Home Again

I survived Christmas with my family. I delivered Christmas presents. I socialized with my cousins. I reaped the benefits of finding cool presents for the children in my extended family on my travels. I exchanged the fussy sweater I received for a cooler one that pleased my mother. I took my mom for a walk and I did excercises with my parents.

Thank god its over.

Twas the night before the night before

The first day home for Christmas went off fine. I bought a Christmas tree with my Dad, installed virus software on his computer for him (talk about the blind leading the blind!) ate indian food, nachos, triple cream, cashews, egg nog, wine, home made caesar salad, and quiche. I am off to a swimming start in the healthy eating department.

Updated to add: I'm no sure what's up with this spacing, I'm doing this on my Dad's laptop. Take it as a sign of the wide amount of figurative space surrounding neworquina as she enters day two in close quarters with her parents.

Fucking Cabdrivers

I suffered my first casualty of the transit strike this evening. Leaving the office, I was rushing to get out of the office to the dry cleaners before it closed, so I could have these particular pants that I wear so often when I go out of town tomorrow, and I made the great error of hailing a yellow cab. When I noted that he wasn't going to use the meter, he immediately bridled and asked me if I had a problem with that. (There is some sort of system of zones in place during the strike, which was a terrible plan because it led to mad scams because everyone had a different idea about where the zones were.) I guess this man had had one too many negotiations gone bad because he threatened to stop and let me out of the car and when I persisted in asking how many zones my destination was, he got more and more pissed. He actually said, "Well I was going to charge you ten dollars [one zone according to NY1] but now I don't know... I was done for the evening and going home to eat my dinner, but I stopped for you and know there is all this business about zones." Then I lost my temper in a big way and ended up totally yelling back at him about how he raised his voice to me first, no one made him stop for me, and its perfectly reasonable to want to know how much the ride is going to be. Then I announced he wasn't getting a fare from me and jumped out of the cab. Truly, I think I won this particular run-in with a cranky New Yorker, because I got eight blocks closer to my destination and I made it to the dry cleaner on time.

I supposed its payback for the guy who charged me for $ 5 toll coming from Kennedy and going to the Lower East Side when there is certainly no toll if you take the Manhattan Bridge.

More about sex in the city

So last week I had holiday blues and was cranky and melancholy and wanted to whole thing to be over. I went and saw Brokeback Mountain and Breakfast on Pluto, both of which are very sad movies. Neither one made me shed a tear.

Maybe its the transit strike and the fact that I am prevented from entering into the holiday fray, or maybe its the fact that I did a decent amount of physical activity over the weekend, but this week, the holiday gloom has lifted and I have founded myself to be moderately chipper . I'm facing the holidays with bemused resignation instead of dread.

All that notwithstanding, last night found me at home weeping, (weeping!) while watching Sex and the City reruns. It was the one where Aidan and Carrie break up, for the final time. Maybe it bore a passing resemblance to my last break up (now almost a year ago) or maybe they just made the process of walking out of the apartment of someone you love appear very real and believable. In any case, there I was on the couch, with spiked apple cider, wiping the hot tears from my face, and thanking god that no one was actually sitting there next to me to see my foolishness.

Stuck

Still no progress on the transit front it looks like. Plans, haircuts, last minute Christmas shopping will all have to happen after the holiday. Still have to figure out how to get to the airport on Friday.

No one here but me

Everyone else got to work from home because of the transit strike, but I hate to work at home, and can walk to work, so here I am. It's just me in the office. Just me and a carrot cake, homemade chocolate cookies, and some sort of homemade toffee candy. It's a dangerous proposition all around. I did partake, but had a salad, steamed broccoli and whole wheat pita bread for lunch, so I should have some leeway, I guess. I also went to dance classes or events, three days in a row over the weekend, wait, it was four if you count the party I was at on Friday, so that counts for something as well.

When its just you in the office you can blast Doris Day really loud without making anyone angry. Except yourself. That Doris. She troubles me.

New York Minute

I'm up watching NY1 and waiting to see if there is going to be a transit strike. Really, it's fascinating. It's not looking good for news anytime soon. I'm in the enviable position of only having one airport trip to worry about and that is not until Friday.

Another one bites the dust

Emily came over to the dark side a few weeks back with I'm So Pretty I'm not jealous at all that she has way more readers than I do. It doesn't bother me the tiniest little bit that there are at least 2 comments under every post, including one from Andrew Lloyd Weber Raschke who was my friend first!

These slights notwithstanding I usher I'm So Pretty into the blogroll.

Cupfuls of Christmas Cheer

I wrapped Christmas presents last night, but had Sex in the City reruns on in the background and not Christmas music. And that was reasonably distracting. As long as I don't break out the Everything But the Girl Acoustic album then everything is OK.

Procrastinating

Let's see, did anyone email my yahoo account?

No. Well, OK .

It's the most wonderful time of the year

Along with the clouds and cold, the Christmas sadness came to town yesterday. I fear its here to stay for the duration. Even when I'm eager and excited about some festivity, it's always waiting to flood back into the empty spaces that open up, like the cold air when you open window of a warm room. I have a memory of two years ago, of me trucking to the subway with a big piece of luggage and a bag full of presents on my way to the airport. I remember the afternoon, but don't remember exactly how I felt, except that I got into an argument with a man on the bus about a seat. My boyfriend at the time was with me, and later in the year he recalled the afternoon to me, commenting unfavorably on my posture and my demeanor under the press of the holiday. He really couldn't understand what beat me down so. What can I do, though, if a general sense of angst and sadness sweeps down along with all of the holiday madness?

I know of course that I have less than nothing to be sad about. But there it is. It's sad all the same, and it manifests itself in little thoughts such as: What am I going to do about my future career plans? If I am so eager to leave my job, why haven't I figured out the next step? Why am I not in a relationship? Why is my default condition so solitary? Not an original set of complaints, I admit. And I don't think really that its about complaints, or anything in particular that is wrong about my life. I think its the setting and the visual and olfactory reminders. Christmas lights twinkle and cue sadness, and then my intellect casts around for the reasons for how I feel.

Movie Madness

I tried to go see Brokeback Mountain last night. To no avail of course, because everyone in New York got there several hours before me. I went and saw Breakfast on Pluto instead, which Cillian Murphey made almost as good. And probably somewhat less hearbreaking.

Maybe I will try to go tonight. Not that it's not going to play for the next four months.

RIP

It is very sad news that Richard Pryor has passed away. He figured largely in my childhood. I went to see his screwball comedies with Gene Wilder and vividly remember watching the trailer for "Jo Jo Dancer Your Life Is Calling" in the movie theatre. There was also a brief Saturday morning television program for children called Pryor's Place, which I was just a little too old to enjoy. These are, of course, the more minor accomplishments. As an adult, I have come to know his standup for what it is: unprecedented, uniquely funny and merciless social commentary.

Rat on a wheel

I have only been back from my vacation for four days, and already I am back to my rat on a wheel mode. It's all self imposed of course, but still somewhat jarring. There's work and english class and then a long list of self-improvement activities and phone calls to return.

But I blogged today! So there.

The Prodigal Blogger

(Blowing off the dust)

Oh sad, neglected blog. Lonely, forlorn, bedraggled blog. I am a terrible, terrible blogger and I don't deserve you. Please let me come back. I'll never leave you for so long again. I promise. At least not without a very good reason, like being kidnapped or enlisting or something really, really unlikely.

In my absence, I have yet another new fellow blogger in my circle of friends. Having friends who are bloggers is a good thing because they, um, actually write in their blogs and and therefore more likely to drop in on yours.

Check out Blog for God by Andrew Lloyd Weber. Not really Andrew Lloyd Weber of course. Just someone pretending to be him. Actually pretending that his dog, Andrew, is him. Or that he is his dog. I'm fuzzy on the details, but he is funny.

YEEHAW!

There's something big a brewin' down in the District of Columbia. Maybe indictments.


Rock on!

It's been dreadful long...

...Since I posted much of anything nice. Real work, volunteer work, my cell phone dying, and my computer crashing, and various "career development exercises" have led me to be one very stressed out and time-preoccupied newyorquina.

Also, I found out that my cat is morbidly obese and was forced to put him on a strict (and expensive) diet.

Fortunately in the meantime, my friends have picked up the slack with two new fabulous blogs that will now join the illustrious roll of anyone I have ever met with a blog.

They are both written by dear friends of mine, who... don't... in fact, say their names, so I will leave it at this. They are wonderful, funny women who know more about posting pretty things on the web that I do.

1) jillypickle has achieved more visual texture in her one month blogging that I will ever have. So far this blog deals in great detail with both household crafts and French intellectuals.

2) I'm Sorry I Had to Kill That Guy will soon become known as a repository of avant garde music, critically acclaimed hockey commentary, and fabulous and unattainable shoes.

What is going to break?

My Horoscope for today:

"Several astrological influences will conspire to cause something you're quite fond of, be it electrical, mechanical or electronic, to decide against doing its very best for you. Your first impulse will be to go after any machine that doesn't perform with a hammer, since what you'll want first is vengeance. But if you don't make it worse, you'll find someone who can actually repair the offending item. Anyone who tangles with you in the meantime, though -- well, at least give them a running start."

The stars obviously know me very well. What is going to not work in my apartment. The TV? The new stove? Shudder to think, the cable box?

How Convenient

The Mayor Bloomberg, the head of police, and a guy from the FBI is giving a press conference about a credible threat on the NY subway. I'm really not much of a conspiracy theorist, but really, come on now. Isn't it convenient that this is happening that week that rumors of indictment are starting to fly madly about the President and Vice Presidents' chief advisors being indicted? We really are sheeplike, us humans.

In his speech in answer to a question that I couldn't hear, Mayor Bloomberg did say that the threat came from, "outside of the country." Jingoism, anyone?

Another wierd thing and the story doesn't show it any more when you clink on the yahoo news story link above, but at about 5:58 pm, the same story included a line that said something along the lines of, "A representative of the FBI in Washington said there was no evidence of any threat on the New York subway." My italics.

I hope there isn't a terrorist attack in my beloved city, don't get me wrong. But after x number of national orange alerts before the election and 0 after the election, I am a tiny bit jaded. The conservative right has used 9/11 to such a degree, that aside from the loss of life and trauma to the city, the other real casualty would be, well, the world. Think how much more damage the U.S could inflict with the United States united behind some other disastrous war.

Keeping Our Mouths Shut

Ed Kilgore on Harriet Miers:

"So: given the trend, I would expect most conservative shrieking about Miers to die down tomorrow, but as Dobson's fire-extinguisher statement indicated, there will be a big price to pay during the confirmation hearings: conservatives will demand some serious reassurance about her "judicial philosophy." And those "reassurances" will provide serious ammunition to Democrats, who have generally and wisely kept their mouths pretty much shut today, other than vaguely positive statements about Miers' apparent lack of ideological commitment, and general injunctions for more information and robust confirmation hearings."

More on why A.N.S.W.E.R. usually sucks but today rocks

Via Juan Cole, the Next Hurrah responds to liberal folks who are complaining about the lack of focus in protest programming.

"Think street protests are in and of themselves counterproductive even if there's no reference to Palestine or Haiti and the only speakers are grandmothers and war veterans and ex-generals? OK. But that doesn't let you off the hook."

Fascista

My plane ticket home for my father's birthday did work out, miraculously the ticket was still open and for a fee they were able to change it to this weekend. The whole e-ticket thing leaves too much room for error for cocky people like me who place too much stock in their organizational capacity.

Everyone has left the office for the day, and I put in a extra hour in at work, so I think I can spare a few minutes to blog. This weekend I went to the March on Washington against the war. I was impressed by the numbers, the focus of the programming, and the subdued yet determined tone of the participants. I think that United for Peace with Justice is maturing into a very effective organization, with the capacity to summon large numbers of people across class and cultural lines, and provide them with substantive information and commentary. From back in late 2002 and early 2003, when I did a few hours of volunteering with them, they have really developed their capacity to pull off a dramatic and large scale event with no apparent problems. International ANSWER, of which I am not as fond , co-sponsored the event, so they obviously deserve considerable credit as well. For more on the ANSWER and UFPJ dynamics, and the protest in general, see this article at Salon. com.

For instance, the speeches at the post-march rally and concert, did an excellent job of showing how the current administrations tax cuts, underinvestment in public spending, foreign policy and the disaster on the Gulf Coast are all linked together. [UFPJ also has a page of alternative funds for Hurricane Relief, for those of us who would like to support ensure our donation goes to do more than line the coffers of the Red Cross.]

Along with the 100,000 + anti-war protestors, there were a couple pockets of counter protestors, reported to be numbering 300, who of course have gotten roughly equal attention in the mainstream media. I have to say that that was the most troubling moment of the day for me. There was a big segment of them lining the front of the F.B.I. and I'm still chewing on my responses to some of their signs. One sign that I saw frequently said "Freedom isn't Free." Another one showed a sweet-faced, young G.I. and said, "If you want Peace, let them do our job." This idea bothers me so much, that the peace movement is somehow blocking the progression of freedom. How narrow must someone's view of the world be for someone to take the position that this war is a necessary evil in order to bring about peace and justice?

In another counter protest of sorts, which the NY Times covered today, Tom Wolfe, said this about his colleague, E.L. Doctorow, who declined to join Laura Bush for a breakfast and a dinner in conjunction with her National Book Festival, which was happening on the Mall at the same time:

"Ed Doctorow is a great guy, a wonderful writer, great company - he's just being fashionable, that's all," Mr. Wolfe said in a brief conversation at the Library of Congress dinner on Friday night. "In this country, there's nothing daring about going against the government."

What is wrong with people? Because our lives aren't put in danger by protesting the government, we are fashionable when we exercise our 1st amendment rights? I can't believe I ever read Bonfire of the Vanities, even in the 8th grade.

All in all, I found it one of the more gratifying protests I have been in. I was energized and happy to see that after two years of being ignored and maligned, people are still willing to come out and contribute their time and presence. It made me less pessimistic about the generally apathetic state of the country. There are a bunch of folks in it for the long haul, and they are getting smarter and better organized everyday.

My favorite sign of the day: "Frodo Failed: George Bush has the ring!"

FUCK

My family doesn't know about my blog. So it won't matter if I reveal that I was planning to go to North Carolina for my Father's 70th birthday. His sisters are coming to town from all over the country, dinner reservations have been made. It's a big deal and as of right now, all a surprise to him. And it won't matter to reveal that I just discovered this morning that I do not have a plane ticket, which will be a not entirely pleasant surprise for my mother. The travel agent I used booked me on a flight for last weekend instead of the one coming up. I'm waiting for her to call me back. Fuck.

Which Amendment was that?

Yikes, Cindy Sheehan's protest Monday evening Union Square was shut down. I swear the NYPD has it in for the anti-war movement. If I had gotten myself organized to go, then I suppose I would have know about this earlier. I am definitely happy to be going to D.C. to raise a ruckus in opposition to the war this weekend.

sniffle

I have had the last day and a half what may be the worst episode on allergies in my entire life. Yesterday, my office mates made little trips down to my office to watch my convulsive and explosive sneezes. It's actually quite scary when you sneeze five times in a row without pause. Its unfortunate because it came during a week in which I needed to be super productive and am instead moving very very slowly. Today I am properly medicated, but very achy, and my nose it bright red and very tender.

Allergies suck.

More from our Houston correspondent

Emily sends updates. Sorry again that this is late. Emily is checking the blog, so you can post comments to her, or forward any messages to her via me.

Sat, 10 Sep 2005


"Hi everyone-- Things are going well here. Spirits have been lifted in the past couple of days (way better than our first night here--ugh). The improvement we think is due mainly to people getting debit cards from Red Cross (b/t $350-1250 or so I heard, depending on family size) and from FEMA (I think for $2000 but could be wrong on both counts--accuracy of information is questionable--different info about everything, esp. numbers.) Speaking of questionable information (oops), things to correct/clarify from the previous email:

1. 250,000 ppl have been processed in Houston--not necessarily all still in Houston.
2. Reliant Park (the complex that holds the astrodome, Reliant Arena, Reliant Center, and giant Reliant Stadium) was in fact on lock down b/c Red Cross was distributing above mentioned debit cards--not some security breach we thought/were told? it could have been.
3. Turns out about 97,000 folks have been processed through Reliant Park. I believe about 6,000+ remain (?) and many are moving out as they receive debit cards and are able to get some housing secured (apartments or otherwise). There are still about 1200 or so folks in the Convention Center.
4. Reliant Arena--the bldg. that was emptied of folks (except for some medical stations, including isolation) was making room and bringing in cots for more folks. before i give you misinformation about where those folks are coming from (New Orleans? elsewhere in the Reliant complex?) I'll just say that maybe we'll find out today and get back to you.

I know you guys can read about all of this stuff (probably not super accurate either, it's hard to get facts for sure), so I'll stick to non-news stuff, except for this little comment in this here "Emily's Political Corner:"
You have likely read that Dick Cheney (your fave and mine) is supposed to visit Texas (Austin, not Houston) today (Saturday). After reading about his tour of Mississippi and hearing that the response there was "impressive" I bristle to imagine what he says about Texas. I don't know what things are like at Austin's convention center--but they doubtless won't be as good as he says they are. I suppose it's not revelatory to say that the Dark Lord's li'l tour are purely politically motivated: look how great the response is/look how organized we are/look how excellent our administration is/nevermind Iraq and the lack of National Guard/talk to Chertoff about any accountability, not me!/vote Republican in 2008! People have been here a week and Cheney (not even Bush who took his sweet time to go elsewhere) shows up today...for two minutes. It just seems any concern is feigned. Disgusting. I mean Oprah and Chris Rock were in Texas days ago. I'm just saying.
[End sanctimony.]

It's not terrible here, organizationally-speaking but far from perfect and very very far from coordinated; response activities and orgs are operating fairly autonomously. The net result of this is that single things like medical response or law enforcement are pretty well underway with each single goal being met with success, but there's not much discussion between any of these groups and seemingly not much communication with the residents (evacuees) about what's happening next. So, things like handing out debit cards (which has been stopped), the times and locations of which was announced in the local paper, didn't trickle down to other people within the complex (so the paper's our only source of info too).

A lot of the interviewing is quick, people say they're fine, I get their age, check that there are "no problems" on my sheet and move on. During these stretches, it's easy to forget that the many of the people we are interviewing lost their homes and/or contact with their family members. Just a series of short exchanges that help you get data and remind them of medical and mental health services. Most have been to medical and I've come across more folks who have used mental health as well and others who are open to it, which is good. For some reason, the mental health counselors aren't allowed to walk around and talk to people which is truly unfortunate because some people sure are talking. Not conversational so much as thinking out loud, heads full of working out tons of logistics to get established, constantly running down plans to get their family members together. One woman was going to use a free Continental ticket (how awesome is that?) to get her son to Houston from Corpus Christi since she has a bag full of medication for him. Chances are, if he's in a shelter there, he has maybe been able to get his meds, but of course his mother's going to worry, right? I met another woman who was in her cot and hadn't had food or water since the day before (it was 7 pm at this point) and felt totally alone b/c her husband was out all day taking care of logistics, etc. She talked about losing her house and everything she owned. I went and got her some food (smoked sausage, green beans and bread that looked GOOD) and snuck it to her cot. She was so grateful and this look on her face was so hopeful and thankful and looked so different than it did before, all teary and hopeless and sad and yeah yeah none of this is about me, of course of course, but that second sure felt like it was and it was great. (I know his this must sound.)

My boss was working in the pediatrics clinic and met a guy working there who was evacuated and was totally alone. He apparently was sort of lost and the folks at the pediatrics clinic got to know him, found out he was handy and asked him to put in some plumbing and install a sink. He did. They also found out he was a substance abuse counselor in New Orleans and so he has been able to provide some counseling to some residents going through withdrawal and other issues. So, this fella works at the peds clinic everyday and goes home to the astrodome to sleep at night. In a couple of days, he is going to use a free airline ticket (shout out to Continental) to go to California, where two of the nurses there are from. The hospital where they work has promised him a job ("we’ll find one, we promise.") and one of the nurse's sisters has a room where he can stay. Amazing.
Not to be too rosy, because there are a million sad circumstances surrounding these rare good outcomes, but isn't incredible how people can look out for each other? It's very humbling to see how generous people can be. This: I met a volunteer who's from New Orleans, was evacuated and has no idea where he family is. She said she's helping out because it helps her to think that someone else could be doing the same for them.

Another resident said that when she went to get mental health counseling she ended up helping more than she was helped because she was okay and not as bad off as others and they need her help and she feels better helping them anyway.

In addition to the debit cards improving spirits, last night Reliant Park opened "Reliant Town Square" a makeshift entertainment/amusement area with tents (some with A/C) of NEW board games, free video games and pinball machines (including the Adams Family one which is AWESOME), basketball courts, moonbounce-esque big slides and other such things that I TOTALLY want a turn on, but given they're for evacuated children, well, it'd be slightly inappropriate. But they look like they're having a great time--yay! Nettie (a colleague) and I were giddy when we left that area b/c it was so exciting and fun and felt just like a summer fair. It seemed like a lot of the kids felt that way, too, which is awesome.

Lots more to tell but this is way too long as it is, so I'll update once more in a day or two. We leave tomorrow morning (instead of Monday) since thankfully there are less and less people to interview (84 first night, then 53, then 31). Love to you all, thanks for your nice emails and I'll be in touch soon. Kisses! emilyo"

The View from Houston

Guestblogging today is my fine friend Emily O. Smith who spent several days collecting data on Houston Survivors of Katrina. Apologies for posting these a bit late.

Thu, 8 Sep 2005

"I am in Houston working (at least part-time)at the Astrodome interviewing Katrina victims. I am with work. We got here yesterday and plan to stay until Monday morning--if they need us that long.

The Astrodome has been on lock-down today (my colleagues couldn't get in) due to security--I think some folks were trying to hand out debit cards or something, not sure what the deal is. I haven't been there yet today.

Right now, I'm at UT Houston doing work for my everyday job. Our shift doesn't start until the evening and though there are projects we can do During the day, my bosses want me to get some jobby-job stuff done first. may get to help out with the extra stuff tomorrow: interviewing older folks to see if they need to be moved to assisted living places, Interviewing folks for mental health issues. Blah blah anyway we did go to the astrodome last night. the good news is that volunteers are packing away cots as ppl find other places to go--a lot of church groups in Houston are organizing for members of their congregation To take people into their own homes. pretty incredible of people to do that--take in complete strangers. i don't know if i could do that, honestly.

Otherwise, we have been talking to the ones still behind--about 7500 at the astrodome's three facilities. i was the talking to the folks on the main floor of the astrodome itself--weird to imagine big sports events and concert there--so many cots and cops and germs everywhere. kids are running around and being kids, adults waiver between surly and grateful. one guy made me want to cry because he was mean (as if i should take it personally) and a few others made me want to cry because their stories were so sad--esp the older folks. i talked to an 80 year old woman, a 76 yr old man, a 72 yr old man, and a few others. Imagine these folks getting through floods and a hurricane! unbelievable. I am only supposed to ask people how old they are and if they are sick and if so how. Then I am to fill out my little checklist o'symptoms for what they feel and move on. mostly that's what I do, But sometimes they talk to you and you stay to listen.

Luckily the folks here (UT Houston folks who we're here to assist, not FEMA (my bad)) encourage us to listen for awhile before pointing out the counseling area, which is highly unused. I interviewed 84 people in the span of 2 and 1/2 hours, about four of whom were white or mixed, one latino, and every one else was african-american. Some were less than 1 year old and up to 80 as I mentioned. They're the hardest to talk to. I mean, it's easy b/c they talk and talk but hard because what they say is so sad. The hardest was the 76 year old who doesn't know where his wife is and is only with one of his sons--he doesn't know Where his other children are, either. He had a chance earlier this week to leave the astrodome (presumably on a church bus to go to someone's home) but didn't go b/c he didn't know where his son was at the minute and didn't feel right about taking off. He talked about other things too--knowing the levee broke b/c there's no way that stuff is rainwater and he didn't want to go and didn't think it'd be so bad but it just kept getting worse and worse and...--and so on. He was just so consumed by it all and was very shaky and had tons of medicine with him (luckily). Not everyone had their medicine when they evacuated. They got their prescriptions filled at the makeshift CVS pharmacy which is a trailer pulled into a warehouse area of the astrodome. Some of the medicine is generic (or not generic) and looks different than what they take and they don't want to take this new stuff because their old pills were white and red and this one's orange and MAYBE it's the right thing, but you never know... So there's more than a little distrust of the health system, which is both sad and unsuprising. (If I undertood him correctly, my 76 yr old friend seemed to have some doubts about the levees breaking and if it was an accident.)

Health-wise most folks were fine. A lot of people had blood pressure they needed meds for and got. Diabetes was mentioned a few times as well...and many other pre-existhing things that need attention. And lots of folks had been feeling bad but got antibiotics and whatnot from "medical" a station in the astrodome and were feeling better. they had so far found 2 cases of var-something virus (nice health knowledge, emily) which apparently is serious and super-infectious and there have been 6 cases of bloody diarrhea (lots of regular diarrhea though i only came across 5 or 6 folks who mentioned having a problem with it, and only one currently had it still). They set up isolation areas for the really serious cases to prevent spread of infection. a lot of folks have swollen feet from standing a ton in lines (e.g. the line to thebathroom which was crazy long when i saw it) and dehydration. no one really reported anxiety or depression (though there's a bit of a stigma to these things that make people unlikely to mention it). Not everyone showed signs these things but it's fair to say that many many folks have some post-traumatic stress.

But there are some people who have great senses of humor (wrong term) about the whole thing. One guy said it's a waste of time being pessimistic and he's being optimistic and he appreciates the volunteers who have come from everywhere and so appreciates Houston for opening its arms to everyone and plans to relocate to Houston. And he laughed as his 4 year old daughter explained to me that she feels okay but her Cookies were sick (and showed me a bag of animal crackers). Another woman laughed a lot and asked me for a can of coca-cola and that would make her feel better (she was actually feeling fine, of course, and actually got a soda from some volunteer right behind me).

There are volunteers of all kinds and sometimes we had to wait for one of us to finish before the other one of us could start. It's got to be pretty exhausting talking to volunteers all the live-long day, so I Try to be brief when people are groaning to see you approach. I'd probably groan, too, but most people were accomodating--which is pretty nice when you interrupt their reading or card game or conversation (wince). It took the most energy to approach people and less to get the information. I wouldn't call it fun work but I like it and want to do more--at least for a few days. It's a pretty exhausting environmentwith lots of activity and near-constant overhead announcements of people looking for other people in the astrodome, etc. LOUD announcements.

Folks in our hotel came from New Orleans as well. One guy we talked to at check-in last night(midnight) left N.O. at 6 that morning and they were just arriving now. Traffic was terrible. He and his sister were there for the night on their way to CO where they had relatives and jobs lined up. So that's good. The mayor wants people out of the astrodome and other shelters and into better places--homes, assisted living, etc I'd guess--by Sunday. I have no idea if this is likely or not. Last night they were (I heard) moving folks from one of the astrodome facilities (the Reliant Arena) into another (the Reliant Center) so they could close one and consolidate. Why they were doing this at 9 at night is certainly a question onecould ask. Anyway, there are apparently 250,000 evacuees in Houston, so maybe they can find spots for these remaining 7500.

Have to run. Kisses all around!emilyo"

Writin'

I am supposed to writing something for work, but judging by my progress today, I really never progressed much beyond eighth grade apparently. It's all an elaborate mistake that I am supposed to be composing prose about lofty and abstract ideas.

Shameless

In an effort to do damage control to the administration, FEMA bans reporters from photographing images of dead bodies.

Weak in Review

My personal beef this morning is why hasn't Bush said anything about the 1000 deaths in Iraq? I watched CNN last night and it was all hurricane, justifiably since it is grave and important, but they didn't even do a round up of other news.

Josh Marshall has been discussing the fact that FEMA has been undermined and debilitated by the Republicans since Bush came into office. Here he is on why there weren't sufficient preparations for the levy's flooding:

"We're hearing again and again now that there just wasn't enough money for a lot of this stuff. Terrorism was our big focus. Some kinds of preparedness aren't simply a question of funds. They turn on less elastic resources. But most of what we're hearing about is dollars and planning. So when we hear, 'well, there just wasn't enough for this and terrorism', or 'we needed the money for Iraq', the real answer is 'nice try'.
The president cut taxes every year of his first term in office. He's trying to push through a major tax cut right now. So it's not terrorism that took away the money. It was tax cuts. And to a degree, same thing for Iraq.
Choices have consequences. And bad consequences require accountability."

Updated to add:

Terrible Day

Of course it's not impressive that my last post about Katrina was only expressing selfish sadness about the impact that it had on my long weekend. It's terrible what it has wrought in New Orleans and Biloxi and I have ceased my flip comments about global warming and your tax dollars at work. In case anyone is monitoring what has been happening in New Orleans, there is interesting and grave commentary about Katrina's progress here and here (read through the comments, and ignore the dumb tangent on Malcolm Gladwell and the health care system in the US.)

Also, the news from Iraq seems to be exceptionally awful as well. I made one donation to the Red Cross, and am looking for good war relief effort organizations in Iraq.

Exito

I had to do a group project in my spanish class this time around and I have to admit that I resented it mightily. Towards the end of the semester, I completely lost it with one of my classmates, as it was gradually becoming clear that it was going to fall to me to spend several hours designing and laying out a newspaper type publication. My anxiety was somewhat heightened by the fact that our teacher suggested on two occasions that we disband and join the other groups. Fortunately, my vacation and the due date for the project dovetailed neatly and I had a couple uninterrupted hours of struggling with Microsoft Word and its table functions. This evening the group received this email from our hard ass spanish teacher. For those of you who don't read spanish, it's along the lines of we kicked ass.

"He leìdo la revista de ustedes y, què puedo decir, està excelente. Felicitaciones. Me ha gustado mucho. Tiene coherencia, todos los artículos van muy bien con el propòsito de la publicación. Creo que han hecho un muy muy buen trabajo. Hay detalles especìficos en el texto de cada uno, cosas pequeñas (de gramàtica y tambièn deregistro --coloquial/formal, localismos y cosas de ese tipo), pero el conjunto es sinceramente excelente, sencillo, sin pretenciones, coherente. Me sobran elogios."

Katrina and the Waves

So, I was buying sunscreen in the Duane Reade when my travelling companion called to tell me that her flight from Boston to Ft. Lauderdale was canceled and its likely that mine was too. Naturally, everything into Ft. Lauderdale is put off. I got booked onto a flight for tomorrow through Cincinnatti, but really I am not very optimistic.

It's sad. Very sad. Because I've been planning this visit with friends for two months.

We will see what tomorrow brings.

Backdated

I've avoided blogging for a few days, more than a few actually. Last weekend I was in Georgia for the wedding reception of my childhood friend. That was nice in some ways, but sort of wierd in others. Its funny how much you think about people that you spent so much time with as a child on a daily basis. It's nice when those people reach out to the adult you and you get a chance to see how people have changed and remained the same. In the end though, its a wierd excercise, because all the reasons why you ended up not staying in touch are still there. After awhile you run out of things to talk about, the parents of your friends are still crazy, and they are not your parents after all, so how did you get here eating lunch with them?

Of interest is that as part of the wedding festivites, I went to the oldest open saloon in the United States in Fernandina Beach, Florida and a couple days later was absently watching IFC, which showed Sunshine State by John Sayles. Two scenes between Edie Falco and Timothy Hutton are filmed in this saloon, just across from where I was sitting, so that was an unexpected bonus.

This week I have been on vacation in New York, but today I am going to Miami for the weekend. Unfortunately, it is looking like there are going to be rain all weekend. It's uncommonly lovely here in the city and I am flying into the eye of a hurricane. Nice. The friend's who I am travelling with are despondant [Edited to say, despondant, I first said desolate], and I've responded to that with invariable cheerfulness and good-naturedness, which is in truth probably really irritating. Denial can be a wonderful thing.

Two steps back

Goal weight: 135
Weigh in 7/23: 143.8
Weigh in 7/30: 143.8
Weigh in 8/6: 142.4

Weigh in 8/15: 143.8

143.8 seems to be my default these days. Nothing much to report except that planning and circumstances overwhelmed more for a great deal of last week. I had a couple exceptional days towards the end, but overall, I did go back to my starting weight. It's possible I could be retaining water, blah, blah blah. I did go jogging, and that is worth noting.

Operation Rescue?

Good post on why NARAL would have been justified in not pulling their anti-Roberts ad. Myself, I personally can't see why this is any different from Swift Boat Veterans for Truth, and if the right can play dirty and speak in half-truths, then why can't the left?

Tripped Up

Salsa workout class at the Y went terribly last night. We were doing all this work on isolating the hips and the torso. I started out great, and my hips were swinging back and forth like everyone else's in coordination with my knees, but I have been experimenting with jazz shoes for dancing (I looked for a picture of the shoes I bought, but haven't found them yet) and my foot started getting really sore. By the end, I could barely keep up with what we were doing. I made up for it by swimming laps for twenty minutes or so after, thinking that a two-activity workout is greater than the sum of its parts. It did actually make me feel like a little bit of a bad-ass and afterwards I ran into one of the students in the class who very kindly said that I was doing fine.

Whenever I get into a situation like this, where I can't keep up with what people around me are doing, I get transported back to eighth grade gym class, when my survival instinct told me to check out of whatever was going on. There are lots of uncomfortable memories of this, running up to hurdles and stopping and walking over them, walking the cross country course because I got tired, the tumbling unit where we had to do cartwheels in front of everyone, and I just physically could not propel myself over myself on my hands. I don't want to wax too melodramatic over something as hackneyed and clicheed as eighth grade gym, but I think its important to remind myself that I am trying to go about responding to disappointment and frustration differently, by meeting challenges with open arms, rather than throwing in the towel and going home.

Summer bug

I went and saw this movie, Junebug, over the weekend. It's funny and sad and gets the at the details of life in North Carolina with remarkable accuracy.

Baby steps

Goal weight: 135

Weigh in 7/23: 143.8

Weigh in 7/30: 143.8

Weigh in 8/6: 142.4

Progress may have been somewhat undone by big starchy breakfast and a steady stream of snacking yesterday. Today I am trying to get back into my routine.

The Toughest Job

Yikes. Starting in 2007, American servicepeople will be able to apply to the Peace Corps as one option for completing their service. Via my friend Michael.

Serious Film

I am going to see this film tonight. It's supposed to be very good and very upsetting.

Soap Opera Digest

WARNING: Spoiler Alert! If you watch Six Feet Under and have not yet seen this weeks episode, close your browser now. I'm about to give this week's episode away, and it's a big one.

I thought they handled Nate's death in an interesting way, both the circumstance leading up to it and the actual consciousness of death in which he runs into ocean, with his brother and his father watching him. I especially thought it was clever the fact that they presaged it by making him into even more of a dick than he normally is. When he told Brenda he was leaving her, I literally thought to myself, "god, he deserves to die." There is a very satisfying tension to having him fall in love with a Quaker and be so taken by her peace and goodness, that he initiates and series of terribly destructive choices that would have in the end proved disastrous for him and his family. He thinks he is moving forward, never realizing he is continuing in his same self centered pattern of always wanting something different than what he has. When he was with Brenda, he wanted out, when he was with Lisa, he wanted Brenda. When Brenda fell in love with the cute french horn player, he insinuated himself back into her life and then after they get married, he wanted Maggie. I really think the whole last season is about us getting to watch all of those characters continue to make the same mistakes over again, or repeat the mistakes of their parents. This is with the exception of Claire, who has improved markedly after getting away from her art school buddies. As I am writing this, I am realizing there is probably a bit of double entendre in the last conversation between Nate and Brenda. He didn't say he was leaving her for Maggie, he just said he didn't want to continue, so perhaps he knew on some level that he was going to go. I guess one of them had to die after all, since the show seems to be all about the never ending presence of death in life.

Any other Six Feet Under fans? Discuss.

No progress

No change today at ww. I don't want to talk about it.

Goal weight: 135
Weigh in 7/23: 143.8
Weigh in 7/30: 143.8

Grass is Greener

It's nice at 11:15 on a Monday morning in August when you are at work and your work colleague calls you from her vacation, where she is already in a limo with a martini in her hand.

Limo. Martini. Whatever. I'm going back to work.

Five Stops to the Right

Blogger has this nice little function that allows you to run through a bunch of other blogs, by hitting the little button that says "Next Blog" and moving over to the right. I never fail to turn up interesting tidbits. Like this one.

Quote of the day:

"Anyone using the comment section to promote false doctrine will also be denied commenting rights. Thank you for stopping by."

I can't tell if this woman is for real or not, although I suspect she is. Yep, she is definitely for real.

The Tennis Bracelet or the Guy?

Guest-blogging today is my friend Renee. The last time I saw Renee, she was head-over-heels infatuated with a new fellow. Today, Renee updates us on her life:

"New Fellow" is okay. We're in that awkward phase that happens after you've been dating almost two months in which the man feels compelled to pull away...We'd been doing great, talking or seeing each other pretty much every day, then a week ago he asked me if we were "too emotionally invested in one another" (whatever that means). I was calm, and said I respected his need to 'slow down' and think carefully about next steps etc. Then I went away for a week on business (and for the bridal shower) and didn't call him until the day after I got back. He seemed to really miss me and said "when do I get to see you?" I said we should talk about that. Briefly, I said it was stupid for me to invest any more time or and energy into this relationship if he wasn't sure about me. Then I said, "you know me, you know what I'm about and what I have to offer. If you decide you want to continue to pursue things,you should give me a call. Otherwise, let's just cool it." I also said that if he didn't have the common sense to want to be with me, then he obviously wasn't as smart as I thought he was (I seriously said that! He laughed.) All in all, it was a good conversation and I feel like I wrestled back some of the power that I had lost by him saying he wanted to slow down. That was Saturday. On Monday he called to see if we could go out. I said I was busy everyday during the week, and then he asked if he could pick me up after my salsa dancing class on Thursday night. I agreed. I'm not sure what this means seeing as he didn't profess that he was over this slowing down foolishness, but we'll see. At any rate, whatever happens, I will end up with a committed boyfriend OR a new piece of jewelry, and at this point either is fine with me. Jewelry tends to last longer. (Have I told you I buy myself a new piece of jewelry every time I get dumped???) This whole episode has made me a lot less smitten with him than I was in the beginning. So that's the update.

Health

So last week I went back to Weight Watchers. After a two year hiatus. In 2003, I lost 30 pounds, which was a big deal, because if you take 30 lbs off, people notice. I had an intensely-felt love hate relationship with the the commercialness and gimmickiness of Weight Watchers, (there are some wonderfully funny and biting unwritten blog entries about how little I liked my ww leader at the time) but at the end of the day it was probably the most effective solution for me. Since then, through a combination of exercise spurts, calorie counting, trying to implement reasonable habits where food is concerned, and self-bribery I have kept it except for give or take 5 pounds. My original goal was 140, and and my lowest weight was probably about 137. Last week I weighed in at about 144. So, I don't technically have much to lose, but there has always been this extra five lbs or so that I wanted to get rid of and no amount of portion control, ww online, calorie counting, or jogging, swimming, salsa workout has gotten me there. I am therefore capitulating and going back to the meeting. (Actually I found a better group that I wish I had known about back in 2003.) I am embracing the whole thing: the "weigh in", the little cards with the numbers and the plus and minus signs that the nice ladies write in, the group discussion, stocking my refrigerator with fruits and vegetables, writing down everything I eat and tracking points. (1 pt = 50 calories. Anyone under 150 lbs is only supposed to eat 20 calories a day, which is pretty much impossible, since that is 1000 calories. You get a little overage fund you can dip into if you go over. It works out to 1250 calories per day.) I even bought their fussy little book for keeping track of things. I love it and I know if I do everything that they tell me to, I will lose weight. I am prostrate before the little green and yellow logo and the little pink letters spelling out the words: weight watchers. I am a weight watcher. Not a girl watcher. A weight watcher.

And you can play too!

Goal weight: 135
Weigh in 7/23: 143.8

Also, I would like it to be know that I got up and went jogging this morning. In the humidity that has descended upon Manhattan island. Which buys me three extra points.

Viva Zapatero

One year ago at this time, I was on vacation is Spain, and last night I found myself overwhelmed by my nostalgia for that lovely trip. In the spirit of my trip to Spain, I post a link to a translation of President Zapatero's remarks on the legalization of gay marriage in Spain. Via Gara at Garalog.

I don't know why you say goodbye, I say hello

So, at least three times in the last couple weeks, I've launched headlong into a story and the person I was telling said "oh yeah I read about that on your blog," reminding my that although I do not have as many readers as this New York blogger-girl, there are a few folks out there. Mostly it does appear to be my friends, which is gratifying. If there is anyone else out there that wants to say hi, you should. Post a comment. Open a thread.

Tuesday Blues

Really, I had one of the nicest weekends ever in New York this weekend. Brunch plans, dinner plans, invitations to evenings in the park materialized as if on cue. I went to a salsa class and thought it was fantastic. I heard Eddie Palmieri at Celebrate Brooklyn. I spent Sunday at the beach, exposing my fish-belly white stomach to the sun and ended the day drinking vodka tonics and playing cards just like I was on vacation. All that came to an abrupt halt with Monday morning when I realized I had a sunburn and was still nursing a stubborn head cold.

Wilson Calls on Bush to Fire Rove

Amen.

Can we get rid of Karl Rove?

I am simply fascinated by the unfolding Rove/Plame scandal. It's my obsession right now.

Sunday night passive entertainment.

I had given up on Six Feet Under when it ended with what I thought was an ending oworthy of "All My Children" last season, but tonight was really marvelous, with lots of the magic and humor of the first two seasons. Patricia Clarkson has showed up for another guest appearance and she is fabulously over the top as an aging hippie. The daughter, Claire, passed the time at a temp job pretending to sing You Light Up My Life. And Suzie Bright makes an appearance as herself, appropo of nothing but lending authenticity to a group of middle aged women partying.

Oh and things wrap up with a rendition of Jane Siberry's Calling All Angels. Couldn't be more perfect.

1-2-3-5-6-7

This afternoon, I was complaining to my office mate Lauren about how I didn't want to go to the salsa class that I had signed up for. When I got there it turned out that the four classes that I paid for didn't include my last weekend, when I was out of town. I went to substitute tonight's class for last Saturday and realized the I had to pay anew for a class this evening, but since I was there I did (and paid for) the Wednesday evening class. It was definitely worthwhile. It was an excellent review of the basic step, the right turn and the left turn. There were 60 people trying to learn salsa. Frankie Martinez broke it down for us. When we got into partner work I did get into trouble, but while we were doing the basic step ad nauseum I noticed that I knew when to move my hips.

Sad News

Reading the news in England just makes me feel sad. It's also sort of unreal.

UCLA's Art Market Sensation

You know you are doing something right when you open the NY Times and find the lead sentence of an article describing one of your humblest, most-hardworking friends. My pal Elliot, who was the date to my junior prom, incidentally, was featured in the Times Art Section this Sunday. One of his paintings can be found on the second page of the article.

Weekend in Boston/Worcester

I had a lovely weekend in Boston, catching up with friends, eating out, and enjoying very fine weather. I did a little salsa dancing on Friday night, and I am happy to report that I successfully danced with many, many people without making an absolute fool of myself. I found myself wishing that I could make turns that were actually graceful, but then I realized that I had to cut myself some slack and appreciate the fact that I was actually successfully following people and giving myself an opportunity to practice.

Sunday evening found me making a fourth round of margarita's at the house of the Mom of my friend Jessica and defending Alberto Gonzales as the the best possible thing we could hope for as replacement for Sandra Day O'Connor, which I realize I may come to regret. Also, we danced to the latest Romanian pop sensation, a la New Jersey college student.

For more of this, visit here.

Non-intervention

Discouraging insights on the United States response to the Darfur crisis from New Donkey.

Ethics and all that nonsense

Doctor's who advised interrogators at Guatanamo in the best way to break down a detainee were not violating their ethical obligations as physicians, according to the Pentagon. Hippocratic Oath, anyone?

Liberal Indictments

Juan Cole makes some interesting points about the Karl Rove speech at the New York State Conservative Party fundraiser. Particularly of note, is that John Ashcroft prepared several indictments of various accused terrorists, which is one of the things Rove accuses liberals of doing.

Update to remove obscenity. That's not necessary.

Pussy whipped

Over at The Poor Man, there are kittyporn wars going on (as in cat.) Say what you will, it's hilarious.

Who You Gonna Call?

A giant popsicle flooded Union Square in Manhattan on Tuesday. For real.

Clever Blogger

I took a leetttle break from my work and ran across Sue and Not U, which tells a funny story about her suburban Mom developing a progressively more astute understanding of the former Soviet Republics.

"And then I remembered it was Mom I was talking to, and I've now promised that I will not step one toe in Azerbaijan or she's telling Grandma. Last time I crossed Grandma and tried to return to Ukraine and miss Christmas, she shot me with her super psychosomatic Grandma power and gave me mono two days before departure."

Via Unfogged.

Fighting the good fight

Democrats are hanging in there on the nomination of John Bolton. Good for them.

Updated to add: Bad for Bush. Good for America

Movie Recommendation

If you can suspend your belief about Adrian Brody and Milla Jovovich being social misfits Dummy is a very sweet movie. Plus it has Ileana Douglas.

Blogroll

See there, over to the right, is a list of other interesting, funny, and important blogs that I read. I'll keep adding to this, if you know of any that I should be reading, please let me know.

Summertime

I went jogging this morning. It was hot and about an hour after I finished I was struck by light headedness and this intense desire to lie down. My kind office mates instructed me to buy some Gatorade, so I'm sipping on that.

I did accomplish some of what I wanted to this weekend. The apartment did get really clean and was was super neat until my normal routine began and my clutter jumped out into the living room. But its clean. Oh, it's clean.

Since I mentioned these isues last week, it's worth mentioning that I have been feeling less like I was in the mourning post-break-up period. I'm starting to wonder what might be next. Even if next ends up being nothing, just being on my own. Someone just invited me to this. I'm not ready for singles mixers yet, and may never be ready for an basketball-themed one. A friend of mine who has been single awhile, just met a new guy and we were talking about it on the phone last night. The falling in love thing can be painful and scary and exciting all at one time. Being by yourself can be nice, because you get to rest. Even though you miss the painful excitement.

The Top Ten List for Today

Human Events Online, The National Conservative Weekly since 1944 has posted the "Ten Most Harmful Books of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Century." Predictably, this list includes Marx, Lenin, Engels and Betty Friedan. Number 4 is the Kinsey Report. And John Dewey! Of the decimal system. Because libraries are dangerous.

Via Unfogged.

Already planning the weekend

The two main objectives for the weekend are:

• To clean the living room and cat box within an inch of their lives.
• To work on Newyorquina and a companion site that I will explain next week. For real this time. I am going to add links, edit entries, and create content. It's going to be marvelous. Just marvelous. Then I am going to write everyone I know and tell them to read it.

A good deed

Today I got cash at the Whole Foods in Union Square and shoved it in my pocket, sat in front of the park and ate my sandwich with a friend, and got on the six train and went to spanish class. I am always late for spanish class and today was no exception, and I hate being late to it, so I was running madly across 42nd street. I had just reached the building when some tapped me on the shoulder and handed me the $40 and the cash receipt I had put in my pocket. I was too astonished to even offer him part of the money, which would have been a nice gesture. I guess maybe I had some good kharma coming back to me today.

Off the Hook

It's really beautiful outside. It's too beautiful, as in you must be outside or it means you are wasting your day. I made the perfect cup of coffee this morning and then I went for a forty minute run, and then a thirty minute walk and then did crunches and stretches in the grass. Forty minute runs are a big accomplishment for me because I am often not quite in good enough shape to keep going for that long, but also because my left foot sometimes starts radiating pain just below my toes on minute 25 or so. I've got a good pair of shoes, and my foot cooperated right up until the end of the run. But when I put some weight on it during a stretch, I couldn't do it. I'm now icing it, which always seems to help, but I think this means I can forego salsa class. It can wait until Monday.

I have blogged about it before, but Achtung Baby is a good workout album as well as a good post break-up meditation, and it treated me well this morning. I keep wondering when the post-break up period is going to come to an close. It might be that it will happen just the second I fall in love with someone else. Or it could be that even though I know we were ill-fated and very unlikely to be happy together, there was a special and unique connection between us unlike any other in the world and when that comes to an end it requires a respectable mourning period. (For him of course, he brought a clanging shut to the mourning perhaps four to six weeks after with the inauguration of a new relationship. I'm not bitter, exactly, just curious as how he could let go of the bittersweetness so quickly.) So the question for me is, what is the mourning period? How long does it last?

Work and play

It's a long holiday weekend and I am trying to get myself together to do a big cleaning. Also a big run. (A big run for me, that is.) Also, I screwed myself on the holiday part of things because two weeks ago, I insisted that I must do x, y, z in the office and got myself reprimanded for I don't know what exactly, stepping on someone's toes, stepping out of my role, some silliness like that. It came down to power and ego. But now the deadline is Tuesday for this thing I said I must be allowed to do before we do y or z. So Monday when everyone is grilling tofu pups on their fire escapes, I will be writing a memorandum.

Another option for the day is a salsa class. But it's with a teacher I don't know. It's scary. Maybe I will drag myself down there anyhow.

I can't remember if we said goodbye

Big Bad Love was on IFC tonight. It's cool. A little odd. There is a scene where a state trooper and someone getting a ticket do an impromtu tango, and lot's of other good music, including Steve Earle and Tom Waits. So I enjoyed it. I was too tired to go to salsa workout tonight. I went home and ordered sushi. But I went for a little jog, so that is worth something. It takes exactly fifteen minutes to run to the foot of the hill that the Cloisters is on, and exactly fifteen minutes to run back. So that is what I did.

John Stewart is in reruns AGAIN this week, so I don't know what to do with myself in the critical hour when midnight approaches. I did call my father and read him the AP story about the narrowly avoided legislative showdown, which for the life of me I cannot see why I should think it is a good thing. (He did, naturally.)

I Am Trying to Break Your Heart

I know Wilco made a silly and arrogant documentary about the making of it, and it's been touted from east to west as the best thing as sliced bread until everyone is totally tired of it, but Yankee Hotel Foxtrot is really good to listen to when you are feeling blue.

What was I thinking when I said it didn't hurt?

Some noise and then some quiet

Saturday around noon I took the subway downtown and was entertained by this baseball team from Washington Heights that was enthralled with this Italian woman who was on the train. They all got on at 168th street and I heard one of the men ask her something in Spanish. When she told him she didn't speak Spanish, she was from Italy, their ears all kind of perked up and they all started asking her questions. What followed was like a talent show. Between 145th and 59th they literally took turns dancing and rapping to impress her. She was staying with friends in Washington Heights, she explained and she made the error of saying she didn't like the men in that neighborhood, she like didn't like Dominicans, with a little wrinkle of her nose. That provoked a series of guffaws and hoots, and pleas from the guys in the group that were Dominican.

They were charmed by her, I was charmed by them being charmed by her. I couldn't tell if she liked the attention or was actually a little overwhelmed by it. That kind of thing all the time would be tiresome, I imagine.

The rest of the weekend was quiet. I did have some communication with my ex, which frankly was just very sad all the way around. I go for weeks at a time where I am totally resolved and know its for the best and then suddenly out of no where, I can't stand the fact that I can't talk with him. (But I really can't talk with him now, that would be a disaster.) I had no idea it would be this hard to let go of someone. Even with the full acknowledgement of everyone involved that there isn't any way that it would work out.

Rich Text File

The problem with dating is the fact that it usually involved break-ups. And the thing about break-ups is that they continue to suck for months and months after the fact. So after weeks of circumspection and feeling better and knowing in your heart it is all for the best, you suddenly realize you are still raw and hurting and miss talking to the person more than you possibly could have imagined. And you really can't call them up and talk to them, and you know from experience that emailing is also something of an excercise in torture. Smart people would leave well enough alone and wait for the feeling to pass. But I am not a smart person. Living in modern times, I experimented with text messaging my ex last night. I probably shouldn't read too much into the eight word answer I got back, but it seemed to speak volumes about the degree to which he was moving on, and was preoccupied with new issues and problems, and not necessarily all that interested in hearing from me. I mean, it's natural for people to feel that way, but its still somewhat jarring. So the question is, is communicating with one's ex via one's blog also sort of a bad idea? Discuss.

Home again

D.C. was apparently not worthy of comment, since I didn't see any reason to blog at all for five days. I finished my second conference and got back to work and plunged into all the other things I have to do. I taught an English class last night which was fun. Although I did all these drills where everyone said, "I am wearing red shoes. You are wearing red shoes. She is wearing red shoes." And so on. I was starting to hate myself for putting these nice people through this excercise.

Here today, gone tomorrow

I left New Orleans after visting a graveyard and walking around the Garden District. I had lunch in this old timey diner near my hotel. Now I am in DC for another meeting, which of course starts at 8 am tomorrow on a Sunday. I need to find a profession that allows me to go to meetings that start at 10 am.

Updated to add: I can't complain. This trip has really been super low stress and its fun to visit places and stay in hotels you could never afford if you were on your own dime.

Jambalaya

I am down to my last few hours in New Orleans, and I am perched at the little cyber area in the exhibition hall, so I will make this quick. Last night I went to Napolean house and pretended to read Como Agua Para Chocolate in Spanish in the little courtyard. I descended further into gratuitous touristica when I went to Cafe du Monde and at three (count them three) beignets. I was on the phone with a friend of mine who was horrified by the possibility that I might return to my hotel room at a decent hour, and wanted to me get in a cab and go to some bar that might be called Rubyfoo or might be called Rubyfruit Jungle in the West End or "no, wait," he said "it is West Town." I did in fact call information but only found Ruby Tuesdays. I didn't want to wander to far afield and end up on my own, looking for a bar and coming up with nothing. So I stayed in the French Quarter. I went to hear some jazz in the Palm Court Cafe, which was very entertaining, they had Dixieland jazz and this gospel singer, who even sang some Hank Williams. Most of the people in the bar seemed to be locals and perhaps even regulars. There was this one woman who was particulary fun to watch because although she was likely around 73, she was dressed in this seafoam green dress and strappy high heeled red sandals. She was totally drunk and sort of weaved and bobbed around the restuarant, pulling the busboys and dishwashers out of the kitchen to dance with her. I met this nice woman, about my age, who talked to me about the weather in August and French Quarter Fest and Jazz Fest.

After the jazz place closed, I was heading down Decatur towards to hotel at a pretty close to decent hour and kept peering in little places to see if they might be worth going for a drink at. But I was getting sleeping and the fun of sitting by myself in a bar, looking expectantly for someone to talk with had exhausted itself for me, so I mosied on home. I was entertained all the way by the string of goth kids dressed in black leather bustiers and mesh, with big chunky boots that were obviously all headed for the same night club.

And the walls come tumbling, tumbling

The wall separating the cliff I live above and the highway that runs along the Hudson River just fell this afternoon. Fortunately (or unfortunately) I am in the Louisiana. It is pretty disturbing to get a little query from my friend Jill saying, did you see this? From what I can tell they evacuated a building close to mine, but not mine.

Crescent City

Yesterday I alternated between singing Moon Over Bourbon St by Sting and some song I don't know the name of by Lucinda Williams about Lake Pontchartrain. I eventually did finally make it out of the hotel and I road the street car on the St. Charles line out to a local hang out called Delachaise (?)that was on the way to Tippetina's, which is a bar that Tom Waite's talks about in Down by Law. Along the way I ascertained that Tippetina's does not open til 10 pm and given the fact that I had been up since six, after killing a couple hours in a bar with the tourist magazine from the hotel and then the New Yorker I hung it up and went back to the hotel. But I had a good andouille pizza sausage pizza and some excellently drawn Hoegaarden.

I haven't seen much of the city, but the fact that the city relies overwhelmingly on tourism for its industry seems to have a big impact on how everyone interacts with you. The cab driver coming in from the aiport asked me where I was from and when I said I was from New York, he said, "Oh you are from the United States! This is not the United States, this is hell. It is a great place to visit and an awful place to live." He was an electric engineer in his own country, but works as a cabdriver here, and said that in the summer there is no one here and no work because it is so hot. It is true right now that there are tourists everywhere you go and there isn't even a big thing going on.

The best thing about being here after spending the last two months in New York, is that when you walk outside, it's warm. When you walk inside it feels pretty much like it did in New York, its not even 80 F and the air conditioning in on full steam. But it's just lovely to be able to walk around without a jacket.

"Go on back to Greenville...just go on back to Greenville..."

I wish I was in New Orleans

It's embarrasing, I am here in New Orleans for work, and I have only spent 25 minutes outside of the hotel. I am have been working like a dog, but am now going to explore the French Quarter. Work has been super wacky and not in a good way, so I suppose its to be expected, but now I am going out to eat some dinner.

Busi-ness

It's 11 pm and I am just getting started with packing for a business trip tomorrow. Lot's of craziness at work, now I am off to back to back conferences for the next week. It's a little daunting, packing for a week.

Lunch-ie

Lunch today did not go the way I had planned. My first mistake was grocery shopping in Whole Foods last night. I felt like such a shameless yuppie filling my little basket with overpriced prepared foods. Then this morning I realized that I am about to go out of town tomorrow and that I have to eat all this overpriced food I just bought. That seemed easy enough since I have both lunch and dinner out of the house to plan for. I made a sandwich and a salad, but accidently dumped a tablespoon of sea salt onto the lettuce. The sandwich I made went to the homeless man on the corner, who I always try to turn down, but apparently cannot avoid giving food to. I just ate my salad and the little packaged quesadilla that I brought for dinner and the inside of my mouth feels like I went swimming in Atlantic Ocean.

I'm ending sentences left and right with prepositions. It's something I should really be ashamed for.

Early

I woke up sometime between four and five am and tossed and turned for an hour before giving up and getting out of bed. I'm writing in my blog, and counting calories, and matching my socks, but am now starting to get super sleepy. Technically the alarms doesn't go off for an hour and ten minutes more so maybe I can get more shut-eye. Insomnia sucks.

Low Rider

Yesterday I went shopping with an old friend who wanted a pair of low-riding jeans that would make her ass look round. We went to one of those stores on Broadway near Houston with walls of Levi's down one side and walls of Calvin Klein down the other. The young women that helped us were hellbent on finding the right pair of jeans for her and had an encyclopedic knowledge of the different styles, lenghts and brands in the store. My friend is always one to dress up a bit and on this particular Sunday afternoon, she was wearing sparkly stockings, knee high boots, and this short skirt. The first pair of jeans that she tried on looked unremarkable but fine. The girl in the back noticed she didn't like them, and said, "Why are you trying on those, those are too high-waisted for you." When my friend agreed that they weren't what she was looking for, the girl looked both of us over and agreed, "yeah those are the kind of jean you [meaning me] might wear, but not her." When I raised my eyebrows, trying to figure out whether I had just been insulted or not, she quickly said, "I mean, no offense." I suppose I could have been concerned about the implications of my wardobe, but I was soon distracted by the two women's conversation about exactly which part of my friend's ass looked flat on the second pair of jeans she tried on.

Saturday afternoon at the movies

This afternoon, I saw The Holy Girl at Lincoln Plaza. It's cool movie, a little bit unsettling, but not full blown disturbing. There is a lot about sex and religion and adolescence and its all filmed in an old-fashioned resort in Argentina, which serves as the backdrop to the story. It keeps you thinking about the people in the movie and their problems.

Something else to look forward to...

Stephen Colbert, (who once asked my boss during a Daily Show spot how many Nobel Prizes he has) is getting his own show to follow the Daily Show.

This is very exciting for me. I organize my late evening around Jon Stewart and Co.

Says Colbert: "We're going to deal with truth on my program," Mr. Colbert said. "We're going to catch the world in the headlights of my justice."

Via Julie Saltman.

Events Planning

Twice a year, in my job, I am responsible for putting together a meeting for a group of creative and humble people that receive money or have received money to do interesting and important things. I'm lucky to have responsibility and trust and somewhat free reign in how these meetings happen. I have a relatively generous budget to do this and a staff person devoted to helping me make everything happen the way we would like it to. I like these people and enjoy seeing them and derive a great deal of gratification from producing an event that is helpful and interesting. It's the best possible circumstance under which to have such a role.

These meetings, however, make me a tad bit insane. I am somewhat of a mess the day before and the day after. I obsess about the finer details of the conversation, the catering, the quality of the moderator, you name it. After all is said and done, I often find myself in the most inconvenient places in a puddle of my own tears. I once broke down in the middle of a party, in fact it was a salsa/tango themed holiday event at the United Nations . My boyfriend at the time whisked me out there and onto a bus heading towards home and very helpfully pointed out that it could be worse. I could work at the sporting goods store that we were driving past.

That is all to say that this is one of those weeks where I have this particular meeting that is crazy making. And I am starting to feel the crunch.

Pasos

After my little victory on Sunday at the dance studio, I suffered a smack-down. Last night, I was back at the Salsa Workout Class at the Y, where we did some samba. Usually half way through the class we all go to the side of the classroom and dance forward across the floor, in some combination. I hate this part, because its harder to follow the teacher and it's too easy to bump into someone. It is visually arresting to see ourselves in the mirror when we all get it sort of right, this crowd of students dancing behind our teacher a la Fame. The smack-down came when had to do this particular samba step that was totally complicated. I couldn't do it, I couldn't even pretend to do it. I could sort of struggle through some of the other parts with some flailing arm motions that approximated what my teacher was doing, but this one step I just gave up on. The, later in the class when we went back to salsa, there was another little step that involved a hip roll, which also seems to be beyond me. I hate how ill-coordinated my body it. I just hate it. Also, I got a haircut which I'm not too fond of. It's that kind of week.

Another Sunday night at home

Today I went to church, which was good. It's hard to say that without kind of wincing, because I feel like it communicates this whole set of messages about the way I might think and what my priorities might be that are just incorrect. Saying, "today I went to church" rings of mom, dad, and the kids dressed in Sunday best shaking the pastors hand, singing hymns, reading the Bible and generally thinking about being the upstanding members of the community. And that's not what I'm about at all. But I won't belabor this point any longer. I did go to church. I had a hangover and I slipped out early to get to my salsa class, but I went, and I felt better for it.

What was really cool about today was the salsa class. Because nobody showed up. It was just me and the teacher, so I got to practice dancing with a partner for a full forty minutes. I made lots of mistakes and I have to give him credit for being tirelessly patient. I would get something right, and then get it wrong again a moment later, but I did get some things right, some of the time. And it was fun. It was really really fun, dancing around the studio.

Enemy of the People

Here is yet another sign of the new United States version of fascism on the rise. There is a legislator in Texas who wants to name a stretch of interstate for country music legend Willie Nelson. Says the AP article...

"But two Republican senators, Steve Odgen of Bryan and Jeff Wentworth of San Antonio, said they didn't want Nelson's name on the road that crosses their districts, citing the musician's fondness for drinking and smoking, and active campaigning for Democratic candidates."

It's that last little bit that gets me. They kind of betray themselves, though with the smoking and drinking part too. I mean, how many country music legends don't have songs that glorify drinking and smoking?

People doing impressive work in exciting places

Newyorquina salutes my colleague and pal, M. who is starting a public health fellowship in Kigali, Rwanda. M. is documenting her experiences in a blog of her own that is thoughtful and entertaining.

Mashie

Dear God, what torture and angst I have been spouting. Let's talk about music.

Today I am listening Los Angeles's Indie 103.1, which is about the best radio station in existance, I'd guess. They just played the mash-up of the day, which was a combination of Mirror in the Bathroom by English Beat and Riding on the Metro by Berlin. Call me old fashioned, I'd just as soon hear both songs one after another.

Difficulty

Rereading that last post I sound awfully discontented, so I think I should add a word or so more to this. I'm not at all unhappy in my life or really dissatisfied with the things I have been able to do in my education, spare time, and professional life. Moving to New York, grad school, the job I have been in for several years, losing 30 lbs and keeping it off, learning another language, teaching English are all activities that do in fact have loads of meaning for me and I don't underestimate the importance of them. So it's not that I have really been blocked or had difficulty finding meaningful things to do and I don't take the capacity to do any of this for granted. I think what is bothering me, and has been bothering me since the election is a larger question about how to organize my life. There are all sorts of universal difficulties, sometimes caused by nature and chance, but more often caused by human error, greed, indifference, and apathy. We all are guilty of various incarnations of this from time to time, although some obviously more than others. We all learn our roles, our place, and our way of fitting in and making it in this world. Those lessons teach us ways of shielding ourselves from all the potential ill that could come to pass (financial ruin, loneliness, illness, being the victim of a crime.) We develop ways of being to protect ourselves, but those habits insulate us from strangers and from the unknown. These habits are ground into us from the day we are first spoken to (along the lines of don't talk to that strange man, don't go to those parts of town.) Changing the way we interact with one another ranges from challenging to impossible. From the little bit I know about her life, Marla Ruzicka was so clearly an example of someone who was able to transcend some of these day to day rules and regulations that we all live by to a certain extent.

Last fall, my friend who teaches seventh grade knew I wanted to do some volunteer work in the neighborhood, so he set me up with one of his students, a teenage girl whose had loads of trouble with her family and with schoolwork. She didn't do work in school, was stubborn and intransigent with teachers and with her foster mom, but when we got settled in at my apartment, she would try any excercise I asked her to. At the beginning, it was super-awkward, and often making conversation with her was next to impossible. I was conscious of the fact that didn't know much about what the kids are listening to and on the walk to my apartment I sometimes gave up on thinking of things to talk to her about. The first few times I was supposed to pick her up I desperately wished I has dinner plans with friends or could go home and watch TV, but it did get more comfortable over time. She was probably about three years behind in her reading level, so reading books was a little torturous, but we were plugging away, and I kind of got into finding little excercises that might be good for her. In the end though after a few months, she quit showing up for tutoring, and after she stood me up a couple times, I told her mom to please call me in the future, but for now it didn't seem to be working out. I took from all this 1) that it is that it's hard to get yourself out of your comfort zone, to do something different with someone who isn't necessarily going to be comfortable around you, 2) perhaps I'm not necessarily well-equipped to help someone with a different life history and experience, 3) even though I probably live an eighth of a mile from this child, in a certain sense we don't share a community or neighborhood, we function in entirely separate worlds, and finally 4) poverty and abuse and crappy schools make it hard for kids to learn and shut people off to new experiences.

And then I read about someone like Marla Ruzicka and I feel a little helpless, I guess.

Cog

I have been thinking more about Marla Ruzicka and about what I said about "feeling insignificant in my less than robust life" a day or so ago. Yesterday, I was in therapy trying to explain my thinking about her to my shrink, because one of the points that he makes all the time is how I need to focus on living, dealing with daily stresses, doing work on my house, saving vs spending, balancing rest with play as unremarkable, as normal occurences and dynamics to be managed with a minimum of anxiety or self-judgement. (I don't have an anxiety disorder or anything, but perhaps I am a wee bit prone to obsession.) I was saying that focusing on this as a goal in therapy is, in some respects, self-indulgent. To worry about living well and buying things for your home and organizing your life so you derive gratification from it seems to be such a capitulation. We are all such little cogs in the system that constantly puts up barriers to doing meaningful or valuable things, barriers to doing things that have real significance or meaning for people around us. And here is this woman that was concerned about the war in Afghanistan who just bought a plane ticket and set herself up as her own human rights advocacy outfit, started an NGO, got funding and, in some cases through the sheer force of her personality, made a measurable impact on the biggest crisis of the time. Yesterday, I actually found a conservative blogger, who I won't dignify with a link, that dismissed Marla Ruzicka as "a contributor to the World Socialist Web Site and an admirer of Fidel Castro." The very act of trying to do something to counterbalance the bloodiness of the Iraq war is called into question.

Now on paper, I realize this sounds like your classic leftie hand-wringing (apologies to Allison Bechdel) and perhaps I shouldn't be working myself into a state over some silly bloggers. I've allied myself with the tortured classically-white liberal guilt informed community organizing at various points in the past. At other times, felt really frustrated by them. So, perhaps I am engaging in pointless navel gazing, but I feel like I'm reflecting on something that a lot of people feel, which is that we are relatively powerless to change the course of things in this country right now and that organizing your life to make any sort of meaningful contribution against the less admirable dynamics of human behavior is tough.

Impressive person

Marla Ruzicka was killed in Iraq over the weekend. She is by all accounts a remarkable person, who makes me wonder what the hell I am doing here in my less robust life. View the Salon obit here (you probably have to watch a little advertisement before you get to the article.) Here is another article, written before her death, about the organization that she started, Campaign for Innocent Victims in Conflict

Via Unfogged

Slowly, slowly

Last Tuesday I went jogging before work and I feeling very pleased with myself, indeed. What a contrast with today. I was full of energy and endurance, but today I did only half as much and I was exhausted by minute nine.

You say tomayter

Via Ogged, see what kind of English you speak. It would be more interesting if the quiz broke down what is "General American English," but its not that finely tuned a tool.

Your Linguistic Profile:
55% General American English
35% Dixie
5% Upper Midwestern
5% Yankee
0% Midwestern

Retrospect

Since I started writing this, I haven't been sure whether Newyorquina is serving a real purpose by encouraging me to write more, or whether I am producing anything with real content, substance, or wit. I had visions of becoming one-of-the-gang of the bloggers that I read regularly, but that hasn't happened, perhaps because my blog is boring, or perhaps because I'm not a regular comment-poster on most of them. But I kept doing it, because it was kind of fun to think of things to talk about and every once a while, someone would comment favorably on a post.

Yesterday, I read through the entire blog, and I realized that I am, in fact, happy with the purpose it has served so far. I started off awkwardly at the beginning and I noted an affect that is grating in some cases and pretentious in others. But over the months, it seems that I have gotten more comfortable with the format and with putting together relatively succinct entries on my day-to-day, mundane struggles and rants. In this setting at least, I'm not a good writer, because I don't have a good sense of how my own voice sounds to a reader and I don't yet have control over the tone, pacing, and affect that I employ. But I see progress and feel like the blog functions as a good excercise, for now at least, in articulating observations about my life, some of the issues I think about, and the outrageous shit that appears in the news.

Smug

I have already been for my jog today. I worked out today. I rule!

Spring is (sort of) here and its a little bit easier to get moving in the morning. My apartment smelled like heated cat box this morning so getting out into the brisk fresh air was sort of welcome.

Last night I finished In Sheer Rage by Geoff Dyer which is a personal memoir about a man who is trying to write a book about D. H. Lawrence. One might think I would have trouble getting interested in such a book given that I know practically nothing (actually really nothing) about D.H. Lawrence. I remember a copy of Women in Love being in house when I was five. So I was surprised how much I liked this particular book. In great part, it has to do with the fact that he weaves some critical observations on D.H Lawrence in with some very funny writing about his travels to some of the places that Lawrence lived and some rueful, self-deprecating comments on his own life.

Rites of Spring

The decent weather has come to New York and everyone is a little bit giddy to see the long winter come to an end. I had a very summery weekend, even though its not quite yet really warm. But in anticipation of the new season, here is a list of things I did to celebrate:

Made fish tacos for friends
Went to the park, jogged
Took a nap
Went to the park, read
Went to a salsa class,
Went to brunch (outside!)
Had a pedicure
Bought sandels
Took new sandals to the park, walked, got blister, put normal shoes on and finished walk

Of course it is Monday and now I am back at work. I actually put in a couple hours in the office on Saturday, which was relatively painless. We will see how much I get done today.

Poco a poco

OK, now this has become a salsa blog. How una norteamericana overcomes her intense fear of trying move in public and learns to dance. Or at least is able to go enjoy dancing in a club. That really is the objective. Just to be able go out and enjoy it. Last night I went to the dance basics class at the Y because they were doing a latin dance on this particular friday. Ah, the Y, where people wear workout clothes and tennis shoes. We did a bolero, and practiced little arms motions with the merengue, and then went to salsa, where I was not OK exactly, but better. Better. Better than I was.

Little bittersweet reminder

I was trying to figure out what was going on with my credit card balance this morning, and was pulling various cards out of my wallet. There, suddenly popping out of my wallet, was a ticket stub from a movie theater in Madrid. I stared at it for a few minutes, trying to remember which movie it that my ex and I went to see in Spain this summer. Then it all came back to me. It was a little tiny revival theatre and we went there to see Last Tango in Paris, which, which oddly and unexpectedly, we both absolutely loved.

The second step is admitting you have a problem

Last night I went to a salsa party to dance and had to face some of my demons. I don't think people who know me would think I have social anxieties, necessarily. It turns out, however, if I walk into a room of pretty people who know how to dance, especially if that dance involves steps, I immediately become terribly intimidated and am convinced that I have intruded on a party to which I explicitely was not invited.

I held up pretty well though under pressure, I think. I did the little dance class and struggled through the practice sessions. When the real dancing started, I danced with a couple people on the dance floor, although I spent the whole time feeling guilty for imposing myself on my partners. The nice thing about the scene was that it was full of people who really love to dance and that was what they were there to do. So it was fun to watch and to chat with people.

BBQ not bombs

I went to the anti-war protest in Fayetteville this weekend. I was impressed with the diversity of the crowd, in terms of veterans, peaceniks, trade union folks, and students. I did see a few of the wacky people that I used to know in Durham, which was funny. I also had a real eastern North Carolina bbq sandwich from the vendor selling lunch and was moved by a number of the speeches from current service people and veterans. It was worth the trip down to visit my folks. (My Dad actually came along with me.)