Saturday, December 29, 2007

On Delay, On Delay

I made it home in one piece last week for the Christmas festivities. Airport waiting areas, irritable flight attendants and chatty pilots aside- all was merry and bright.

To coronate our first Christmas in our new house, my parents decided to facilitate as many people as possible during the four and a half days I was home. We hosted a dinner party for 22 on Sunday, everyone was assigned to work on a dish and then everyone ate family-style. Things were getting crowded in the kitchen, so my friend RW and I headed outside to my dad’s outdoor kitchen to create our chicken enchiladas. It was a whopping 37 degrees outside, and my brother and his friend were in charge of the margarita machine (which was also outdoors), so we all stole North Face fleeces from my dad’s closet and got to work.

Ten hours later, my brother and dad were manning the stove indoors, serving up made to order omelets country club style for my dad’s side of the family. The two of them have made eggs an art form. I never used to eat them before I tried the ones they made. They’d convert the pickiest of eaters.

Among the omelet eaters was my cousin and his wife’s youngest son JH, who is four-years-old. He wasn’t so much into the gourmet eggs as the gumball machine he found upstairs. Being the one who showed him how to use it, I was responsible for him when he came bounding down the stairs- herringbone pants, black blazer (with matching tie) and all, chomping his rainbow assortment of gum.

My bad.

The night of Christmas Eve was spent, as usual, at my aunt and uncle’s house in Plano, Texas, eating Mexican food and relaxing. I was, however, introduced to a fun new little game called Rock Band, which was up and running in my cousin KH’s room after dinner. Rock Band includes a guitar, a microphone, and best of all- drums. My attempts were quite dismal- even on level Easy. I was like the mom who is trying to be hip with her kids who are way more technologically advanced. A few months out of college and I’m totally out of the loop. I also have no rhythm, which contributes to my lack of skills necessary for Rock Band success.

Christmas Day itself was great- my family always goes to movies in the afternoon on Christmas, and this year we elected to see “National Treasure: Book of Secrets”. It was good- as sequels go, definitely good. Leonardo di Caprio is our usual go-to Christmas day Blockbuster poster child- Titanic, Catch Me If You Can, Gangs of New York.

A funny revelation I had over the weekend was the overlapping of my brother’s and my Christmas gifts this year.

The DVD of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix? Check.
Dressy patent leather shoes? (His were to go with his tux, for the record). Check.

Like brother, like sister. Or something like that. I wish I was also going on the ski trip he’s getting, but some of us have to WORK.

Our good friend CC is on her way to the city for a long weekend right now. Her flight was artificially delayed (she was told it was late, only to arrive at the airport to find it leaving without her) so we’re hoping she gets here in one piece. I’m sure that would be comforting for her to hear about now… after midnight, stuck at the airport in New Jersey.

We all had half-days at work today, so we got to play all afternoon. We met up at Rockefeller Center, which was a poor choice considering the influx of people that have already arrived in the city for New Year’s Eve. AV compared us to prisoners who get out of jail, and then don’t know what to do with themselves, and end up back in the slammer.

Lucky for us, after our busy day we got to come home to fresh groceries and High School Musical I & II on T.V. My first experience with HSM I was actually at CC’s house in College Station, where she lived with four other girls. My roommate MH and I had been over to watch Grey’s Anatomy and eat Pei Wei with our friend DM, and after the show the topic of HSM came up.

Neither of us had ever seen it- so in a fury of DVD cases and remotes and a few pillows, we were set for the night. Confused, MH and I sat in wonder at the fact that any time a musical number came on, all five girls would simultaneously appear to dance and sing along, and then subsequently disappear when the plot would pick up again.

I also can’t say we were that surprised.

"Family faces are magic mirrors. Looking at people who belong to us, we see the past, present and future."
–Gail Buckley

Friday, December 21, 2007

Blame It On The Day Job

I self-conciously made my way down the stairs of our walk-up this morning and out into the bustle, only to find that I was not the only one wheeling their Christmas luggage to work for the day. I briefly weighed the pros and cons of trying to get on the subway (for one stop) and after having a flashback of AV stuck in a subway turnstile with a suitcase, I chose to walk.

I was grateful for the 35 degree morning as I was managing my load- second guessing my choice to walk, but glad to not be dealing with stairs and commuters. I'm also choosing not to think of what a madhouse Penn Station is going to be at 5 PM today.

One of the great things about going home to Texas is that my parents are always there to pick me up in a CAR. I don't have to worry about cab prices, getting in late at night, absent shuttle drivers or any of the other things that could possibly go wrong once getting into the city.

KR and AV both took flights out last night to go home, leaving me at home to my own devices. My devices included, but were not limited to: baked Doritos, leftover Christmas cookies from a few days ago, college basketball and a new-found guilty-pleasure show.

AV called me from La Guardia to tell me that Chace-Something from "Gossip Girl" was on her flight. Two girls had just asked to take a picture with him, and so I looked him up on IMDB (the perfect website to access when you can't remember what other movie or show someone was in).

Some of our friends at work (did I mention KR and I work together now, by the way?) have talked about the show, and intrigued after AV's phone call, I ended up watching three episodes online. They weren't sequential, but I'm good at using context clues and so I picked up on the story line. Nevermind the fact that I had not started to pack.

After spending the week eating Christmas cookies, hors d'oeurves, cocktails and Diet Dr Pepper- mostly at work-related events, I'm ready to commit to some kind of New Year-New You philosophy. The day my gym-benefit kicks in, I'm joining the one in my building.

If I see one more piece of sugar covered in buttery sugar, I might vomit... or I might eat it, it could really go either way at this point.


Lucy: Beethoven's birthday is December 16th Shermy! Have you decided what you're going to get me?
Shermy: Yes! I'm not going to get you anything!
Lucy: What kind of a holiday is it where you don't give girls presents?
-Charles Schultz, Peanuts

Sunday, December 16, 2007

The Bareilles Incident

About a month ago I woke up in the middle of the night to hear “Love Song” by Sara Bareilles blaring from the iPod speakers in our kitchen/living area. Startled, I gingerly arose from my slumber to assess the situation. AV and KR’s room is at the very end of our apartment, right next to mine, but they were sound asleep. I walked down the hall to peer into the cove-like area, and saw AV’s iPod aglow, and upon closer inspection I found that it was, in fact, on and playing.

I told the girls about it the next day, and asked them if they had honestly heard nothing at 3AM, and they had not. AV’s iPod had acted up occasionally, and I thought that one of us might have accidentally hit the alarm button or something.

It was written off as an isolated incident until the night before last, when I awoke yet again to the same song. I was kind of singing to it when I woke up again, which was funny, and I thought I might be dreaming… but it’s when you think you’re dreaming that you realize you’re awake. And I was, again. I even pinched my arm to make sure. Again, I checked on the girls and they were snoozing away, and again I found AV’s iPod on and blaring.

I almost forgot about it happening until we were in a store in SoHo yesterday and I heard a song that reminded me of the repeat offense. I relayed my bizarre 3AM finding to the girls, and AV’s eyes got really big and she told me that she had turned her iPod on after KR and I had left early, and thought it was strange that her play list would start in the middle of a song when she had just turned it on. I was like “THANK YOU- I THOUGHT I WAS GOING INSANE.”

New rule: AV’s iPod is not to be left charging on the speakers after dark.

My only conclusion is that there is a tiny devil that lives behind our stove and likes possessing our appliances by night. Our microwave, (which, granted, was the smallest and cheapest Target had to offer)- now makes a whirring noise anytime it is plugged in and not in use. Our coffee maker randomly started pouring our water instead of brewing coffee one morning this week. Our gas oven will never start the first time, and forces you to peer your head inside it to make sure the blue gas light at the bottom comes on while you turn the knob. THAT can’t be safe.

Our Christmas tree is looking more and more reminiscent of Charlie Brown’s everyday. We are constantly dust-busting the needles that fall off of it, and our little vacuum now sounds like a maraca.

This whole planned-obsolescence thing is getting way out of hand.

“I’m not gonna write you a love song
‘Cause you tell me it’s
Make or breaking this,
If you’re on your way
I’m not gonna write you to stay…”

- Sara Bareilles, “Love Song”

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

Pigs Flew

Somehow I completely missed 'Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix' coming out on DVD today. How could I miss this?

I’ll tell you how: I have a job! It finally happened. It’s my turn to join the rigors of the working world: the whirlwind nine to five, the first-initial-last-name-@-company-dot-com e-mail circuit, the general hopelessness and hopefulness that comes with overall inexperience with real world work. It’s awesome- I love it.

What makes everything so much easier is my new friend MC. She is the assistant I replaced and she was promoted to a position within the same office, which means she is literally an e-mail, an IM, an inter-office phone call or a carrier pigeon away. One of these days she’ll get a Blackberry and I will have texting, calling and Blackberry Messenger capabilities with her. She might cut me off one day, and I wouldn’t blame her. She went to Auburn, and we have mutual friends, so it might not be as easy as one would think.

So I’m now getting acclimated to my new schedule. The real kicker is the commute-

11 blocks. 11 whole blocks.

I know- brutal, huh? I literally walk to work and it takes less than 10 minutes. Who needs a car when you have your own two feet? That’s what I always say. Unless you have a car… then by all means, drive.

KR’s mom and grandmother were in town for her uncle’s birthday on Saturday. I spent the day browsing and buying for my family for Christmas. I roamed around Columbus Circle and then made my way over to the East side. I went into Crate & Barrel to browse their selection of holiday décor, like all of the other 40-year-old moms in the city, and I stopped by Bloomingdale’s for the hot chocolate.

AV slept in my room on her air mattress, held over from our Murray Hill days of long ago, which meant we got to have a sleepover all weekend. It started feeling little a youth group weekend, specifically Disciple Now-ish. There were lots of people in a confined space, hand-held games and parents involved. When Mrs. R told us “lights out”, we almost died laughing.

Mrs. R also bought us a bathroom shelf from Bed Bath & Beyond, which included assembly. AV and I took a whack at it, literally, Sunday morning when the R’s left to see Mary Poppins. It was definitely a little rickety, and when all was said and done we did not use all the screws or poles, but we also didn’t have to use a high heel as a hammer. It’s also still standing, which has to count for something.

It’s a work night, so it’s time for bed. I talked to my brother earlier who was studying for finals, and while I sympathize, I can’t feel that sorry for someone who gets a month off after a few days of exams.

“Go confidently in the direction of your dreams! Live the life you’ve imagined.”
-Thoreau

Sunday, December 2, 2007

23 Years Of KR



Yesterday was KR’s 23rd birthday. 23. We met when we were 14. Which was almost a decade ago. You start feeling old when you can talk about time in terms of decades.

Looking back on nearly a decade of memories, a few specific moments come foremost than others to my mind. KR’s family moved to the Texas town I grew up in right before we started high school. She was introduced to MK at church by our youth pastor, and it wasn’t soon before we crossed paths. She was trying out for the tennis team, and since all of my BFF4L’s were doing the same, we quickly became interested in the new girl.

I spent many a Friday afternoon watching KR and my other friends play tennis that year, because obviously my social life could not start until they were finished with their matches. We even had a name for ourselves, which was the Fabulous Friday Night Five, which was shortened to the Fab Five, for all practical purposes. We shared our first traumatic high school formal experience with each other- mine being an unfortunate 80’s number that involved silver sequins and tulle, hers being the fact that her mother made her wear panty hose with open-toed shoes.

A year after that, she moved to the Austin area. A few girls and I surprised her over our fall break by going down to see her in her new home for a few days. It was a Sunday morning, her family was in church, and her mother came outside to help us orchestrate our surprise. She handed over her car keys to four 15-year-olds, leaving us to elect a driver amongst ourselves, with the exception of MK. MK was not allowed in the driver’s seat, due to being the newest to driving and the most ambitious.

I will never forget the scene of the church ladies and gentlemen leaving the morning services, only to see a red car going 3mph (I was the driver-elect) coast through the parking lot, blaring some teeny-bopper song with girls hanging out the windows and sunroof. I don’t know who was more surprised- KR upon seeing us, or me upon realizing that no one had been hurt and Mrs. R’s car was still intact after my parking lot driving experience.

Junior year of college KR transferred to A&M, and we found ourselves in the same city once again. Senior year we lived in houses less than a block away from each other, and got to spend many a game-day Saturday. The May and June of 2006 will forever be chronicled away in our minds as “The Lost Months”, which we spent taking a summer course in finance and studying/going insane in the far recesses of the business school. After graduating college I called her often and we talked wistfully of New York and how great it would be and how much we both just wanted to give it a try.

When I think of KR, I recall the time we begged her sister to drive us to Spaghetti Warehouse in her parents’ convertible ‘Stang (only to arrive at the restaurant with hair tangled beyond recognition).

I look back at an unforgettably hot summer spent working with her in Austin, and calling her father when her parents were gone one weekend to ask for detailed instructions on using his propane grill for the first time so that we could make burgers. I think he assumed we would either blow up his house or give up all together. Thankfully, we did neither.

I remember KR bringing over a package of just-add-water angel food cake mix to my house in college, only to watch the cake balloon up in the oven and realize that she had, in fact, added too much water.

I have fond memories of spring break trips spent together in Destin, and in New York.

I will never see anything leopard print and not think of her.

So, to a dear friend on her 23rd birthday, I offer my thanks. Thanks to you, the friend who introduced me to such movies as “Shag”, “Beaches” and “Anchorman”, who has a gift for making anyone feel comfortable and welcome, lover of all things involving bread and cheese, my fellow Will-Ferrell-movie-quoter and whose friendship has meant so many different things to me throughout the years. I would not trade this experience with you and AV or our friendship for anything in the world.

Know that you are so loved by so many.

We’re living the dream, kid.

"There are people whom one loves immediately and forever. Even to know they are alive in the world with one is quite enough."
-Nancy Spain

"...My cup runneth over."
-Psalm 23:5b