In a New York Minute

OK...I'm really over up-and-back trips to NYC. It's tiring, expensive, and just getting annoying. Thank goodness I won't have to do it anymore.
That being said, I had a job interview yesterday that went well- the woman was really nice, the job seems fun and non-stressful, and I think she liked me. She said she'll get back to me in a week, so keep your fingers crossed. After the interview, in FRIGID New York weather, I hunted apartments. I was a bit disappointed that some of my phone calls were unreturned, but did come upon a contender! It's on the Upper West Side, right near Columbia, and is a block from the train. It's a good price, GREAT location, but is a bit small. It's also currently being renovated, so it was completely bare. I'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing- I think it's good?
So it appears that headway is being made. Now I have to start in on the mess that is my current apartment. I have a lot of cleaning/purging/deciding how I'm going to make room for my gowns to do. Anyone wanna do it for me?

Laundry List

First of all, let me start out by saying that I am surprised more of you didn't comment on the Morrissey karaoke video! C'mon, people! This is the one and only time you can prove that I sang karaoke. It won't happen again. Plus, it's right creative! Phong did a good job. Seriously.
Secondly, it's Friday, which means no one is here. OK...there are 3 of us here. 3 out of the usual 9. Which means I have to answer the phones, and I hate answering the phones. There are several lines that could be ringing at once, and I do not have any of the answers for callers' questions. So I just have 50 post-its on my desk, all messages from different people, for someone else to deal with. Sorry, but that's not my job.
And lastly, the driving in this city really will be the death of me, that is if I die before I move. But I'm hoping that doesn't happen. I just don't get it- the horrible disregard for traffic rules, the self-righteousness, the Nascar-like conditions. Yes, I've been accused of having road rage...but I'm NOTHING compared to these morning rush-hour jackass drivers. Alas...only a month left.
Tonight, my sister and I have a date- dinner and the symphony. I'm looking forward to it! I like to think that when I move to New York, I'll frequent the Met and the NYPhil. But, that probably won't happen. That takes money, and time- 2 things I think I'll be short on. But who knows...throw in a fabulous sugar daddy, and my schedule can rearrange itself.

Shut Down

I almost forgot...I beat Ashley in RB (racquettball) last night! That's right....her winning streak is O.V.E.R. Now, neither of us are particularly "good" at RB, but we do have a lot of fun playing. Basically, we laugh the entire time, get some good exercise, and (as of last night), try NOT to talk in a Baltimore/Hanover accent. That was the real challenge- I slipped up twice.

I've Made up my Mind

Bring Him Home

About 2 weeks ago, a change took place in my building's cafeteria. As usual, I stopped in the caf first thing, to get my morning dose of caffeine, and my java wasn't waiting for me. That's because my coffee guy wasn't there! At first, I thought maybe he was just sick...but a week and a bitchy barista later, he STILL wasn't there. It's now clear that he's gone. Perhaps he got another job, maybe he was transferred to a different cafeteria, but he's not my barista anymore...and that is sad.
He was so nice and pleasant- always knew exactly what I wanted (a very rare quality in a man), always made pleasant conversation, and kind of looks like Pharrell, but not as hot. Now, there is some super bitchy ghetto girl working the counter, who NEVER smiles, is always slow, and doesn't even tell me how much I owe her. She just gets my coffee, rings it up, and stands there, looking at me, with her arm extended. I don't like this one bit. In my book, Baltimore scores a 30% as far as customer service goes, but my barista guy gave me hope. Maybe he hated his job, maybe that's why he's gone, but he certainly never came across that way.
I guess I was fooled. Wouldn't be the first time.

Is there Life on Mars?

Last night, I had a sex dream involving David Bowie. Yup....Ziggy Stardust himself. In the raw. It was vivid too...I can remember the details as I type this, and let me just say- since I'm not currently getting laid, at least I'm having good dreams about it. Now, don't get me wrong- I am NOT attracted to Mr. Bowie. I love his music, image, and pretty much everything about him- but I don't want his dils. Luckily, according to the dream websites I read (and they HAVE to be correct, right?), rarely the person with whom you are doin it' is the person with whom you actually want to be doin it' in real life. I like that analysis. Whenever I have sex dreams, it's usually with a random person. Unless it's a sex dream about Dan. (Sorry Dan, don't mean to embarrass you...I'll edit this if you want). Those dreams are all true! Just kidding....not really...

So don't tell Iman- she might get mad. You think he brings her tomato juice after sex too? He did with me!

Eureka

As you all know, I'm giving a recital in 2 weeks. Yikes. Not being in school, A.K.A not needing this to count for a grade, takes some of the pressure off. I don't HAVE to have 4 different languages, or 4 different time periods represented, and it doesn't HAVE to be a specific number of minutes. But, it's a performance nonetheless, and I like to think that my 6 years of schooling are put to good use. I know how to walk out, bow, what to wear, when to acknowledge the accompanist, how to stand, how to not look nervous, etc. Achieving all of that is a different story...but at this point, I think it all comes together nicely.
Of course my voice has changed since college....age takes care of that, as does hormones and proper teaching. And as most of us know, the learning never stops when it comes to singing, We pray our technique is a good enough foundation to get us started, and we go from there. But when is the last time you pulled out a recording of yourself...say...5-6 years ago? Maybe a recital, or opera, or choral concert?
As someone who has always hated listening to/watching herself, it's difficult for me to dust off those old recordings. But I did it. I found my Junior Year (from WVU) recital, and gave it a listen. My Junior recital was a joint recital, so half of the program was me, and the other half was my friend and roommate at the time, Dee on cello.
Incidentally, Dee will be playing on my upcoming recital- and we're doing 2 of the pieces we did together *gasp* 6 years ago.
Yesterday, while rehearsing with Dee, she said to me, "Wow. I remember this being a lot faster. You have gained some great breath control." I thought about it for a few minutes, and realized she was right. I HAVE gained breath control. I hope I've grown in the past 6 years, but it's nice to get that confirmation. I wonder what I'll sound like 6 years from now...

Inky

Head on over to my sissy's blog (Cityrat) to check out her new tattooy. Pretty sweet.

Hehe

http://www.themorningnews.org/archives/personal_essays/im_your_biggest_fan.php

Living in Hell

I am actually living in hell right now. It's about 90 degrees in my apt., and only hot water is coming out of the faucets. It's so hot, it's difficult to breathe. Can I control the heat? No. If I could, it CERTAINLY wouldn't be stuck on the "hot as fuck" setting. And since it's Sunday, there is really no way of getting in touch with my landlord. I called a left a few messages, but that won't help.
So we're actually living in hell. It's 20 degrees outside, I'm wearing shorts and a tee-shirt. Have I mentioned I'm ready to move?

Doll Crazy

Have you all seen these things? It's a like a paper doll..but online (obviously). It took me 25 minutes to create this damn thing. What a waste of time! *Note to self- create more dolls at work*.
Anyway, I've seen these things on Myspace pages, and had to try it. I won't be posting mine on my Myspace page because I think that's stupid. But I sure will blog it!

Elevator Etiquette

Morning is off to a bad start when it comes to elevator bullshit. People are stupid, yet amaze me. I seriously think that some of these idiots believe there is a tiny man operating the elevators, taking requests in the form of obsessively-pushed buttons. I encounter these geniuses on a daily basis, and I've had enough. I'm thinking about typing up a list of rules and posting it on elevator-side bulletin boards around the building. Hell, these brainiacs have to read SOMEthing when they're pushing the "up" arrow for the 15th time in a row. My list would go a little something like this:

1. Only push the "up" or "down" arrow once. And be patient, for God's sake. We all have somewhere to be.
2. Don't push me out of the way to get on the elevator first. I've been standing here either just as long or longer than you, so get over it.
3. Please don't stand so close to me (don't stand so...don't stand so....don't stand so close to me!).
4. You only need to hit your floor button once. It won't forget after the doors have closed.
5. Stop obsessively hitting the "door close" button. Besides being COMPLETELY ANNOYING, the elevator doors WILL close without you coaxing them. This does nothing except piss me off.
6. Don't stare at me. Seriously, it's creepy.
7. I can't believe you took the elevator up one floor you lazy shit.


Whaddya think? Good idea?

You Have Killed Me

Well friends, I did it- I sang karaoke. I didn't think I would ever say those words again. The one and only time (besides last night) that I've sung karaoke was when I was 18 and wasted in London. I sang "Somewhere Over the Rainbow"- who sings that for karaoke??? Apparently, me. As Robert said, the thing about karaoke being so terrifying for me is the fact that in bar, everyone thinks they can sing. Everyone thinks they rock. Nevermind my training, experience, and ability to perform in front of thousands. You put me on a stage in front of 30 buzzed strangers, and I'm shakin'.
The bar was pretty empty- only the die-hard Baltimore Smiths fans were present. True to form, as Robert pointed out, there are tell-tale signs of male Morrissey fans- that includes Doc Martens and tapered jeans. It also includes biker jackets, and/or a 60's British rock band suit. It went surprisingly well. It wasn't karaoke, so much as it was "Sing along with this Morrissey track". I kind of liked that, because it cued me. I sang "The more you ignore me, the closer I get". I only looked at the lyrics sheet once or twice...but did it from memory for the most part. I asked Ashley, "Did I sound like an idiot?" She said, "You sounded like an opera singer doing karaoke".
Is that so bad?

Heartbreak Hotel

Let me preface this by saying I mght be jumping to conclusions.

We all know and love Myspace..or Friendster...or Facebook..or whatever the hell other glorified singles website we obsessively log into. OK, so maybe we're not all obsessed...just at night. I've had the most luck with Myspace, as I've found a ton of old college and high school friends; it's a great way to find out what people have been up to over the years. People I once did keg stands with are now fathers, wives, doctors, in England, or poor musicians- sounds familiar. At any rate, I found an old friend a few days ago and was really surprised to find him. I had looked for him before, but didn't have any luck. Turns out I should have entered his email address as a search tool. So I did- and voila! We haven't spoken in about 1.5 years, and haven't communicated in over a year. Our last bit of communication was an email, from him, apologizing for being a bad friend and pledging to be a better one. It was kind of surprising. True, he hadn't been a good friend for many years, but I just sort of accepted that about him. I responded to the email saying, yes..we can start over...I'm still your friend. No response. Cut to last week, when I Myspaced messaged him. Thrilled that he's not dead, I sent him a message. I sent his friend, who I know, a message. His friend wrote back immediately and said he was happy to hear from me.
I hadn't heard anything from my friend, so I checked his page to see if he had logged on. Sure enough, he did...last night. Did I get a return message? Did he add me as a friend? No and no. Now, as my sister pointed out, maybe he didn't have time to sit down and write a nice, long, sorry-I-haven't-spoken-to-you-in-over-a-year email, but methinks not. I think it's another classic case of yours truely getting shut out. Why does this keep happening? Seriously.
So, if any other long-lost friends plan on shitting on me, save yourself the trouble. I already know what's going to happen.

Apparently, this is me.

Your Candy Heart Says "First Kiss"

You're a true romantic who brings an innocent hope to each new relationship. You see the good in every person you date, and you relish each step of falling in love. Your ideal Valentine's Day date: a romantic dinner your sweetie cooks for you Your flirting style: friendly and sweet What turns you off: cynics who don't believe in romance Why you're hot: you always keep the romance alive

What Does Your Candy Heart Say?

To All you Lovers out there...

Happy Valentine's Day. I've only had a Valentine date twice in my life...well, 3 times if you count last year, but he's an asshole, so I don't. I remember getting really offended when a certain boyfriend made alternate plans on Valentine's Night. Man was I pissed...I had bought a little number and everything, and I didn't even get to wear it.
Luckily, the only man I'll be swooning over tonight is Morrissey. That's right. Tonight, in celebration of pathetic lonely hearts everywhere, I'll be doing Smiths/Morrissey karaoke. For those of you who don't know, the Smiths was a very popular band in the 80's, lead by front man Morrissey. They broke up in '87 I think?, and many attest their demise to Morrissey. I don't really know the details- I was only 7. But I do remember listening to the Smiths as a 3rd grader...thanks to me older brother. Morrissey is one sappy guy- lovesick, pathetic, and self-loathing. My favorite combination! So tonight I'll celebrate this lovely day of days by singing along with the greatest Valentine of all time.

Xplosive

So...I'm listening to Dr. Dre. Is that OK? It's in spirit of my sister's concert experience last night- Wu-Tung Clan. That's right...Ashley, the punkest red-headed bitch at Sonar, was present for the Wu. She got in for free (I was jealous), and got completely wasted while bumpin' and grindin' to some hardcore rap. Ok, I don't know if she was actually bumpin' OR grindin', but in my mind, she was...and with a whole lotta brothas.
But this reminds me of the time in high school, the one and only time, I had a crush on a "wigger". Yes, his name was Dan (apparently my affinity for Dans began early), and he wore jerseys. JERSEYS, PEOPLE. He was pretty cute, though...and good at trig. (we sat next to each other). So, to impress Dan, I memorized all the members of the Wu-Tang Clan. At the time, I think there were 9 of them..or 7. Not sure. Let's see- Rza, Gza, Ghost-face Killah, ODB (Rest in Peace), U-God, Raekwon, Inspecta Deck, Redman, Method Man, Masta Killah. That's all I got. I think that's it.
Man....I do the stupidest things for boys.

I want one

This is the dog I met today. Some people have baby fever. I have dog fever. Seriously, I want one. It's starting to hurt.

What you Wanna do is take the M66 Cross-town...

Well I had my first dose of New York reality today- apartment viewing in Harlem. Oh...and a job interview that went well..but back to H-town. Robert, Amanda, and I all agreed we don't want to live in Harlem. I mean, it's no East Baltimore, but it also isn't the most desirable place for 3 young 20-something white kids to live. That being said, I was pleasantly surprised today when I got off the train at 137th and Broadway. I don't know what I thought it was going to look like, but I was picturing E. Monument St., only cleaner. It really looks nothing like E. Monument St. at all- it's not Bed Stuy. It's quaint, old, historic, and there were white and Asian people on the street. Besides being cold as balls, it was a gorgeous day for apartment hunting. The place I saw today was a good start...it wasn't bad, again not what I expected, but it gave me an idea of what we can get for our money. Besides my friends' apartments in New York, which are obviously already rented, I had nothing to go on. But now I do...and it's time to aim a little higher.
So, I probably won't end up in Harlem (with any luck), but I probably won't have a 900 Cathedral St.-style apartment either. Somewhere in the middle will do nicely. Either that or meet an incredibly wealthy older man, who owns a townhouse on the Upper East Side, and is looking for a "housekeeper". Yeah...that's it... a housekeeper.

Brokey

So, much like Robert, I did a double take at my month's finances...and quickly discovered that I'm pretty much broke. I had to take money out of my savings to pay bills this month. That money is for New York, and I've spent some of it. This is bad. Very bad. I'm hoping to GOD that whatever apartment we find won't want $2,000.00 the day of siging the lease. Because if that's the case, I guess I'll have to sell something...like a kidney..or my virtue. Wait...

Anyway, yes, Robert, adult life sucks. Real bad. Now excuse me- I have to make sure I have 3 dollars to get a beer at Smiths/Morrissey karaoke next week.

Buh...

One of the great things about working for the head, although soon-to-be-stepping-down-head, of Neuroscience is the crazies. He gets letters from crazies around the world, alerting him of world domination, plague, death and destruction...you name it, it comes here. Normally, his secretaries are the ones who have to weed out the "fan mail", and in the process, show the real crazy letters around the office. But now it seems like I might be on the receiving end as well. This is an email I just recevied:

I AM A FIRST YEAR MEDICAL STUDENT IN KWAME NKRUMAH UNIVERSITY OF SCIENCE AND TECHNOLOGY.AFTER MY PRE-MED AND MY CLINICAL STUDY, I WOULD LIKE TO SPECIALISE IN NEUROSURGERY SO TO BECOME A NEUROSURGEON.PLEASE, CAN THE STUDY OF NEUROSCINCE TAKE ME TO MY CAREER AND HOW WOULD I APPLY IN JOHN HOPKINS MEDICAL SCHOOL TO FURTHER MY EDUCATION?

Umm....what? Now, this COULD be spam...we get a lot of that here. But I don't think so. Is my email address floating around out there in crazy-neuroscience-land? Most likely. Luckily I'll be done with this job in less than 2 months (or not so luckily, as it's the best job I've ever had), and I'll encounter a whole new brand of crazy in New York.

Finally!

Blogger wasn't working all morning...as many of you probably know...so my irritation in this post is a bit delayed. But have no fear; I'm still pissed.
This morning, while unlocking my car door, I noticed a note on my windshield. On PROZAC paper, the note reads, "The next time you block my driveway, I will have you towed away!" (Underline underline underline.) Now, I'm not gonna lie...I was partially blocking this driveway...by about 6 inches. That was after I circled the block 5 times last night, at 9:15, looking for a space..and came up with nothing. Clearly, this asshole still had room to back out..otherwise, how would he have left for work? No car sitting in the driveway...so that leads me to believe SOMEHOW he managed to get around my gigantic cadillac..oh wait, I don't drive a gigantic cadillac...and be on his way. This is the same man (and I'm assuming it's a man because of the horrible handwriting) who parks his van on the street in front of his house, even though he has a driveway and a garage. Makes perfect sense, don't you think? I know if I had a garage, I'd still take up space on the street just to piss everyone else off.
So, my plan is to park in front of his house as much as possible now...NOT blocking the driveway, but blocking his potential street-van-space. Have I mentioned I can't wait to move?

Eeeeeeiiiiiioooooowwwwwwwwweeeeeeiiiiioooooowwwww

Gotta love G&R. "Don't Cry" is a great song.

But seriously, folks...where is Jay Jordan? He hasn't been commenting lately. Everything OK, Jay? Are you still out there? I thought we had a good blogging relatonship.

Guilty!

C'mon, haven't we all been here? (Or, are here...perpetually...)


http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2006/02/05/AR2006020501139.html

Well It was Bound to Happen

"I want fight for what's right," Waggoner said. "The biggest travesty is the childrens' education." When initially asked what they knew about the opera, she said, her students said, "fat women screaming," "people yelling in Viking hats," and "I hate it." After seeing the Faust video, "they got excited by opera, but now they associate it with a four letter word," Waggoner said.


Now Opera is the reason for our country's demise. Of course! That stupid Gounod.

http://www.playbillarts.com/news/article/3850.html

Pearl Necklace

First of all, YEAAAAA STEELERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I laughed so much this weekend that my abs are sore. And my back hurts, but I think that's a different story.

I need more weekends like this one.

Eeexxxcellent

I love Ron. Ron is the core/gluts teacher extrondinaire at the Downtown Athletic Club- me gym of choice. Fondly referred to as "gay abs" by a small group of us, core/gluts is an ass-kicking (literally!) class held each Tuesday and Thursday night. Even Robert, who is in great shape, admitted that gay abs kicked his ass. The great thing about the class, besides the exercises themselves, is that Ron talks through the whole class. While doing all the cruches...times 10.
Last night, after a particularly painful session due to Ron's Bahamanian vacay, I told Robert that I plan to ask Ron for a videotape of his abs class, to take to New York. Memorabilia, if you will. Now, sometimes Ron reads my blog, so he might know of this request before I actually ask him, but I would love it! It's a great workout, he's a great teacher, and it works! I already feel like my core is shaping up. Of course, I'd have to agree not to stream it over the internet so it doesn't end up on bigmuscle.com or whatever that hilarious site is.
Eeeeexcellent!

Ugh

OK, I learned my lesson. I shouldn't eat Dairy Queen. You would think, years after switching from regular milk to soy, and limiting my dairy to about 2-3 servings a day instead of the standard 5, I would have learned. But, no. I pushed the envelope, and what it got me was a night, and still morning!, of intestinal hell.
I remember the days when Robert and I would work out at Hopkins gym, then go to Towson Town, where we would treat ourselves to a DQ Breeze, and browse Nordstrom Rack shoes. When we finished our sweets, we left our used DQ cups on the shoe racks (aren't we assholes?), and raced home before impending doom struck. Good times.
Last night, after a disappointing look at H&M, Robert, Phong, and I stopped at DQ. I knew I shouldn't have ordered anything...aside from being super diligent lately about my exercise and diet, I knew it would cost me. But, I did it anyway. That blizzard sure did taste good at the time, but as soon as I got home, I started paying for it. And paying for it. And paying for it. I hardly slept, and this morning, I am still ailing. No good.
I'm really hoping this is out of my system soon, because Ratface and I have guests coming to town tonight. And I need my bowels in tact for some drinking!

I'm 12

OK, so I wasn't sure if I should write about this or not, but I know you are all dying to know what I'm thinking about right now, so here goes.
I have a crush. A HUGE crush. This is a crush I've had for years, but it laid dormant until about a week ago. I'm not going to name names, for fear that my crush will somehow read this, but if he does I guess I'm fucked.
Anyway, so this crush. Like I said, it's been a loooooooong time crush- one of those crushes you have forever. You might forget about him, move on, get married, have a life, and every now and then he pops into your head and you are 12 all over again. With my crush, I don't really know him all that well. We had common friends, hung out a few times, but that was about it. But I loved him. Every girl did, and probably still does. He just has this charming, smooth, easy-going way about him...plus he's super easy on the eyes.
So my crush makes me feel like a 6th grader..is that bad? I don't think so. In fact, I think it's great. Will anything ever happen between us? Most likely, no. But I don't mind living in my head for a little while.

Heart, We Will Forget Him

For those of you who don't know, I'm doing a recital Sunday, March 5, 5 PM- Church of the Redeemer in Bethesda. There! Advertised.

At any rate, I'm doing several of the Emily Dickinson Copland songs. They are really interesting. They seem simple enough, but that's what they say about Mozart too. The poetry itself, of course, is gorgeous and really makes the melodies come alive. Being that this is my first time singing Copland, I was a bit unsure if I was communicating well enough. In my lesson a few days ago, Ruth told me that I had "learned them beautifully" and had nothing to worry about. She said whatever recording I was listening to is good, but why don't I listen to hers. Folks, not only is this her on the recording, but Copland himself was in the audience the night this recording was made. HELLO! COPLAND. Talk about nervous.

Well, after the performance, he approached her, took her face in his hands, and said "You made me cry. You made me forget I wrote those songs."

Annnnnnnnnnnnnd wow. I would have fainted. She said she cried and cried.

So, Copland, if you are honorarily there for my performance, give me a little nudge. Lord knows I need all the encouragement I can get!

It's Not You, It's Me...

Haven't we all been there before? I know I've actually used that line...and have heard it. But, as the Phat Phree says, there's nothing quite like saying "fuck off" like the break-up mixed cd. I've always been a HUGE fan of the mixed cd...not just for boyfriends, but for anyone. I think it's a great way to share a little bit of my life with someone else. And since music is just about the most important thing to me, what better way to say "I love you", or "Happy Birthday!", or "Rot in hell".

http://www.thephatphree.com/Features.asp?SectionID=11&StoryID=2072&LayoutType=1


Personally, I wouldn't dream of making a break-up mixed cd without including "Last Goodbye" by Jeff Buckley, "Pictures of You", by the Cure, "Radio" by Alkaline Trio, and "Screaming Infidelities", by Dashboard Confessional.

And you?