Planes, Trains and Heartache

Wanna know something dumb? I am constantly composing posts in my head but I just never write them. I convince myself that my content is boring or too navel-gazey or trivial. Tonight, I was going through that vicious cycle, decided it was bullshit, got out of bed (yes I got in bed at 9 on a Friday, what are you going to say about it?) and grabbed the computer.

Ok. So. Now what to write about...?

How 'bout them Bears? Is that even still a team? Did they get sold or move somewhere? I'm constantly learning three years too late that a team has changed its name, moved or got sold or crashed into an airplane and the whole franchise died.

.... I don't really care.

I recently came back from a trip to visit my family. Some are literal family, some are figurative family. Either way I traveled the South spending time with people (sans one very good friend in NoVA who is owed a visit for sure- she knows who she is) who've known me the longest in my life. Somehow they still like me. I was nervous I tried to see too many people in a week's span. I can confidently say that I could've happily spent more time with each. I surprised my college friend Tina and finally met my "nephew" (with whom I'm now obsessed) and spent a few days with her family. I got to wish my dad a happy birthday in person (albeit a day early). Finally I was able to see my mother and sister and "new dad" David for a few days. I laughed a lot. The only downside was once I got home I realized I missed everyone with a terrible pang. See, this whole time I've lived away from them I thought I missed them less. Turns out I always miss them. I just get used to the pain.

People ask me when they find out that I moved to Albany for my now ex if I'll move to be closer to my family. I answer no. None of us are from Atlanta or Pawleys Island. I wouldn't be moving home. I would be starting all over again. I've done that enough. I've done that a total of six-ish times. I've filled my "starting over again" quota. Besides, I have a job I love, REALLY LOVE, in a company I truly believe in. I have friends who have guided me through the shit and who make me feel like I belong. I love the community in which I live. I love the weather here. (Dude, the humidity down there!! ACK!! It was like moving through soup. Hot, frizzy soup. This is where my vanity kicks in and I tell you that I love my curly hair way way waaaaaaay too much to put it through that shit.)

I also don't know if those loved ones are going to stay where they are. Wouldn't it suck nuts if I moved there and in a few years someone got transferred or decided "eff this?" I'd have to live under a climate-controlled dome with a job making rainbows and raising baby unicorns and kidnap all my friends to go down there with me to risk all that I have up here.

That being said, there's a hole in my heart when I'm away from them. No amount of Skype or phone conversation or email or text or Facebook can fill that. I just need to figure out a way to make it happen on the regular. Got any ideas? Cheap ones? Free ones?

Parenthesees Alert

Mike and I don't really eat at many restaurant chains. The only chain we frequent is Taco Bell. (And everyone knows that isn't real food.) We don't even really shop at chains- online or in person. Target? Of course. The mall? Not so much. (Full disclosure, we're also poor.) I even split our groceries between a local chain and our food co-op. I don't know why our shopping habits are such exactly. Since we live inside the city near a plethora of fresh food and locally owned everything, convenience dictates we stay chain-free and local. Even ordering from Domino's Pizza is less convenient than ordering from the pizza place a block away. (And less tasty.) I'm not saying we think chain restaurants are all terrible. But those places lack character (despite the apparent lack of trying) and they aren't as invested in the creating customer loyalty. Just another schmuck will come along and take the place of the disgruntled.

But lately I've found a whole new appreciation for patronizing the local establishments. It hit me today as I was picking up my lunch crepe (nom nom nummers) from a small creperie that the woman behind the counter (making my crepe and wishing me a happy new year in French) was the owner and that the tiny, lovely restaurant was her dream. How wonderful buying my crepe became. In a way I was supporting her dream. And it felt pretty good. And was delicious.

I have a dream to open a bookstore and yet I find myself crippled with fear at this next step. The holidays are ending and I can no longer use the excuse that no one really works on the holidays and I now have to begin contacting financial institutions for financial support. I've been so stressed out about it my eye keeps twitching. It's driving me mad! Not as mad as my self-imposed block is, but still pretty nuts. But today I've made the first few steps of sending emails to people I need to meet. (I'm sure emails seem like a cop-out but the schedule I keep and the total inability to answer my cell phone at either job makes email the best way to reach me and to make meetings.) This whole endeavor is pushing me outside of my comfort zone. That's a good thing, but man it makes me uncomfortable. Nevertheless, here I go.

And We'll Celebrate With Burritos

For four years I hated my job. HATED. I worked for a place with such bad juju it affected my life in ways it shouldn't have. Though a little part of me died each time I walked in the front door I don't regret it. I don't regret the people I've met and all the wonderful experiences I've had because of it. For example, my friend Sarah got press passes to Duncan Sheik's new musical and took me to see it. And it was amazing. I even got to meet Two-fer from 30 Rock and Duncan Sheik himself. (That's huge. I almost played his debut CD down to a pulp I loved it that much.) It's a job that I wish I never had yet wouldn't be who I am without it.

One of the amazing people I met while working there is organizing a read-a-thon of To Kill a Mockingbird to raise funds for a literacy group in the Albany area. She asked me to be a reader and I've never been so honored. I'm up at 7:00 on Saturday and I, shockingly, don't know what to do with myself. Do I embrace my ancestry and read with a Southern accent? Or just do a Southern accent for the voices? I was advised to just do the voices and keep it real the rest of the time.

I'm going to confess something to you all. I've never read To Kill a Mockingbird. I've seen the play and I know the story. But the book and I never crossed paths. There were many books that weren't on my required reading list. Catch 22, The Sea and the Fury, Animal Farm, Catcher in the Rye. I've read many of them since. And I've liked most. Don't get me started on Catcher in the Rye. Seriously, don't. So I picked up TKaM in order to prepare for the reading and OMG I LOVE IT. I was immediately taken with the cadence of the prose. I felt like I was putting on a comfortable pair of jeans after wearing pantyhose all day. Every time I pick the book up I'm taken to a better place. It's wonderful.

This event is going to be big for me on many levels. I get to do something for a cause that deeply matters to me. That there are adults who can't experience what I do when I pick up a book like TKaM breaks my heart. My friend/mentor Karen was a volunteer with the literacy group. I loved hearing about her time with her mentee because she was directly helping someone better herself. It was inspiring. This event also gets be to sort of perform again. Though it's 20 minutes of me reading, it's 20 minutes of me using my voice- something I've told sounds pretty cool.

It's safe to say that Saturday will be a very good day. I can't wait.

What Am I Thinking?

I mentioned a few posts ago that I quit my job. The job that I was really excited about getting a year ago turned into a shit storm. My dream job was a dream realized only by the job description but not my supervisors. I asked until my face turned blue for more projects, specific projects, and all they gave me to do was print documents on letterhead and send people scripts. That was it. Of course the job was downsized right after I gave my notice. So it worked out a little bit since I was able to claim unemployment for time I otherwise wouldn't have.

Want to know why I quit my job? I was so upset with my current employment and the desperate fact that there was nothing better out there for me, I decided to go into business for myself. The book business. I want to open a bookstore in downtown Albany.

The fact that I can now talk about it in my current jobs and on this blog without fear of my bosses finding out about it is liberating. I haven't really had a chance to write about it until now because getting my act together is proving an uphill battle. Fear keeps gripping me. Fear of my current financial situation getting in the way of securing financing. Fear of not getting the retail space I want. Fear of failure. Of course I won't know until I try. And I would never forgive myself if I didn't try. There are very few woulda, shoulda, couldas in my life and I don't want this to be it.

I'm sick of working for incompetent bosses. Managers who have no management skills are too many to count. I'm lucky that the two part time jobs I have are fine (I'm not writing that to cover my ass, they legitimately don't know about this blog and no one at work(s) does either.) But I've had some shitty bosses who don't mentor or foster employee talents. Which is even more annoying when I'm standing there telling them I'm good at something and can handle it.

So. I want to be my own boss. And maybe boss some other people. I want to be a manager who makes employees feel valuable and like they are a part of something other than a way to get a paycheck and check out. I also want to be able to DO STUFF. My jobs have been so limiting and with no real responsibility. I'm tired of it. I want to take the bull by the horns. Whatever horns they be. I'll take 'em.

I took a one-day intro to bookselling back in May when I went to the national trade show for bookselling. I joined the American Booksellers Association. I am taking an entrepreneurial "boot camp" where I'm meeting all kinds of people who can help me in my business plan and help me know where to go to get money. I'm not taking it so much for the what, I've done a TON of research on legal things and accounting things, but the how, who and where. It's proving awesome. Too bad I can only go to one of the two nights a week because my schedule prevents me from attending both. I also met with the owner of another independent bookstore in Albany and she's going to let me apprentice in her store close to one of my jobs. I'm trying to do this smartly. But also within my budget. Sadly I can't afford to go to a three day workshop in bookselling down in Florida. Maybe if I didn't just pay for a wedding on my credit card I would. Que sera sera.

So here I went. And here I go. Wish me luck. And I'll let you know what's up.

I Did Not Make a New Friend Today

Pandora, a music site, can stream on my phone so I enjoy listening to that while on the bus. Today I forgot my phone and was subjected to the conversations around me. Usually there is very little talking or there's the occasional one-sided phone conversation. But today was a special day. There was a very chatty fellow on the 22 bus between Albany and Troy (a bus-line already known for sketchy characters that is only reinforced further with every single ride I take) and I was privy to an awesome conversation/monologue today.

They tried to put me in jail twice.
I *** his baby-mama.
This is my first drug charge. All I have is violent crimes.
The cops busted his door down looking for me now he's facing jail time for that shit.
I'm not gonna pop no crying girl.

I didn't know what to do with myself. I was terrified and interested at the same time. I should've been more terrified than I was but he excused himself when he bumped into another rider. Go figure.

Karma's a Bitch

Dear Motherfucker Who Stole My Bike,

You know, I really don't appreciate the fact that you took my bike. In fact, I think it's very rude. But congratulations c*ck sucker, you made the right choice in stealing my bike instead of the THREE OTHER BIKES RIGHT NEXT TO IT. ONE OF WHICH WASN'T EVEN LOCKED UP. My bike is freshly tuned up, I added a basket, an under-seat bag, and I made it really safe with a bunch of reflectors and flashy lights. Hell, it is so awesome I would steal it too. If I WAS A MOTHERFUCKING, SPINELESS, UNIMAGINATIVE, CALLOUS THIEF. But I'm not. So I wouldn't.

For your sake I really hope you either look like me or like a bearded hipster wearing clam diggers and slip-on Vans. Otherwise you're going to scream, "Hey, I'm a dick who stole this bike from a basement that was totally around a corner and out of sight from the street. In fact, I may or may not live in that fool's building. You'll never know. But you can probably guess it was an inside job. All you know for sure is that I totally don't belong with this bike. In fact, I look ridiculous. You might as well report me to the police and save them some time."

If I ever find you, dear bike thief, I am going to take a bat to your head. And you know what? I don't even like violence. I was seriously becoming a pacifist Quaker for a little while. You have driven me to the most violent thoughts I have ever dreamed. You have violated me and my fiance. I hope you rot in hell. No. I hope you go to prison for the myriad of other crimes you are surely committing and get shivved with a whittled toothbrush while eating crappy tapioca pudding. Maybe I'm being harsh. I hope it's chocolate pudding.

Get a job.
Katherine

A Late Bloomer

My computer at home has really been acting up so I wasn't able to post my pictures for a while. Please enjoy these blooms of Albany. I hope to catch some tulips soon. They popped out much earlier this year.

Inadvertently Sticking it to Big Brother

It is very safe to say I'm a rule follower. I don't go where I'm not supposed to and I fill forms out as perfectly as humanly possible. I've come a long way in realizing which rules are pointless and realistic so I don't follow all of them. But when I do chose to follow the rule, I do it fervently.

So the Census. Is it a rule? No. But it is government mandated participation. So I classify it as a rule. I was starting to get very excited about its arrival. Didn't you know the Census can give your community money for education? (I call malarkey. But a girl can dream.) I knew the form was coming thanks to all the radio and television commercials, ads for Census jobs and the helpful (totally wasteful) letter from Uncle Sam reminding me that a Census form was coming. So I looked for it. And looked for it. And never got it. I was kind of miffed. Especially since I got a nasty postcard reminding me that it is a federal requirement to fill out the damn thing. So I grabbed a generic one at the YMCA and Mike filled it out and I mailed it.

Fast-forward three days. I get my "second" personalized and bar-coded Census form. It told me, from its own mouth, that if I didn't fill it out a Census representative was going to get all up in my grill. I thought, my grill doesn't need all-gettin'-up-in so I filled out a second Census form and mailed it. I just couldn't be bothered to deal with a Census person who I'm sure is really very nice and just trying to make an honest living. But fuck that guy.

Did I just ruin everything or did I just get my community that much more education moolah? I'm going to say more moolah. Think about it, one of the neighborhoods down the street from me has the worst return rate in all of America. I have to make up for their lack of participation. I should be thanked by the Census. Thanked profusely with a New York teaching position created just for Mike. Down the street. That will never go away.

No More Fun at This YMCA

My YMCA is closing. And I am so bummed. Mike and I can find another gym that really isn't that far away but my friends from the gym who don't have cars and belong to that gym because of location are really screwed. As are all the at risk youth who play basketball there, the men and women from overcrowded shelters who engage in activities there to relieve the shelter's cramped space, the parents who rely on the Y for childcare and the employees who lost their jobs.

The whole thing upsets me so much. When the president and CEO told us in January that we had to find 700 new members by April in order to stay open but then proceeded to tell us about his plan for what to do with money once he closed our Y, I realized no matter how hard the community worked to keep it open under such short notice- it would close. It smacked of insincerity. Also, the president said "the last time I checked, National Grid didn't cash emotional checks." And then when we reached the goal, he subtracted all the non-renewals taking the total down. What a dick.

This is about more than the fact that Mike and I will have to drive to our gym instead of walk. And that we'll have to have an even earlier morning than we already do. Fine. Whatever. It will work out and may be better in the end. This is about the fact that a large part of this community will die on April 1st. Albany will become that much more pathetic and run down. And that is terribly sad. Apparently no matter how hard we try, Albany will just be more of the same. Sometimes the futility is suffocating.

A Great Experience

The grants meeting was productive. It had to be, we were only meeting for one day. It was so long, though. Eight and a half hours of grant overview. Sheesh. I can't be specific but I will say I wish we had more money to give away. It was really hard deciding how much money, if any, a project could get. And even after all that, we had to cut almost every amount given because there just wasn't enough money to go around. We had to get pretty pragmatic (our administrator said we were getting heartless but what were we supposed to do?) in the end.

Next year I am going to have a totally different approach to the grants approval process. My group approached our grant appropriation with the idea that we were going to fight each amount grant by grant but the committee didn't do that until the end. Other groups had more of a solid number to give and a more solid recommendation. Now that I know how to break it down I think next year will be even better and perhaps go smoother. I think we had a lot of newbies like me this year.

When it all comes down to it, on a personal level, I had a great time. It was so much fun talking about various arts projects and groups in the area. I now have a bunch of groups and activities that I would like to check out. I wish we could've talked more to each other about non grant stuff. There was a musician, some dance people, a lot of visual artists and some community members who know grant writing. It was really refreshing! I'm looking forward to auditing these events next year. I think it will be so great!

Just Can't Hide It!

A few weeks ago I was asked to be a member on a community arts grant panel. The panel is the second step in the approval process for groups to receive state funding for the following year's projects or events. This panel serves three counties in my area- Schenectady, Albany and Rensselaer. Readers of this blog (people who already know me, really) know that I care deeply about the arts. All of the arts. I love dance, print, mixed media, theatre, music- all of it. I want to make supporting and promoting the arts my career. So when I was asked to be on this panel I was elated and honored to become more of a direct proponent for arts in my community.

I'm really looking forward to this process for many reasons- I'll meet more artists who work in different fields; I'll find out about all the area groups that flew under my radar; I'm required to check in on events that get funding so I become more of a participant; I'll learn about a crucial step in the grants process; and overall I'll meet many interesting people who also care deeply about our artistic community. I couldn't believe I was asked. I'm so lucky that I can participate! This is just so thrilling for me I can't express it enough.

I meet with my committee tomorrow and I really hope I don't sound like a jack-ass. I'm the only newbie in the group so I'm going to try to be very prepared when I get there tomorrow. The first step to being prepared- eating something so I'm not preoccupied. The second step to being prepared- take copious notes on our assigned proposals. The third step to being prepared- remaining calm. The fourth, and most important, step to being prepared- being confident in my opinions and criticisms. I can do this and I can do this well. So excited!!

I Hope She Likes Yellow Crocs

I haven't been taking the same bus to work every morning the past week. I can't seem to get my morning routine down so I keep missing buses I think I can catch. It's not too troublesome because I live on a corner that has four different bus lines that I can take and I live a few blocks from another bus line that is free and a few more blocks from yet another bus line that is free (my grad school ID is good for something.) I've taken whichever bus I happen to catch when it shows up or when I plan better, I take the free one a few blocks away.

When I regularly catch the free one it's the same cast of characters at each stop. I wonder if I'll make any friends- my ride is short enough that I don't think I will, but a girl can dream- it's that regular. The other day I notice a woman who, to my recent knowledge, hadn't taken this bus before. She's in nursing scrubs and seems a little flustered because she almost missed the bus. No bother, that's been me before. When the bus gets downtown we each get off at the same stop. When I missed the regular free bus the next morning I decided to wait for the next free bus at a stop with a seat, a long block farther away from my regular stop. A few moments after I sit down the nurse shows up. Okay. She obviously lives in my neighborhood and works downtown. A mere coincidence. The third morning I take a bus I don't usually take that picks me up on my corner. The bus moves along its usual route and the woman gets on the bus at a stop between the usual pick-up spot and drop-off. Where does this woman live? It occurs to me that three unusual days in a row, this woman and I have found ourselves on three different buses.

This can only mean one thing. She's stalking me. I mean, why wouldn't she? I am so interesting looking with my iPod headset, PBS bag and cool glasses. She must be intrigued by my lunch box but can't muster the nerve to ask me about it. Maybe she wants to be my friend and thinks that creating a wacky situation where we keep taking the same different bus, I'll say something like, "we can't keep meeting like this" and give her my number. Then she'll call me, we'll get tea, she'll buy me my own scrubs for Christmas- wacky scrubs with Santas and reindeer on it, I'll buy her Crocs- they're so comfortable when you're on your feet all day, and we'll be instant besties. None of which would have happened if she didn't stalk my every bus move to give us the perfect meet-cute. What an effort! And just for me. How sweet.

Closure

The Albany police have some suspects in custody concerning the shooting that happened on my block last October. I can't believe that they arrested anyone at all considering there was nothing to go on after the crime. There was some speculation that the crime had connections to the victim's dad being a New York City police officer and then there was speculation that the crime was senseless. If the police have the right suspects my worst fear is realized- it was a robbery gone wrong.

The police aren't saying what brought them to these suspects. I almost don't care. They found and arrested three young men who tried to rob a man, shot him in the head, left him for dead and then went off and robbed someone else. You read about these things and watch them on Dateline- not expecting them to happen within earshot.

I thought that when they found someone I would feel relief or elation. I really don't feel anything. Well, I'm grateful for the hard work and I'm happy for the parents of the victim who can now have some closure. But I don't feel any safer. The arrested young men are accused of just riding around on their bikes when they decided to commit this awful crime. There is nothing to prevent something like that.

Banks and liquor stores get robbed all the time. It doesn't stop me from going into them to conduct business. Last October I was really scared to even walk home from a bus stop. I'm not scared anymore. I'm as diligent as I was before the crime. That's all we can really do.

To Downsize or Not to Downsize

Mike and I are thinking of taking our relationship to the next level. We may become a one car family. At least we're pretty sure we want to be one. I already exist like we have one car. I walk, take the bus, ride my bike, ride with friends and we coordinate who takes my car. His car is a pain in the ass. He drives it far more than I drive mine and he bought it with many miles already on it therefore it costs so much to maintain. I feel like if we eliminate one car with maintenance and payments then we can focus our money on keeping my PAID OFF car in tip top shape and save up for another car should we find that we need one.

Though I am super enthusiastic about this endeavor I do have some hang-ups. Though his car in annoying it's also almost paid off like my PAID OFF car. If anything happened to my car we'd have another paid-off car to move over to and keep care of. Another reason I'm hesitant is because what if I have a professional opportunity that requires a commute? I don't want not having a car or the financial means to buy another the reason I can't professionally advance. (Not like it's been a problem since I moved to Albany. There's not much to advance to.) I also don't want to fight over who gets the car.

There is a long list of pros and cons. I know we're going to make the best decision for ourselves financially and personally. I just wish I could get rid of my hang-ups and take the plunge. People have done it before. With kids. Surely we can do it the two of us... Let's find out! Or not. Ugh.

Everyone, Even the Homos

Today in the New York State Assembly a pivotal bill is trying to be passed by the Democrats. It's a bill that the governor has faith will pass in the State Senate. It's a bill that will bring equality to a minority group. It is a bill far too late in the making. It's a gay marriage bill. And it must pass. It absolutely must. It is a step that must be taken in order to create a truly free America.

When Proposition 8 failed in California I couldn't believe it. I just can't fathom how an entire population can vote to deny other human beings a basic right. It's infuriating really. As long as people aren't being forced to marry against their will and all parties involved are consenting adults, who cares who marries whom? Who CARES!? Whatever happened to live and let live? Live free or die? Do unto others?

This isn't an issue of the "sanctity of marriage," this is an issue of people forcing their beliefs on others. If marriage was so sacred and people feel they need the government to enforce this sacredness, then these same people need to lobby to make a divorce so difficult obtain that the divorce rate decreases dramatically. Isn't that what the government did with bankruptcies- they made them harder to declare because so many people were doing it? Shouldn't they do that with divorce? I bet you one MILLION dollars that if the government were to make divorce illegal or something very difficult to obtain, those very religious assholes would be the first to fight to bring it back. I guarantee those same people would declare, how dare you take away my right!

I say to them, how dare you keep this right from others? This is not an issue of religiosity. This is an issue of equality. An issue of civil rights. Modern marriage has nothing to do with religion. It has everything to do with combining two people's lives to create a family and a home filled with love. The point is, religion has nothing to do with making gay marriage legal. It has everything to do with gaining equal, legal rights for a population of Americans.

Can you fathom trying to visit your partner/spouse/lover in the hospital but you can't because you have no way to legally prove you are related to your partner/spouse/lover? You can't claim their pension plan if they die. You can't adopt a child who needs a home because your partner/spouse/lover is of the same gender as you. So on and so forth. It is unacceptable that our legal system makes these troubles a reality in thousands of people's lives. The denial of these rights is outright un-American, unconstitutional and unacceptable. Everyone deserves to marry whomever they love.

This bill needs to pass in New York State. I need it to pass in New York State. That way I can really mean it when I say I'm proud to be a New Yorker. That here in New York we're trying to create a better America. An America where equality is a given. The America that I believe in.

Tip-toe in These Tulips

One of my most favorite things about living in Albany is the Dutch history. Albany is one of the oldest cities in the country and one of the few with a visible Dutch influence. There are streets named after some of the earlier Dutch settlers, some of our oldest buildings are Dutch in design and our fair city has its tulips. In order to celebrate the unique background of Albany every Mother's Day weekend Albany has a Tulip Festival. Bands come to perform, vendors can sell their wares to thousands, and college kids can get drunk in the park without so much as a warning. I'm not a fan of the festival but I am a huge fan of the flowers the festival celebrates. Tulips are quite possibly my absolute favorite flower. Not only are they lovely but they are a hearty flower. I find them to be a symbol of strength and tenacity. Beautiful stubbornness.

Tulips are actually not Dutch in origin. They hail from Persia. Tulip bulbs were presented as gifts to different nations from different nations and sort of found its way to Western Europe. I guess the Dutch had little in the way of a national symbol so they picked the tulip. And boy, did tulips play a huge part over there. Tulip speculation caused one of the biggest economic crashes in Dutch history. But I digress. All that matters to me is that I live in a place that plants tulips all over the friggin' place. And I love it. Join me in my love of tulips. These are pictures from the park a block from my apartment.

Really Universe?

A few years ago my passenger side mirror was knocked off. It was hanging by the power mirror wire until someone decided to rip it off and take it. So I replaced it. A few months ago someone broke the same mirror but was nice enough to not steal it. The glass was broken out so I replaced it. Yesterday, Mike told me someone nicked my driver side mirror. The glass is still there and the wires still work. However, there is no side to my side mirror. Looking at it from inside my car, it appears artistic. I couldn't get a good look at it in the dark but something tells me liquid can get in there and fuck things up. So, I think I'll replace it.

I really want to blame college kids for this one like I could blame college kids for the other. Since it was previously my passenger side it meant only one thing- passerby. Drunken, sloppy, douchey, inconsiderate passerby. This time it is very likely that my car was simply clipped by another car. With the snow not being cleared properly in Albany (I mean come on!! It's not like we've never gotten snow before!!) cars have to hang in the street a little more than usual. So I can see how it is a simple and logical possibility. Mike says that kind of stuff happens when you park on the street in a city. But that doesn't mean I can't be raging mad about it.

I can see the end of my car payments. They are in reach. I've been paying off Cagney for five and a half years. She is almost mine. I CAN TASTE IT. But for the past six months I've been walking around with a knot in my stomach. Every time I hear a thud at our intersection I run out to check if my car is involved. I'm just waiting for it. And here I am with ANOTHER BUSTED MIRROR and I'm convinced it will lead to trouble if it goes unchecked and I will lose my car forever and never EVER see the end of car payments. The only reason I could afford my car in the first place is because of a sinfully low interest rate that I will NEVER SEE AGAIN. *insert unintelligible ranting here* Sigh.

Karma, I would prefer a detailed memo of what I'm doing wrong instead of a string of broken side mirrors. Mmmmk? Thanks.

The Ratings That Never Were

Dear Channel 8 and Channel 10 News,

Remember me? I'm the young, articulate and quite attractive young woman with the fabulous hair and amazing teeth you interviewed last night while friends of mine and I were celebrating the inauguration at Citizen Action's party at Envy Lounge. I said some pretty insightful things about how the world can start to look towards America to lead competently in the global theatre and how Americans can walk around Europe with their heads at eye level- if I say so myself. You were so impressed that Channel 8, you told me to check me out at 10pm and Channel 10, you told me to check myself out at 11pm.

How excited I was that I could feel like more of Mike's family by appearing on television. You see, Mike's parents, grandparents, some uncles and brother have a knack of being caught on camera while doing things around town. So, I was thrilled to tell my future mother-in-law that I was going to be on the TeeVee. I was going to send the links to my family members- all of whom live out of state. Oh, the joy we would all share.

Well. Imagine my surprise when I turned on Channel 8 and there was no me. That's okay I guess. Channel 8, you didn't even have a microphone. You were open and said that you really just wanted shots of excited people with signs. I thought we were just having a one-on-one chat. You sort of made up for it with the ridiculous lead-in about a robbery at a Party Store in Detroit where "during this robbery no one was having fun." Like a party store that was really not a party store at all but a neighborhood market where I can cash my checks and by a 40 oz in one stop would really be a fun time without the robbery. (Actually, it's more dangerous than fun... It's sort of evil to provide a check service in a convenience store- I'll be so depressed about my puny check that I'll just buy a ton of malt liquor. Take about convenience!) To make me feel even better, you showed footage of a young man without a shirt but with a winter hat lazily whack the place up with a stick when the teller refused to give him money during said robbery.

And as for YOU Channel 10... You had a microphone! You asked me how to spell my name! You asked me way more questions than expected! You gave me broken promises! I stayed up past my bedtime! Who cares if you interviewed a bunch of other people whose interviews you didn't use? Who cares if your segment was only two minutes? And who cares if no one wants to hear about the opinion of a middle-class white girl in the election of our first African-American president? Bollocks to you!

Whatever. I'm awesome. Think of the ratings I could've given you. You will never see numbers that staggering. And who's fault is that?

Sincerely,
Katherine "I'm Just Too Awesome for TV" Sassafrass

The Little Things

On Christmas Eve, while Mike and I were enjoying a wonderful time with friends (and I was enjoying a wonderful time with a bottle of white wine), someone unlawfully entered my car. I can't say my car was broken into because nothing was broken and nothing was done to my car to cause alarm. It was unlocked. Yeah... So we didn't notice until we left at almost 1am and I saw my glove compartment was open and things were strewn about. Someone had taken all of my CDs out of the car (sad face,) popped the trunk, and then took one of Mike's beer buckets to carry all of the CDs. They also took something I use to play my iPod over the radio, all the pennies from my ash tray and my hand lotion and chap stick that I keep in reach of the wheel. They didn't look in the back seat at all which would've gotten them some running shoes and a singing Santa doll. I guess they were kind of stupid- not only did they not get running shoes but they, thankfully, didn't steal an Ez-Pass or any vehicle information.

This was something of a bummer being Christmas Eve and all but Mike and I reasoned that if someone was going through cars to steal crap on Christmas Eve it meant a few things- they had no one else to spend it with, they needed that stuff way more than we did, or they had a terrible drug habit. Maybe all of the above. The fact that they didn't steal anything that required work, like a vehicle registration, leads me to believe drugs and sheer desperation. I'm just grateful nothing was rendered irreparable or nothing terribly valuable was taken (though Mike would disagree about his beer bucket.)

We've since replaced the iPod gadget and a CD that was too new to find cheaply and I am in the process of acquiring the other CDs at little or no cost. I wonder if the thief will enjoy their new Aimee Mann or Film School albums. I doubt their neighborhood will want them for any amount of money. They picked the wrong car to thieve unless their market likes indie and Madonna. What I couldn't understand was the stealing of the chap stick and hand lotion. The pennies too but money is money.

No matter all the headache remembering what CDs were taken. I have the last laugh. Yesterday I was in my car for the first time in a while and when I went to adjust my floor mat what did I find? My chap stick!! Sucka what? That's right! Victory is mine!!

This Is What I Get?

Mike and I are having dinner in Bennington with friends tonight and I dropped him off at a carpool location this morning so he and I can drive all the way back home in one car. I do not like driving his car since it's a totally different size than mine and an automatic and it's had more troubles than my car. I just don't want to be driving it when one of those odd things or scary noises happen and I don't know if it's a new problem or something that will turn the car into a ball of flames. That and I prefer manual transmission in the Northeast because I find it much more comforting to drive manual in certain conditions and manual transmission gives me the semblance of more control (lack of control is where all of my stress and worry comes from.) Besides, Cagney is a much, much, cuter vehicle.

Sure, some would think I'd prefer to drive a C-RV in winter weather but I just think lower lying cars are better when the roads are clear AND when they are mired. Whatever, it all comes down to what you know. And I know my car even if I haven't driven her much for the past nine months. We have the previous five and a half years together. That's a history, people!

So here I am this morning all ready to get into Cagney thinking the only thing that would take extra time is the ice on the windshield. Heh. I'm dumb. I haven't moved the car since Tuesday and we've had some awesome winter weather lately. And by awesome I mean shitastic. There's been ice and snow and sleet. Fine, whatever. I walk to work. Except for today- when I want to drive to Vermont of all places- and I can't get my car out because one whole tire is surrounded by a lovely ice cocoon. And it's a front tire, something whose mobility is imperative when you have front wheel drive. Bleh.

I can't even be mad. The ice wrap is just a testament to my committment to driving less. But instead of freezing my jubblies off chipping at ice I would prefer a parade. Universe, get on that. Mmmk?