funny bone

i'm awkward. not in a completely socially inept sort of way, but the kind where i trip and fall a lot. for that reason (and my almost complete lack of rhythym) i try to avoid the dance floor sober as much as possible. my awkwardness reached new heights last night. i was running into the bathroom (i drank a tall starbucks chai on the ride home) and crashed into my sink. it was a very fashionable fall - i was still in my work clothes. but beyond that it really wasn't pretty. i didn't injure myself majorly, but i swacked my elbow just about as hard as possible without cracking it into two. there's no bruise, but it hurts like a major biotch. add that to the fact that i spend all day, every day using my arm to navigate my computer (yup - its a very physically demanding career). i know i'm a whiner, but man, it hurts.

the thing

we all have "things" we don't really divulge to the public. "things" we consider private. we keep them to ourselves, or at least a very small contingency of friends. we try to make a conscious decision when to share them, who to share them with, and control the situation as much as we possibly can. with gossip and just general human nature there's only so much to control, but usually a person has some say in the matter.

that is unless your pregnant.

i should preface this by saying i'm not pregnant. not that anyone is surprised by this news, but i do live thousands away from my hometown. if not for facebook, i could probably show up with a 3 year old for my high school reunion next year and no one would bat an eye. regardless, when i say "friend" in this post, i really mean it.

i've suddenly reached the age where i large contingency of friends are having kids. from my experience in this matter, the chain of events for the baby announcement are pretty standard. the happy couple waits a few months to make sure everything's on track before they spread the news. there are plenty of signs of what's going on in the meantime, but it's all rumor. no one wants to be the jackass to ask the question. or be the first one to start the whispers. privacy is upheld, the public pretends they have no clue, we all go on ranting about the latest vh1 celeb-reality show. all is quiet on the homefront.

eventually the announcement is made, and that my friends, is where it turns into one giant free-for-all. for the rest of us non-vessels, our "things" carry limited publicity. we can control the message, unveil it in a press conference or via twitter - whatever suits you. but for the lucky few (many if you've been witness to the NYC epidemic this summer) who are anticipating visits from the stork, the body rebels. you're SOL.

before you can be comfortable with what's going on, the whole world knows what's up. they feel entitled to provide advice, pry into your personal life, and well - touch your stomach. the stomach thing is something i find both fascinating and awkward. i don't want to touch a friend's stomach in any capacity in daily life. i mean, i love my friends, but it's just not necessary. i find it odd that relative strangers suddenly reserve the right to touch what was months earlier a sacred, no-touch zone. no woman wants to have their stomach touched by anyone outside of their significant other. even if they do have abs of steel. i think it's a deep-seeded fear of it being the future home of a FUPA, but whatever the case, it's just not cool to touch the tummy.

it took me a while to realize, but "bad" or "good" stomach touches aside, everyone carries their "thing" with them through their adult life. that's just how it is. most "things" take an adjustment period - not unlike the first trimester of incubatory secrecy - it's just that for non-pregnant folks the incubation can last years or months. there comes a time to share with the people you love, but it needs to happen at a time where you feel safe and comfortable sharing with the world. the women with babies percolating inside them are forced to mentally prepare themselves to divulge their "thing" with the world. the rest of us should take a cue from them. i'm not talking about facebook status updates, but in an honest, non-shrink sort of way. i look at many of my "friends" status updates and worry...we're all good at saying what's "on our mind" NOW, but 140 characters of immediate public awareness doesn't really provide a great arena for reflection. nor does it really provide a great outlet for honesty with your non-virtual friends.

cha-cha-changes

oct is a big month for me as life changes go:

new job.
new apt.
new phone.

really, if you tally all of the major parts of my life here, those are some major life-defining items besides my friends. (with my old phone, i lost all numbers and purged any extraneous ones.) what's odd about ny is that really all i'd have to do is change the borough i live in to have an entirely different life. in psychology, there's an effect (sorry, the name is escaping me and i'm too lazy to google) where one's identity and friendships are completely defined by where they live.

in ny, it's like a long-distance relationship to interact with people who you don't work with/live in a different borough. i dated a guy in the bronx a few years ago when i lived in williamsburg. though we could take trains to get to each others' places, it was the time equivalent of commuting from madison to milwaukee every day.

i got to a point a few months ago where i felt like i was in a rut. nothing was wrong or terrible, i just felt like i needed some changes. i didn't anticipate all of these happening all within days of each other, but i really can't complain. with all these changes, i'm working on stepping it up in the blog writing dept. i've been a total slacker lately - that needs to change.

over the hill

today i was asked what i hoped my life was like in 10 years. i remember getting that question in college and being able to babble on about my career, my house, my serious live-in boyfriend (marriage has never been high on my list of priorities). when you're 18, your mid-twenties seem like some distant enchanted land.

you'll have money to buy whatever you want! you can drink whenever - without ever getting carded! friends will have lavish wine parties where you'll talk politics and eat tiny hors devours with toothpicks!

some of these things are true, but drinking loses its glamour once you don't get carded trying to get a miller after work. sure gadgets are within reach, but disposable income is not as plentiful as one would think after bills and food. wine parties are fun, and there are toothpicks and little sandwiches, but the political talk always seems doused in $5 trader joes (or in most cases something in the $15 variety) and the next morning the only lasting effects are a hazy headache and gut rot.

don't get me wrong, i don't think i honestly could have imagined a better life if i would have tried. i'm happy, (relatively) healthy, and i have a great group of friends. i have a career i love, and i managed to move halfway across the country and find a new home. but in my mind there is no reason to answer the 10 year question. a year or two ahead, maybe more, but i have a hard time identifying with my peers who have a set plan for their lives down to what the next year will entail. i'm all about goals, but i just can't be that planful.

maybe that's why i need to live in ny. i'm surrounded by millions of people - many of which who are in a stage of arrested development. most of us are career focused and work very hard to achieve a level of success. there are plenty of examples of organized folks whose paths i can emulate when i am ready to be more organized, but this place allows me to be the norm rather than the exception for having no idea what the next year will have in store for me. sure i have goals, but i can take a few detours and never feel like i'm on the wrong path.

ma'am, can you repeat that?

this morning i woke up to screaming. actually, i think it was yelling. whatever it was, it was damn loud and really scary. some dude was banging on my neighbors door, calling them a f&$*^# b^%&# and telling them to quit banging on his ceiling. my guess is that he's the same douche that cranks shitty 80s music at 7am every weekend, but i have no actual proof.

all of the other 5 apts in my section of the building have kids living there. this means that he was probably screaming a)in front of his kids (or loud enough for them to hear); and b)at an apt that had 2-3 small children inside.

as a 115lb white girl, i don't have a ton of pull in a situation like this, so i thought it best to leave it to the authorities. the police here are pretty shoddy in their response, so i opted to call our on-site management company. at the very least i figured they'd send over one of the hulking dudes that has let me in when i've forgotten my keys. they all look like former linemen - the least they could do is tell some enraged idiot to shove it.

so i call the "emergency" number we have for weekends:

"please state your name and apt #"
(i provide it)

"i'm not calling because of maintenance. some neighbor is calling another a 'f$&*^#$ b&$*$' and banging on their door. it's scary."
"ma'am, can you please repeat your phone number?
(i provide it, AGAIN)

"ma'am, am i correct to understand that this man is cursing?"
"yes, he's banging and yelling FUCKING BITCH"
"oh, alright ma'am. so he's cursing."
"yup. and banging. it's woken up the entire building and i assume everyone is as scared to come out of their apt as i am"
"ok ma'am. can you hold please?"
"yes, but can you just send someone over here?"
"hold please."
(i wait for 3-5 min)

"ma'am, i think it's best for you to just call the police.

thanks sir. like i didn't think of that before. hopefully i won't be knifed in my sleep in the next 30 days before i can move out.

pancakes and fish hooks

there are days in ny that are indisputable reminders that this is where i'm meant to be (at this stage in my life). trying to plan these days are like trying to plan new year's. high expectations and hype that lead to utter disappointment - and usually a terrible hangover. today was a spectacular day, completely without a plan. it was a string of random events - mostly mundane and obscure - but collectively they made me so happy that i live in a place where these days can happen on a fairly regular basis without it being strange. i'll try to explain it as best i can but on paper (screen), though i can guarantee it will seem ridiculous and boring.

the day started with banana pancakes. it should be stated that i really don't like pancakes in general, but banana ones are pretty awesome. bananas are the only fruit i'll tolerate in anything beyond pie. meg was cooking - which is important to this story only in that i completely forgot she moved this week. here i am goofing around at my apt cleaning up and doing random chores for a few hours, when i really should have been moving my ass to harlem. luckily i realized this just as i left my building, but nonetheless going to brunch in the wrong borough is usually not the makings of a great day.

despite any geographical snafus, the weather was amazing and i really didn't care about the extra trek. plus there were fresh blueberries waiting for me when i got there, making up for my lack of planning. after pancakes the decision was made to go to central park. in the 3 years i've lived here i can count the number of times i've been to the park on one hand. one was a borderline-scary first date where i feared i would be chopped up into little bits, scattered on the great lawn. this has since left me a wee bit fearful of the park in general. today though, i saw the place with fresh eyes. maybe it was because we entered at the northern-most point. maybe it was because it was daylight and i had no suspicions that i may end up as the season opener of 48-hours. whatever the reason i was damn happy to be there.

when we got to the park, we saw a sign for canoeing. not just canoeing, but FREE canoeing. we jumped in line next to a bunch of little kids, soon finding ourselves in the middle of the pond in the nexus of the park. surrounded by greenery and gorgeous architecture, we barely noticed the surplus of algae building up on the corners of our boat. i've left out the racial profiling the park rangers did on us: assuming we had canoed before because we were white. but that's a minute complaint compared to the tiny turtle that hung out next to the boat and the little kid who stopped to tell us about the GIANT snapping turtle that he caught with his lure. (he was probably 5 with a lisp and an insanely loud voice. one of those boys who is great to talk to for a few minutes, but you'd want to strangle if you had to babysit.)

thankfully we made our way back to the mainland without maiming any turtles (or children) and headed to the bathroom. post-loo, we ran into some little kids fishing. we come to find out that fishing is FREE too. turns out the park will give you lures and corn (?) as bait for an afternoon of "catch and release" fishing. early-on, we realized the allure of fishing (HAHA - get it?) was not so grand. neither of us wanted to touch any fish we caught, and the danger of a turtle attacking our lures just added to our stress. those suckers are MEAN. so here we are camped out on the steps of the pond, two 25 year-olds too afraid to even fathom having to grasp a slimy, googly-eyed fish. BLAH. the object of the game then became to avoid catching ANYTHING. for the fish that wasn't too hard. counter to the "expert" advice of the parks department, fish don't actually like corn. you could hit the fish over the head with a kernel and they wouldn't bite. (i tried a few times.) the turtles though, those suckers have corn on the brain. the second meg put her lure in the water, a giant turtle surfaced and tried to attack her bait. after a good 15 minutes of anti-fish fishing, we thought it best to leave it to the 7 year olds and their parents. we weren't fooling anyone that we were being hipster "ironic" by taking up elderly activities. we turned in our lures and headed to the santeria shop.

my interest in the practice mainly lies in the sublime song. the song was the ringtone on my first cell and will always hold a special place in my heart, somewhere between "the general" by dispatch and "crazy game of poker" by O.A.R. these songs symbolize my first taste of independence, doused in smirnoff and natty light. in terms of a spiritual following though, i'm a total gringa and don't know the slightest thing about santeria. but why not? with no church and no true spiritual beliefs, the least i can do is check out what else is out there. plus candles and nice smelling things are always a plus. so we moseyed on down to the santeria store in spa-ha (ahem - spanish harlem) from the park. on the way, we passed a lively street fair that turned out to be a giant ruse to get people HIV tested.

the folks at the fair were so nice that we couldn't say no to the test. fishing, santeria, pancakes - why not round out the day with a sexual health exam? all it involved was a cheek swab and a list of somewhat vague questions, "have you been to the doctor in the past 2 years? if so, how many times?" we both had been tested before - i think doctors dole those out with almost the same frequency as pregnancy tests for the common cold at the university health center - so it was more of a courtesy to the nice folks running the place rather than any sort of fact-finding mission.

after our mobile health test, we moved on to the santeria store. once inside, we learned about natural african sponges and bath incense meant for "money growth". these things will probably serve me well somewhere down the line, but true hunger took the place of spiritual hunger, and we made a beeline for a nearby mexican restaurant. post tacos, we parted ways, and i headed to 500 days of summer (a movie). i won't ruin it for any other fans of the indie faux-love story, but all i have to say is that there's no way better way to round out a solid afternoon with a solid movie with a killer soundtrack.

so here i am sitting in my apt, a little burnt, a little sweaty, but more than a little content. i know i'm in danger of a breach of confidentiality with this statement, but the only thing negative about my day was my HIV test.

13 going on...

on my walk home this evening, i made the comment to one of my friends that her 13 year-old self and her 30 year-old self sound exactly the same. it got me to thinking...what was my 13 year-old self like?

and have i really changed all that much? 13 year-old jeni was tall and gangly, not unlike my physique now though i think when you're gangly as an adult you become pathetic and awkward. but lets do a quick assessment of where i was when i was 13, compared to now:


13 year old
- watched TV like it's my job
- daily uniform: t-shirt, jeans, converse
- lots of friends who are boys, no boyfriend
- covertly listened to top-40 pop music and read angsty pre-teen novels
- fought with my sister over the remote every night

25 year old
- watching tv is part of my job
- daily uniform (outside of work): t-shirt, jeans, converse, and messenger bag
- single
- thanks to facebook, not so covertly listen to top-40 pop music. still unwilling to buy the twilight series on my own - in the process of mooching copies off of friends
- still fight with my sister over the remote every night - now the fight includes wrestling over DVRed shows

hmm...maybe i should give myself a few years on here before i start judging myself.

a thousand words

i just found my camera. its been missing since december. i searched high and low for that damn thing. where was it? in my brown "adult" purse that i never use. it was the strangest thing. i was sitting on my bed, on the phone, and just started staring at that thing. i KNEW my camera was in there. how i didn't figure that out a few months ago is pathetically beyond me. i am an idiot. absolutely ecstatic that i found it but seriously WTF. this is how gaping holes of college and my youth have emerged. let's hope that i improve on this, otherwise my children will think i'm negligent.

be on the lookout for choice pics from my thanksgiving trip. yup it's been THAT long. pathetic.

sumo surfing

today there was a 350 lb man sitting outside my apt building. his weight wasn't of note, except for the fact that he had the tiniest laptop i have ever seen in my life. it was like the scene in zoolander where derek has the tiny phone, "god, is that you?"queens is one of those places where nothing fits quite right.

amer-i-can

i have returned from a trip to the motherland. i can no longer call it "home"; the word is now reserved for my east coast post-college life. i spent the last week in chicago/madison/milwaukee/wausau visiting relatives, being force-fed endless amounts of food, and sleeping.

a few highlights from the trip:

- 99.1's "top 99 from the 90's". a chicago radio station with what seems to be the strongest signal known to the fm airwaves decided to celebrate the 4th with a listener-ranked top hits from the last decade. i don't know how i feel about "mmmm bop" beating out the likes of "motown philly" and any song from the gin blossoms for #1 but it was still a solid road mix. plus if you missed out on any part of the countdown, 99.1 repeated the countdown ALL weekend. sort of takes the sting away from meg forgetting her iPod before even leaving NY.

- sultans. if you've ever gotten a falafel in chicago, this is where it should be from. if you haven't, your life is just that much worse. andrew promised us we'd "eat like princes" on our journey there and we did. twice. it doesn't hurt that the dirty hippies serving the food are so attractive that they make you forget that they are serving food in clothes that probably haven't been washed in weeks.

- ping pong. our friday night was planned to be spent by a night out on the town. one ping pong-challenge later, we ended up spending our evening in a round-robin tournament for the king (or queen) of the basement. think of your favorite nights in hs, sneaking beers and goofing off in your friends' basement while her parents are at the opera. luckily this time, no one had to flee from the house with an armful of empties and a half-consumed bottle of malibu.

- american flag apparel. milwaukee had a lot of it, and we found it. the best by far was the girl in the flag tube top. her chest was too large to keep all of the stars in full view.

- karaoke: not the kind where someone stands up by themselves like a drunken fool mumbling through a song solo. this is the dance circle, full-on belting out sing-a-long. choice favorites included "mr. jones" and "king of wishful thinking" (such a forgotten goodie).

- jello salad. ingredients are pineapple, cottage cheese, cool whip, and jello flavoring. it's whipped straight from heaven - especially for the under 12 crowd, or any of my friends from college.

- scooters. ordinarily i would give a snide, 'boys and their toys,' but i want one. definitely an upgrade from my schwinn cruiser.

i love my friends.