awesomest photo of the season (so far)

So Awesome.

So awesome, in fact, that I couldn’t decide whether this should go under "Art and Photography," "Food and Restaurants" or "Parties and Nightlife."

It’s aptly titled: Peep Show

Happy Pending Easter, everyone!

a severe dearth of news

Let’s be honest: my blog is almost never about anything important. (And I’m totally ok with that.) However, I am suffering from such an enormous dearth of anything to say, I almost feel like posting at all is cheating. It’s luring you in here to read semi-organized ramblings from the inner reaches of my brain.

That said, fasten your seatbelts, because I’ve got a lot more stuff to add.

First, I am eternally grateful to St. Christopher (he’s the patron saint of travelers, right?) for protecting me from Ye Olde Dreaded Subway Barf last night on St. Patrick’s Day. I thought if it happened, maybe it would give me something interesting to write about, but really it was too gross to wish upon anyone, let alone a barf-o-phobe like me.

Second, in the barf theme, I was walking to the library over lunch today and I saw what could only have been called a Dessert Dissaster. Someone had dropped a plate of cookies on the ground. And not just those shitty taste-like-wallpaper-paste-with-some-sugar-thrown-in cookies that you get at the grocery store (you know the ones -- inevitably one of them’s green and sixteen of them have sprinkles). These were really good looking cookies. Which, of course, made me think that someone sabotaged the delivery guy and forced him to toss his cookies!

(This would have been so much better with the pictures, because there were three separate piles of cookies, but by the time I got back from the library, they had already been cleaned up. Sigh.)

Third, I had a dating realization recently. I’ve done all this soul-searching and deep, intense pondering -- you know, to become a better person and just generally rock the house -- and recently, I met a guy I really liked. You’d think that with all the work I’ve been doing, I would be fearless, courageous, and think nothing but positive thoughts.

Um, no.

Instantaneously, the old I’m-not-good-enough thoughts kicked in (see this post... context will now make it slightly more understandable). But the key thing was that I handled them completely differently.

And that’s my parting wisdom for you. Growing up doesn’t mean you don’t have the same kinds of thoughts; it just means you don’t act on them the same way.

Not news, exactly, but it’ll have to pass for it today.

i just want to bang on the drum all day

I DON’T want to work today.

Could it be because I am 440 pages into a 561 page teen fiction novel about a girl in love with both a vampire and his sworn enemy, a werewolf? (yes.)

Could it be because my body was asleep but my mind was up all night last night? (yes. Around 4:17 (approximately) I decided that I couldn’t sleep because I hadn’t brushed my teeth or washed my face (ick) so I did those. And promptly stayed awake for another hour.)

Could it be because I got the first taste of spring this weekend and want it to come back? (yes. oh yes oh yes oh yes.)

Could it be because I don’t actually have anything due today? (yes.)

Could it be because it’s St. Patrick’s Day? (no, probably not.)

how working the helpdesk is like dating

I had a dream the other night that I had written a brilliant post about how dating is like working the helpdesk.

I think, however, that the post turned out differently in my dream...

How Working The Helpdesk Is Like Dating
by Kate

1. Only helpless losers call the helpdesk.(No, wait, that's not what I wanted to say.)

2. Working the helpdesk requires strong communication skills. It also involves a lot of yelling, hair pulling and foul language.

3. At the helpdesk you are constantly in touch with a bunch of high-strung, angry weirdos.(Um... what?)

4. If a caller has a problem using the software that the helpdesk can't address, the caller gets sent to the trainer for "reinstruction."

5. There is no extra monetary compensation for especially irritating calls to the helpdesk.

6. The ones you wish would call, don't.

7. Conversations at the helpdesk are often one-sided and negative. ("My computer is broken. It's not meeting my needs.")

8. Even if a call to the helpdesk is boring or annoying, you're not allowed to shoot anyone (including yourself) or fall asleep, no matter how much you'd like to. You are, however, allowed to fake having another important call come in.

9. Callers may stay on the line with the helpdesk for hours and hours and never send flowers.

10. Co-workers are constantly calling the helpdesk asking for dating advice. (Oh, no, wait, that's the other way 'round.)

i quit.

So you know how you can't do everything right? (And of course, feel free to define "right" for yourself.) Well, I'm having one of those days where it feels like I can't do ANYTHING right.
And I don't mean the big things in my life, like my job or my friendships or the really important emotional stuff (all of which I think I do fine, or at least well enough). Today I'm being trammeled by the little stuff.

Like drinking water. I don't drink enough water. Everyone I know drinks more water than I do, and half of them buy it bottled (which is a waste of money and bad for the environment, what with all that recycling) and the other half drink it from the tap. Which is now a dangerous proposition, apparently, since they've found all sorts of crap in our drinking water. (Like heart medication, menopause hormones, sedatives and caffeine!) So what's a girl to do? Fling away her dollars and ratchet up her carbon footprint? Or not worry about the festive chemicals her body is absorbing?

Or sugar. I try. I try very hard not to eat sugar. And then I try not to eat artificial sweetener, either. And then my sweet tooth jumps out of my mouth, punches me in the face and starts making demands. So I give in. Either to sugar or to artificial stuff. Neither of which is very good for me. And so I feel I'm losing again.

And what about working out? Do I do it enough? I've always focused on working out as weight maintenance and emotional stabilization. Now I'm starting to wonder if I should be paying more attention to my joints and posture and all that other stuff. And my sneakers? Are they supportive enough?

I guess it all boils down to this: Am I taking good enough care of my body? At the moment, I'm pretty sure the answer is No.

And just to add insult to injury... according to the Vatican there are some new sins. Lucky for me, I'm not in much danger of committing them, as I prefer my sins the good old-fashioned way.

a show I think EVERYONE should see (except for really old people)

So if I haven't already let it slip, I used to be an actor. (Yeah, yeah, most of you already know this. There are some new folks here, so be patient.)

That, of course, means I have an extra-special relationship to theatre (kind of like an ex-boyfriend). As such, I've been friendly towards it, but have generally avoided making contact with it for the last six months to a year.

All of that changed on Thursday. I saw the most amazing show I've seen in YEARS, which has reheartened me, and reminded me that while there is a great deal of shit theatre in New York City, there are also some gems that shouldn't be missed for all the tea in China.

Passing Strange is one of them.

This rock musical is written and performed by Stew, a wildly smart, lyrically witty guy who, through the course of the show, tells us about how he searched for years to find something that's "real." First he looked to the church, then he looked to Amsterdam and finally to Berlin to really find himself and a feeling that was real.I don't want to spoil the show, but there are some really REALLY amazing lyrics in it, two of which I can remember are:

"why you want to leave, just when it was starting to feel real?" and
"how does it feel to be seen and be seen through?"

If you're an artist and have struggled with your art, with why you make it, with what's important to you, with love, with relationships, with family, with yourself... this show will speak to you.

I wholeheartedly recommend it. (And I am usually really stingy on the praise.)

Oh, and the reason I don't think really old people should see it? It's kind of loud. (I also sat in free seats right next to the speaker, which may or may not have had something to do with that.) So if you don't like loud rock music, you might want to skip it, but otherwise get thee to the Belasco!

how to alienate the construction workers in your office (a useful guide)

Let's pretend you're me for a minute. And you've printed out some handouts for your class on the color printer, which is on the other side of the office, near where they're doing one part of the construction. (the other part is right by your office. paint fumes = fun!)

On the way to the copier, you check out the progress of the other construction (by the copier), notice that they've rehung the ceiling and are likely going to start painting there soon, too. You smile at the construction guys, say a friendly "hey" and then you notice that one of them is looking at you a little too lech-like for your comfort.

Now, don't forget, you're a cute girl, so you've seen some semi-lechs in your life. You decide it's no big deal, but figure you won't be going that route to the copier anymore.

You get back to your office and it's time for breakfast! Which you have to microwave... on the other side of the office. Now, there are two routes to the kitchen, one past the constrcution, and one past reception. So you tell Fernando (your awesome officemate) that you're going past reception so you don't have to see the lechy construction guy you saw before.

He laughs, you laugh, you pick up your cream of wheat and head out to reception... passing right by Mr. Lech, who is now working on the other construction site, the one right outside your office.

Awesome.

You stick your foot in your mouth (instead of your tasty cream of wheat) because you're about 85% sure Mr. Lech heard you call him Mr. Lech.

Then you go and write about it for a bunch of other people to read.

The end.