! And I've been procrastinating with my tedious-ass work and I was just blown off yet again by my brother and I'm SO ready to freeeeeak ouuuuuuuut.

!!!!!!!!!!!

What the Hell is Going on Here???

My office stinks like garbage! I can't work like this.

Alright, Kate, I'm Updating. . .

I've had some hesitations about keeping this blog, but I've decided not to be ridiculous. So, upon the request of my girl Kate P., I am updating.

So I joined the gym finally, and I am addicted. I would love to be able to get up in the morning to go work out, but unfortunately, my attempts at being a morning person are futile at best. Therefore I have been working out in the afternoons. Hey, it's better than nothing.

On Friday night, Kate and I went to see Paranoid Social Club at E. O'Dwyer's in Saratoga Springs. It was a great show, but the crowd was obnoxious! I don't mean to sound old, but when you have to practically mosh in order to keep standing upright, it gets annoying. People were throwing strings of green plastic beads from the balcony; I had a lump on my head on Saturday as proof. I smelled like gin from at least three mixed drinks being poured on my jeans. And Kate got her sweatshirt stolen that she bought in London. People are asses.
(Look for a pic of the show in the paper on Thursday.)

This is a damn funny blog for those of you wishing to waste a bit of time at work.

How Does One Afford A Gym Membership?

Actually, the question is, how does one afford a gym membership AND an apartment AND a car payment AND car insurance AND two cats AND credit card payments AND two school loan payments AND my measley $10-a-month cable AND groceries AND my phone bill AND my payment for my glasses AND my electric bill AND everything else I need to pay to live?

That, my friends, is the question.

Meltdown at KeyBank

Why oh why did I stick with KeyBank all these years? Yes, I admit, it's the closest bank to my house . . . but that is no excuse!! I finally stood up for myself, went down to the bank and screamed "stop charging my account all these crazy $30 fees!" And they did! So I closed out my KeyBank accounts and opened a checking account at SEFCU (our credit union) where they are very nice. They gave me a car loan two years ago when KeyBank laughed in my face at my meager $3000 request. Moral of the story: hooray for me, hooray for SEFCU, down with KeyBank.