i just gotta say

this whole layoff thing? we are saving one helluva lotta money on gas! booyah!

there are better things out there for me

i know this. i feel it. b/c i was laid off today. one door closes, a window opens.

i wasn’t the only one, either. ten percent of the organization was cut, 18 ppl.

i’ll tell you all, for those of you that don’t know me personally, or don’t know me well, i was miserable for a long time, so i’m looking at this as a blessing, an opportunity, more than anything.

i’m not going to go into it b/c, while i may have what some might call a big mouth (me??? never), i like to keep things classy. (anyway, all the juicy stuff is for my book, so you’re just going to have to wait ) but. i will say the following:

1) i have a sneaking suspicion i’m going to be getting a lot less headaches now.

2) while i’m stressing about cashflow (holly was laid off three weeks before our wedding, so, this doubly sucks) i am overwhelmed w/joy that i will be able to enjoy the season that i am ape-sh*t crazy for: fall.

 as in, i won’t be chained to my (ex) desk in my (ex) windowless office. i’ll be able to actually (gasp!) walk around, go to the park (with holly. during the *day*…sigh), stomp on soon-to-be-crunchy leaves and pet as many puppies as i want w/out any concern for time. as in: no busybody admin ladies who are all oddly obsessed w/my comings and goings noting in their little black admin books when i’ve left and when i return. the delight i feel at the prospect of this …well, i almost have no words for it.

3) twitter. w/said admin busybodies out of my hair, the tweets are unlocked, baby! it is ON! i’m in the process of putting the feed back up. bring it!

and, finally, last but certainly certainly not least:

4) lunch. lunch at home. and i don’t even have to wait til 11:30. (and i can eat it on the roof.)

good night, my lovelies. and to my facebook peeps: a million thanks for the kind words! (turns out facebook isn’t just great for coming out, launching blogs, having Big Fat Gay Weddings (BFGWs) and birthdays. it’s also pretty awesome when you lose your job.) you all are saying what i’ve been thinking since i got the news at 10 this morning, my breakfast barely digested and my to-go coffee mug from home still hot: this is a brand new beginning for me. and i’ll tell you something in case you don’t already know:

i’m completely unsinkable.

and like all those friggin cats that found their way into our walls this winter, i always land on my feet. something wonderful is going to come of this. i don’t know what right now, but it will. and altho i’m stressed in an unfamiliar new way, i have my life back. i. have my life. back. and i’m never going to lose myself like that again.

is there, like, a syndrome…?

when, like, a person can’t stop eating pistachios?  if so, i definitely have that syndrome.

holly and i have only had two longstanding disagreements

well…more like three. but i’ll get to the third in a minute.

the first was deciding on a bedspread. i know this sounds completely lame and shallow but it is what it is, and we could not, for the life of us, mutually agree on a bedspread until like, six months ago. this is after years and years of living together. i wish i was kidding.

see, holly’s taste is…classy. i mean, mine is, too, but well, she’s more of a minimalist. we both like straight lines and clean edges in furniture and whatnot, but i’d like to pair all that with say…a madonna wall mural. or framed ramones posters. also pink flamingo lamps. so yeah. the bedspread thing. pretty tough when one wants, like, whispers of bamboo shoots and the other wants a new york city skyline.

the first time we butted heads on this issue was not too long after we got our first official place together in d.c. now, i’m fuzzy on the details, of course, but here’s how i remember it going down:

maybe a couple weeks before i left to go home for yom kippur, she pointed out a bedspread to me in a catalog. this was way before i learned about her…very strong, let’s say, desire for things to match. (she even matches her flip-flops to her outfits. i only wind up matching by default b/c i wear black every day. black with jeans. those always match. i’m like a walking bruise, basically. but anyway.)

“isn’t this pretty, honey?” she said, pointing to it. smiling, hopefully, oh so hopefully, that i’d love it.

“it” was a bedspread, one that we still have now (on our guestbed), kind of indian-looking made out of shiny satin or silk earth-toned (first problem right there: earth-toned) material with flowers (dingding! second problem is right there: flowers. tho i must say they were small and tasteful).

“yeah, it’s nice,” i said, probably not paying 100% attention (shocker, i know) and thinking we were just window shopping.

“i’d like to get something like that,” she said.

“uh-huh,” i said, most likely thinking about puppies or hot chicks or any of my many other interests.

so i get back from yom kippur, fresh off the train, fresh out of a cab, walk in the apartment and bam: there’s the bedspread from the catalog. on the bed. with matching shiny orange and brown pillows. a number of them. and a crapload of matching towels in the bathroom (orange and purple; hand towels and washcloths). i need to note here that the bedspread was–and is–nice. it just wasn’t…what i had in mind.

“aren’t you so happy?! i went shopping with alane and got all this! don’t you love it???!”

i think the look on my face said it all. let’s just say things did not go well after that.

it took about six years, but we finally got a bedspread (thank you, west elm!) we both really like a few months ago.

the other disagreement:

salsa.

omg i know. salsa. but look, i like the sugary stuff: tostitos. or, better yet, paul newman’s “zero proof” tequila lime. holly likes the black bean stuff, which, while the flavor isn’t bad per se, has a weird slimy texture thing going on. or at least her favorite brand (again, paul newman’s).  

our compromise only came about two weeks ago:  Pace picante sauce. right there in front of us the whole time. go figure. not an earth-shattering discovery, mind you, but hey. when you’re in the mood for tacos, salsa can make or break the deal. i know you know.

the last longstanding disagreement: rollercoasters. holly’s for them. i am not.

i’m listing this disagreement last b/c honestly? i don’t think we’ll ever come to an agreement. we will have to agree to disagreement.

she talked me into going on one just once and…let’s just say it ended badly. (you’ll just have to wait on that story; trust me, it’s a doozy) let’s just say wild horses couldn’t drag me on one of those things. as in: if there’s a hell, it’s full of rollercoasters. (my personal hell, at least) and roaches. and daddy longlegs. and snakes. and pleated chinos.

 but i’m jewish and we don’t believe in hell. so. disaster averted. (yet another reason being jewish is great. i mean, as if the lox and whitefish salad weren’t enough )

if any of you would like to share your best couple’s disagreements, please post them. yes, even if they’re even less Deep and Meaningful as bedspreads and salsa. i know. and you actually thought i had a soul.

holly does not want me to fall asleep on long car rides

and yet, she does not want to stop for starbucks. (not today at least.) doesn’t she see these things are distinctly related??

she also doesn’t like it when i call herds of cattle we pass in western pee-ay (where we are now) “hamburgers.” killjoy!

is it weird that i find the sound of all the noisy daytime summer bugs incredibly relaxing?

how can something so scary-looking sound so awesome??

anyone else with me? or am i just crazy? (ok don’t answer that one)

it’s cicadas, i think. and heaven help me if i ever come face to face with one (oh and i have. if you were in the maryland-dc area a few years ago, you, too, experienced the 18-year cicada phenomenon. yeah, they bury eggs or something and then they hatch 18 years later and basically take over your life once you step outside. *freaky*!) i’m not such a fan of bugs (who is? if you are i’d like to hear from you and hear your rationale tho i bet it something w/the friggin ecosystem or something and you’re probably right) but hot damn! there is nothing on earth like walking outside of an air-conditioning building or stepping outside of your house or car and just hearing that whoosh of sound combined with summer heat and sun…it’s like slipping into a warm bath. 

it wasn’t until a couple years ago that i finally figured out why i love it so much: it’s august. that giant cicada sound to me means august. and august for me growing up in northern new jersey was returning from summer sleepaway camp (i only went for the first session, only three and a half weeks but it could have been a year, it felt so long) feeling like a champion that i had braved it on my own for ”so long” and with the names, phone numbers and addresses of a gazillion new friends not to mention a golden tan and a new appreciation for everything i had left at home. before that it was day camp (also only the first session), always kind of tedious tho fun. and always a great sense of relief that it was over so i could be at home.

august was the pool with my mom (a teacher; i was lucky enough to have her home every summer), homemade cut-off jean shorts and errands together on our little mainstreet and visits with my dear grandma, the three of us going to friendly’s and then just grandma and i, sitting on her third-floor cement balcony surrounded by little pots of red geraniums, her smoking her unfiltered pall malls (and putting them out about a minute later, telling me never to smoke the whole time) and me, listening to the cacophony of bugs, watching the planes fly by high above, thinking about the new school year about to start (promising myself that i’d start my homework earlier after school, which i probably only did for the first month, if that) and dreaming about what it’d be like to be grown up one day.

i guess, stepping back a little bit, the sound of the cicadas just takes me back to a simpler time. one where i was surrounded by all love, all the time (i was a lucky kid), shielded by my parents and grandma from the crueler, less comfortable parts of life (namely, adulthood)…a world where my biggest worries were homework and friends and then, eventually, studying for my bat mitzvah. when sweat was something that meant i was outside playing, something that dried off in due time, not something that ruined my dress shirt after a quick lunchbreak outside in the heat.

i think, also, it’s just…summer. and even if many of us are stuck in sterile, air-conditioned offices the majority of the day, those moments when we can slip out for a few minutes during the day, or just walking in or walking out for the day, the rush of cicadas–with their soft-to-loud and then loud-to-soft clamour–reminds us that outside four walls is nature and summer and heat and, yes, bugs. they were there when we were kids, and they’ll be there always, waiting for us, sounding exactly the same year after year. i have also determined that, b/c i am one of those freakazoids who doesn’t actually go ga-ga over summer (i go ga-ga over fall), their sound also means that fall is not far. oh fall. fall fall fall, how i absolutely love and live for fall.

so really, that’s just about it. and if you’re new to my blog, no, i don’t always blog about wildlife (kittens yesterday, bugs today). i’ve just been meaning to tell you all how much i love the sound of cicadas. very un-rocknroll of me, i know. but i love puppies, too. and deer. and pretty much anything cute and furry. so don’t even get me started…

so now the friggin drugdealers across the street have a cat

doggone it! little black kitten that just plays and slinks around on the sidewalk outside their stoop. (it never runs away! how is this?!)  i am not a fan of cats. if you’ve read this blog for a while you know this. (they crawl into our walls and ceilings, for example. or crap and/or spray all over our backyard, and yes, our roof, too.) i am not keen on drugdealers either. or neighborhood prostitutes. or the ppl that do/buy the drugs with or from or near said drugdealers/prostitutes. all of them are a real nuisance and make things…yeah, kind of dangerous around here and also threatening. so wouldn’t it just figure these loudass ppl would get a friggin kitten. and the worst part? the very worst part? it’s totally cute. dammit!

p.s. we went to south florida, land of jerry seinfeld’s fictional parents: early-bird specials, polo shirts, gold chains, white velcro dress shoes, condo assocations, the whole nine years. post on its way!

water aerobics

that's me, gettin ready for water aerobics. wait, no it's not. it's me getting ready for synchronized swimming. haha.

ok, at the risk of sounding, like, 80 years old (not that there’s anything wrong w/being 80; in fact, i very much hope to be 80 one day, just not for 50 more years)…i tried water aerobics last night at our local pool and omG, i’ve never had so much fun exercising in my entire life.

holly joined me, too. we almost didn’t make it to the class b/c we were getting on each others’ nerves–longtime relationship’ers out there, you feel me on that one, i’m sure–and i was pretty much like, in all my jersey charm: screw it. but she was like: come the hell on. let’s do this. and sure enough, it was truly awesome. i even got roped into an adult swim class starting this wkend. yes, i suck at swimming. i won’t sink or anything, but i can pretty much only do that one stroke only old ladies (yes, the ones that regularly wear bathing caps, usually the puffy vintage floral ones) do–you know, the breast stroke, but the one where you never actually dunk underwater? yeah, that’s me. i do that. and yes, you can laugh now. (oh thanks a lot. laughing at a girl that can’t swim. that’s really nice.)

10,000 and counting!

oh and btw? i’ve totally hit the 10,000 mark! (surpassed it, in fact)

this is all thanks to YOU, my loyal readers! happy friday (or “fry-day,” as nicolina and i refer to it; a day for good times and many many fries ) and a sunshine-filled weekend!!! (supposed to gawgeous in bmore/dc) woohooo!

what’s with all the frowning politicians???

have you noticed?

gov. o'malley frowning. why so sad?? shux.

ok, i think we all know why he's frowning. wait, mister, did you just eat half your face?

no explanation needed here. (hey, go back to whoville! dr. seuss is lookin for ya!)

as per usual: i’m just saying.

happy fryday!!! woohooooo!