Exit Stage Left

I'm not one for online dating. Oh, who am I kidding? I'm not one for dating. Period. In high school my friends were convinced that I'd be the first one to get married, because I was always the last one you'd find out with a boy on a Friday night. I'm not sure how being socially awkward led them to believe I'd be a baby bride, but that's neither here nor there, because they were all wrong anyway. I'm on my way to spinster status; ready or not, here I come.

My love of all things Craigslist has led me, on ocassion, to surf the personal ads. I usually do this when I'm beyond bored (like tonight), and could use a good laugh (like tonight). I have never been persuaded by a posting to actually write an e-mail to anyone, I mostly like to point, click and stare. I am constantly amazed by the unreasonable, hopeless and nearly impossible demands of men out there, but women, too, are not exempt from this. I guess I'm surprised that people who must "resort" (for lack of a better word) to posting a free personal ad on the Internet then have the nerve to be so damn demanding. I mean, if you're looking for a girl who: enjoys the outdoors, sports, bar hopping and dancing has an eclectic taste in music, and "takes pride in her appearance" then are you really going to find her sitting on the other end of an Internet connection? Sure, I've heard the success stories, we all have. I'm sure many of you reading this post have them, I'm not saying they don't exist, I'm just posing the question.

Obviously I'm not any sort of a relationship expert, or anything, I'm more the other end of the spectrum, but this seems sort of backwards to me. Is it just me, or wouldn't we all get a lot further if we were more open-minded and pro-active in making connections in our day-to-day lives? Take one look at the missed connections (a personal daily vice) and you'll see that a good number of us wish we were bolder as we find our ways through daily life in the city.

Then again, maybe I'm just bitter because I've yet to stumble across the post that says: "...seeks a prematurely graying, curly haired, chubby work-a-holic with an insatiable flair for musical theatre, the Internet, Politics and 'The West Wing.'" Yeah, I'm sure that's the only reason I'm bitter.

Every now and then I get into this irrationally pensive mood. One where I feel like I'm on the verge of tears and I can't quite get out of my head. Tonight's one of those nights. I'm not particularly sad, or depressed, and nothing is specifically bothering me, though I'm sure it doesn't help that I don't feel that great either. I'm sort of stuck in this strange head-space, where I can't stop thinking about all the things I wish I had in my life and all the things I do have that I wish I didn't. I'm uncomfortable, slightly bored, jittery, edgy, nostalgic and lonely. This is generally the kind of night where I'd turn off the computer, wrap myself in a blanket and watch The American President or back-to-back-to-back episodes of "The West Wing" in the dark of my living room with a glass of wine, but even that doesn't sound appealing. I'm not tired due to my power nap when I got home from work, don't feel like cleaning or starting that online Christmas shopping. I've been reading and listening to depressing music for the last hour and that's getting old now, too. I'm just generally inconsolable and I sure hope this passes soon, because I can hardly stand to be around myself.

So, Thanksgiving is over and the craziness of Christmas ensues. I turned on the radio this morning and my ears were met with the onslaught of Christmas music. It seems unbelievable to me that it's "that time of year" again. I managed to avoid "Black Friday" shopping, which I'm not sure is a good thing; there are some major deals to be had on this sacred day, capitalism at its finest. Unfortunately, my shopping budget doesn't allow me to buy plasma TV's, even if they are discounted by $1,000.

Despite my general distaste for the holidays I actually enjoy the shopping part. I like buying things for other people and I LOVE writing Christmas cards...though in past year's they've become more like New Year's cards. I had grand plans for this weekend: I was going to make my list, check it twice, and then at least get a headstart by shopping online, from the comfort of my living room. That hasn't so much happened yet, but I guess technically I do have two more days. My shopping generally starts on December 23, but this year I'm determined to be done by then. I guess I'd consider myself successful if I manage to send my niece's gifts before August---which is how long it took me this year. If I pull that kind of crap when she's old enough to "get it" she's going to think her aunt's a bigger slacker than her uncle....and that is saying something.

I don't like holidays. Particularly Thanksgiving, but Christmas is a close second. I appreciate the sentiments of these "holidays" but the hype, the deluge of food, the family... it's all just overwhelming and ultimately becomes a major let down.

When I was a child I was incorrigibly negative and confrontation. I can't even begin to tell you how many times I heard "If you can't say anything nice..." A couple years ago my sister and I got into a wicked fight at Thanksgiving dinner and in the heat of the moment I said, "I'm never spending Thanksgiving with you ever again." At the time it was an emotional statement that I may not have meant, but when the next year rolled around the inevitable family drama was enough to keep me away. I kept hearing my mom's voice, "if you can't say anything nice..." so I decided to "not say anything at all" and I stayed home.

I've now successfully avoided family drama at Thanksgiving for three years running. I'm quite content to spend Thanksgiving day clearing out the Tivo and eating Dorito's directly from the bag, but when you tell people this is what you're doing they tend to pity you. I must've gotten no less than half a dozen invitations to dinner/drinking binges, and I turned them all down (admittedly with a sense of guilt). It's not that I don't have a place to go, it's that I choose to do something different. My decision to spend my holiday differently than others doesn't mean that the sentiment of Thanksgiving is lost on me, however. I am thankful for my family, my friends and my freedom; I love them all, but I think they'll be more thankful for me if I stay away for the celebrations.

At Starbucks we were taught to recognize our customers by name. Several years ago they actually started a program where we were supposed to write customers' names on the cups when taking their order. While, in theory this is a good idea, in reality it's a little weird. Nobody wants to walk into a Starbucks for his/her Venti, Vanilla, Breve, No Foam, Extra Hot Latte and then admit their name; it's like admitting that a real human being would actually drink that beverage! Still, it's a tenant of good customer service to recognize customers by name or, in this case, beverage. In Starbucks terms it creates "The Third Place," a comfortable place where you feel welcomed and appreciated.

There's a little convenience store on 38th and Irving that I tend to pop into to pick up random "convenience" (read: unmentionable legal addictive stimulants) items. I don't go there all the time, but apparently I have appeared enough to "make a name for myself" because tonight when I stopped in the guy behind the counter, who I take to be the owner, said, "Where you been, girl? Haven't seen you in awhile?"

"Yeah, I've been out of town." I said, digging in my wallet, avoiding eye contact.

"Where you been?" he asked.

"New York." I said

"Ah, you didn't tell me you were going out of town. I was almost worried since I hadn't seen you." He said.

"No? Well, sorry, next time I'll be sure to run it by you." I said grabbing my change as I bolted towards the door.

While I realize that this guy was trying to recognize me for being a "regular" customer and therefore important to his business I can't help but be slightly weirded out by the whole experience. Am I irregular or would this experience freak-out anyone else, despite what his/her customer service experience has taught?

Every year about this time I get an urge to bake. This year Mary and I special ordered a dozen bags of Hershey's Cinnamon Chips (Mary, I think I still owe you for those) which are way harder to find than they should be (hence the need to buy in bulk). They make the most absolutely divine Oatmeal Cinnamon Chip Cookies...and the chips are irreplaceable. Last night, I got home reasonably early, cooked dinner and still had an urge to stay in the kitchen, so I decided to break out the cookie sheets and get an early start on holiday baking (it couldn't hurt to "butter up" my boss before Thanksgiving, either). As I was dropping the stiff dough onto parchment paper, scraping the bowl to get every last drop of batter, I remembered watching Mom make homemade noodles when I was a kid; sneaking them from beneath the pastry cloth as they sat on the counter and hoping that she'd neglect to get a glob from the mixing bowl, so I could eat the goo. But, tonight I realized I'd crossed the threshold from child to adult as I took painstaking care to make sure every last oat stuck to the side of the bowl would ultimately transformed into a cookie, not just eaten in its raw form.

New York City is unlike any other place I've ever been or probably ever will be. It's a world unto itself. The people in New York tend to think that the world revolves around the 31.2 square miles of the island of Manhattan which couldn't be further from the truth. Manhattanites are just secluded from the rest of the world; they are oblivious to the rest of the country. Do they even realize that the rest of the U.S. population doesn't have to pay $4 for a four-pack of toilet paper, or $15 for the fixin's for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?

Despite the high rent, long commutes, non-existent grocery stores, unavoidable walking and stair climbing and more tourists than any single group of people should have to deal with New York is, to me, absolutely magical. A place that transfixed my imagination for 15 years before I ever set foot on its shores. On my first visit to the city I actually cried walking up out of the subway into the madness of Times Square. Incidentally, this is a part of the City I'd now avoid like the plague if it weren't for the dozens of theatres that line the sidewalks.

I wanted to live in New York even before I'd ever visited, but once I'd visited my dream became on obsession. I frequently make decisions that could affect me in the long-run based on my future residence in the big city....though, obviously, I've yet to make that leap. Every time I visit I have this moment in the first 24 hours where I think to myself, "What the hell are you thinking?! Do you really think you could live here? Really?!" And then just one short cab ride up Broadway past Lincoln Center, past Tavern on the Green and through Central Park at midnight instantly brings me back to the "reality" of dreaming of my future life as a New Yorker.

I just spent four days in New York attending a conference. At many points of each of the days I spent in The Big Apple (my favorite place in the world), I would have thoughts about writing on this blog: whether it was the weather, the smells, the sounds, the shows, the company, the conference, whatever might've crossed my mind, but I had no access to a computer for a length of time appropriate to post. And now I'm home with plenty of time and I can't decide on anything fit for public consumption. I'm sure it'll hit me soon enough, so stay tuned.

I love bags. Bags are goodness. I own a good number of bags, but unlike many of my friends I don't really see myself ever buying an expensive bag. I probably wouldn't buy a Coach or a Kate Spade, though I certainly understand why others do. Yeah, I'm cheap, but besides that, I'd simply be afraid to carry a bag worth two days' salary. I change the bag I carry with me on an almost daily basis. I try to match the bag with the shoes and the belt--the whole nine yards--though frequently I fail miserably. Being a lover of the practical I have a weakness for messenger bags or really any bag made of nylon or canvas. Manhattan Portage are my favorite. I generally buy a new one on each visit to New York, automatically building additional $50 into my trip budget.

I prefer bags with long straps that I can sling across my body, but about three years ago I realized that big bags filled with papers and books and credit cards and pens galore were really doing some damage to my right shoulder. The solution, I decided, was to begin carrying a smaller bag. I had some success with this for a short time, but eventually the papers and books and brochures and heralds and agendas and calendars and notepads... well, they all add up and a big bag is the only thing that will do the trick.

I went to a meeting today where we're asked to bring promotional materials for all our upcoming events. I'd love to reveal our budget numbers for the five, yes five, shows we have going on during the month of December, but I'm fairly certain that posting those numbers would be frowned upon, so let's just say: WE HAVE FIVE SHOWS IN THE MONTH OF DECEMBER! Sufficed to say, we have to make a lot of money. I was more than happy to bring heralds for each of the five (a captive audience is an easy target for sales) as well as our super-fantastic, absolutely brilliant brochure for the 2007 season (yeah, it was my project, but it really *is* brilliant). All that aside, when I gathered together materials for 30-40 people and tried to stuff them in my purse (an actual purse today, not a messenger bag), I realized that there was no way that they would all fit. While I was walking to the meeting and juggling arms full of paper in 40 MPH winds, I realized why women who work in marketing and PR carry such large bags: because they have to, it's necessary for the job. Perhaps my early love of big bags and resent for the back problems they cause were indicative of my career path. But, then again, maybe I just carry too much crap.

Happiness is coming home from a long, shitty day after a not-long-enough, shitty weekend and finding that Tivo has recorded your favorite episode of "The West Wing" so you can watch it without having to get up and put the DVD in the DVD player.

I've always thought digital cable was just plain stupid. I mean, sure, the picture is clearer and all, but unless you have an HD TV can't you just survive with the regular ol' stuff? I mean, seriously, who needs 600 channels and when do you ever have time to watch them all? Stupid.

When I moved into this house the digital cable was already connected and rather than disconnecting it only to reconnect it in my name Mom and I just decided to leave it the way it was currently set up. Afterall, I had all the channels of necessity: USA, TLC, CNN & MSNBC, plus the requisite TNN & TBS for Saturday "Sloth" day and the price was reasonable (actually, cheap), so I was good to go.

Last night I switched over to MSNBC at 10 sharp to catch "Countdown" and got a strange message: "Channel Not Found. MSNBC. Press info for ordering information." I switched off the cable box, reset it and the Tivo all to no avail. The strangest part of this was that in my bedroom, where there was no digital cable box, all the lower channels came in fine, including all the aforementioned necessities. I figured it was a burb in the system and dismissed it.

Tonight I got home from work fairly late, after a long hellish day, only to find that the same missing channels were still "unavailable." I was pushed to the brink of being a complete bitch today by a patron and decided I wasn't going to let Comcast fuck with me so I called to complain and have the error fixed. The first person I got told me that I subscribed only to the basic service and that those channels were not part of my package.

"But I've had this account for nearly four years..." I said.

"Well, that may be but the technician must have made a mistake. I can reconnect those channels for you, but it will be an additional $30 a month."

I told her I needed to consult my bill and see what was going on and that I'd call back...which I did.

The second person was really nice, but told me the same thing: "it was a technician error and that for the last three and a half years I've [my mom] been getting channels to which we didn't subscribe and that recently an "audit team" had visited my neighborhood and found the error."

"Well, that may be the case," I said, "but that's not my fault."

"It certainly isn't your fault, but if you want to continue receiving them you'll need to upgrade your package. The difference in price is roughly $30."

I could hardly get mad. I mean, I've known Mom had a screamin' deal and it certainly makes sense that Comcast screwed up for what she's been paying. I just politely said, "thank you" and hung up the phone.

At first I was freaked out. I mean, how could I possibly live without access to "Little People, Big World" or "Countdown" (especially "Countdown")? But, then in the back of my mind I had an idea... what if I bypassed the digital cable box and just connected it from the wall? It was giving me the channels that way in my bedroom. So, I gave it a try and guess what, folks? It worked! The picture is not as clear as with the digital box, but Tivo will not have a problem changing the channels this way AND I can watch Keith to my heart's content. I guess we successfully bucked the system for nearly four years, who's to say we can't do it for four more?

Since I got home from Seattle on Sunday evening I've had a hard time sleeping. After three nights of being up until after 3 am and being up by 7:30 am I figured I needed to do whatever I had to do to get some sleep last night.

A couple months ago I heard a story on the radio about how if you put socks on kids' feet when they go to bed they fall asleep more quickly. A couple of the hosts of the show tried this for a few nights and determined that it was true for them too. So I figured, ah what the heck, and gave it a try. I used to wear socks to sleep all the time, but at some point abandoned the practice. After last night's experience I must admit that I will be a loyal sock-wearing sleeper from here on out. I fell asleep in less than ten minutes and didn't wake up until the first alarm at 7:15.

I know a lot of people who are fans of "the PM's": Tylenol PM, Advil PM, Lunesta, Ambien and I will be recommending the sock trick to them. It could be a pleasant surprise.

Here are some incomplete thoughts on this election. I've bulleted them, because trying to put them into flowy language would be challenging for me right now:

• I am DISGUSTED and embarassed to live in a state that would actually choose (by popular vote) to do the following:
  
  • File a lawsuit against the Federal Government to force repayment for costs associated with illegal immigration. It's in the f'ing U.S. Constitution people, a state cannot sue the Federal government. Oh, yeah, vote to break the law--that makes a whole lot of sense.
    
  • Vote to include in the State Constitution verbiage that defines marriage as being "between a man and a woman." Can someone please explain to me how two women, or two men being married (which is not currently proposed) affects your or your parents, or your neighbors of simply the institution of marriage?
    
  • Vote to exclude domestic partners from receiving basic legal rights. What did the Gays ever do to you? Are they not human? Do they not deserve the same rights as everyone else?
    
  • Re-elect two of the biggest hate mongers I've ever seen: Tom Tancredo and Marilyn Musgrave. (the Musgrave race is still pending, though. Angie Paccione might pull it off---fingers crossed. Update to follow).
• Voting issues. Did we not fucking learn anything from Florida and then Ohio? It's the 21st Century folks, technology shouldn't cause this many problems. On that note, I love our Mayor, check out his comments about the problems here in Denver here.
• A woman Speaker of the House?! Hell's yeah. That's going to make for a pretty picture come the State of the Union. Dumb, Dumber and Nancy Pelosi. Priceless.
  
• A Democrat controlled House for the last two years of Dubya's reign. He's scared and Cheney is clutching his heart just thinking about it. Lame Duck indeed.
  
• George Allen defeated? It's possible though we likely won't know the outcome for some time. He was considered a Republican front-runner for the '08 run for the President. Nah, nah, nah, nah...nah, nah, nah, nah... hey, hey, hey---GOOD BYE!
• Joe Lieberman. This man is an f'ing joke. He's wishy washy, a fucking sympathizer and a fair-weather friend. I didn't like him when Gore chose him, I don't like him now. He stole a blue seat---and still calls himself a Democrat. Fuck him. I'm glad I don't live in Connecticut.
• Hillary wins in a landslide--I'm saying it now folks: Clinton/Obama in '08---that is a sexy ticket in a smart way, of course.
• An entire night of Keith Olbermann. Uh, yeah!

It was a big night for me folks. No, I'm not talking about the election (more on that to come soon). The seventh and final season of "The West Wing" was released on DVD and thus my collection is complete.

The most exciting part: I finally cleared out the Tivo tonight of all of season seven. My 40-hour recording capacity is available again. Though, "Studio 60..." is quickly stacking up. Wonder when that DVD release date is...

If you know me at all you know I'm not particularly spontaneous. I'm the queen of lists and organization and I like to have a plan...for everything. So, that makes the fact that at 6:55 on Friday night I decided that I'd leave for a quick weekend trip to Seattle to visit some friends on Saturday afternoon (Mike & Mary: I love you!). I'd like to say that details of the excursion are coming soon, but there's little on which to report--unless you want to hear about the differences between me as a single city gal and my friends who are a happily married, suburban couple with a seven-month old daughter.

Okay, you've got me; that's fodder ripe for blog posting. Stay tuned.