Not Bridget Jones

I'm not sad. I'm not desperate. I'm not Bridget Jones.

Tuesday, April 25, 2006

Such Dreams

I had a dream last night that I ran the Boston Marathon, wearing a t-shirt that said "I quit!" Figure that one out.

Monday, April 17, 2006

God bless single parents

I have a friend....let's call her Anna.

She was my co-wroker until a month or so ago...she's the one whose position I took over when she left. Anna has two kids; a boy, 5, and a girl, 3. She dicroced the kids father, and he a drug addict who is in and out of jail. Her current boyfriend broke up with her a few weeks ago. Life is a struggle for her. Thursday was her birthday.

So my boss and I decided to take her out. There is a musical she really wanted to see, and tickets are hard to get and expensive. We were able to get tix, but, only a pair. So, we modified the plan. We told her that she and the kids were invited to my place for lunch. We got Chinese (her favorite!) and had cake. Then she opened the card, and saw the tix. We told her that she was going with Bossman and that the kids would stay with me.

Now, let me say: her kids are good. no temper tantrums or destroying anything. But, they are kids. High energy, lots of curiosity. And, of course, there are two of them. We had fun playing living room soccer and watching the Powerpuff Girls, but I have an all new respect for Anna. When you have two kids on your hands, you can't be selfish. Your world revolves around them. Of course, there are benefits, like having the little one curl up with me and go to sleep, or the 'big boy' tell me that I'm cool. But to do it full-time, with no help...I can't imagine. I'm so gald that I watched the kids let Anna have a night on the toen seeign the show she was dying to see. She deserves it more than anyone I know.

Thursday, April 13, 2006

The Day After....

The panic attack...

Went surprisingly well. I spent the night out with my boss (no, not like that! He's gay!!!) And it was fine. No panic attacks. I guess the key is to let it pass and to keep on going on.

Tuesday, April 11, 2006

Damn, Damn, Damn

I had a panic attack at work today.

Sunday, April 09, 2006

The past comes back to haunt....

10 years ago, I had a roommate. (Well, more than one, but this story is about a particular roommate...) Now's the time when I need to find an appropriate pseudonym for him; so, let's call him Joseph.

When we became roommates, I was 20; he has 23. That was also when we started sleeping together. We were the best of friends; and the best of lovers. It was definately with him that I had my sexual awakening. All women have it; when you really become aware of yourself sexually. But, we were dating; we were a unique version of FWB; we were roommates with benefits. We kept it a secret; and we were not romantically attached. And it broke my heart in a million pieces.

Even after we stopped being roommates, the affair lasted for almost four years. Then I moved to Boston and got married; and he moved to New York and found his place in the world. Somehow, despite the the pain we had caused each other, our friendship always remained strong. After my husband and I split up, he took me away for a weekend; to a mutual friend's destination wedding, paid for my room there, everything. I met his most rescent girlfiend, he's met my boyfriend. We talk every few months, and whenever I'm in New York, we get a drink have dinner...all as old, old, friends. But it's all very casual. We never make specific trips to see each other.

He called me yesterday. First he told me that he had broken up with his girlfirend and moved out. This is a good thing, she wanted different things out of life than he. Then he invited me to come to the city for three separate and specific occasions: to see his band play, to go to a party, and to an event at the business he owns.

So, am I reading too much into this, or does it sound like he wants to warm up the soup?

Thursday, April 06, 2006

Drumroll please!

I have brought up to date major events of the past few months. Regular blogging shall soon commence!

Monday, April 03, 2006

What a way to make a living...

One of my co-workers (at the not film job) left. In order to properly tell this story, I need to make another reveal. That job is at a professional theater company. I am a sort of jack-of-all trades there, working mainly in the box office during shows (hence the on three weekd off three weeks schedule), but I also do other jobs-things that don't fit into other job descriptions or nobody else has time for.
So, as I said, a co-worker left. She was the house manager. We figured out a way to handle the rest of the season: I would take over her administrative duties, and we would hire part-time house managers.
The part timers just aren't working. So, I am now their supervisor, and house managing some of the shows myself. And I am on salary. And I am working 40 hours a week. I'm not sure what to think about that. The security is nice, but what about my freedom?

That job will be the death of you....

Quick backstory....
My mother has been teaching in the same school for over twenty years. Last year, her department hired a new teacher, a black man, the only teacher of color in the chool (if not the entire school system).
In January a student accused him of "improper conduct." Without due process, he was fired. Without going into the entire story (after all, this is my blog, not my mother's), the is great reason to believe that the accusations were false. It is not hard to draw the conclusion that racism was at the root of his dismissal. But that's not what this story is about...

This situation caused my mother a great deal of stress. Not only becasue the firing was unjust, but because it has sent the message that any student can simply make an accusation against a teacher, and that teacher will be fired.

So, one Monday night back in February, my mother called me and said, "you'll never guess what happened today."

After two class periods, her vision got 'funny.' She went to the nurse, who took her blood pressure, then called an ambulence. She spent most of the day at the hospital. My stepfather and aunt went to the hospital with her, and she forbade them to call me at work becasue she "didn't want me to worry."

She got the rest of the month off. She started exercising, cut down smoking (from two packs to five smokes a day), and started eating better.

Her first day back, the same thing happened.

She finally was able to go back to work last week. But it is time to come up with a new plan. That job is killing her.

Sunday, April 02, 2006

Our New Neighbor

At first, the rumor was that the fire was an electrical problem in the laundry room. Then we got a memo from the building manager.

The fire was set by a homeless man who had been living in a storage area near the laundry room. His home was fire damaged. So he the storage room next to our apartment.

We didn't realize it until the police came around, and told us to call if we saw him.

The first time, my roommate actually had to open the door to the crwal space himself. The cops didn't want to. This went on for several weeks. Finally, he left for good.

We felt bad, after all, we all have a certain sympathy for the plight of the homeless. But, at the end of the day, we didn't want him burning down our house.


Back in January.....

A Thursday evening....

The boyfriend was over. We were in the middle of being intimate, in a rather spectacular, this-is-the-best-ever sort of way.

Then I heard sirens. And saw flashing lights through the window. And heard the fire alarm in my building.

"It's probably nothing," I said. "But maybe we should check it out."

So, we got dressed. The boy got his bag together, thinking that maybe it was time for him to go anyway. I went pee. Finally, I opened the door out of the apartment. And immediately slammed it shut. The hallway was full of smoke.

Calmly, I said "ohmygoditsarealfireweneedtogetthecatandgetoutofherenow!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

The cat was so good about getting into the cat carrier. We went out the back door, which leads to my private patio area. There is another door out of there, then a corridor, and a final metal door leading out to the alley.

The metal door to the alley was jammed. I knew we would die.

The boyfriend took over. Thr smoke dispersed somewhat, and we went out to the alley through the other back door to the alley. Then we went to the side street near my buidling and checked things out. We decided to get something to eat. He wanted to go to Uno's, but I didn't think we could get away with the cat there. So we went to the crappy pizza shop instead. It was the right choice.

I put the cat carrier down at a table, on the bench seat, and we went to the counter to order. I got a tuna grinder, figuring I could share it with my cat.

We went back to the table. The carrier was there, but the cat was gone.

So, I had to expalin to the pizza guys that my building was on fire, so we evacuated the cat to the pizza shop, and she had gotten out, and could I please look around for her.

After about ten minutes, I found her in the basement storeroom, under a shelf. She was good though, she came right out for me. We ate our food, and went home, at which point we were able to go back in and try to recreate the sex we were having at the beginning of the story.

What caused the fire? That's a story for another day.


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