just so you know

on the decision to cut my hair


Remember this photo? 


I have a confession to make (in case other photos haven't given my secret away). I never cut my hair in a bob this year. The layers fell in such a way so as to give the appearance of one. And I loved the photo. So much so that I was ready to run out the next day and manifest my destiny. But on my mother's advice I allowed myself two weeks to mull it over...to make the cut or not? I liked it. Unfortunately, I'm knew deep down that my massive amount of hair would never lay quite like that. And so I continued to let the hair grow. And grow it did. Suddenly. So suddenly it seems to have gotten long. Really long.

In Bed, Bath, and Beyond yesterday, I encountered one of the most helpful people I've met in months. He was standing in front of the vacuums giving information to customers. I approached and said, "I want your best vacuum. But I don't want to pay $550. I have bed bugs."
"Ahhh," he said, "follow me." And he led me to the steamers. "This, this is what will get them--eggs and all." A steamer?! Success. Steamers are wildly cheaper than vacuums and will empower me to treat all of my clothes myself. Can you imagine the dry cleaning bill if I had to send away everything I own--I'm not just talking about washing everything, I'm talking about that AND dry cleaning every nice dress, suit, etc. that now hangs silently and patiently in my closet. This Antonio character had just saved me upwards of $400 (vacuum and laundering expenses). Not only that, he directed me away from the $80 bed bug covers ($160 for the two I would need) and indicated that the $12 covers in combination with other measures (steamers, natural oils) would serve me just fine. Antonio made me a very happy girl.

I left with a bounce in my step. 

I was quickly weighed down by the five bags in my arms. Don't let appearance, wealth, or status deceive you. At heart, every New Yorker is a bag person. Think about it--we don't have cars in which to dump all of our stuff as we go out and about for the day. The necessities for a day's errands are housed in the hundred little bags we carry on our arms (or the one bag that is the equivalent of a Ford Expedition SUV). 

So it began with the five bags, coupled with my inability to find my monthlong metro-card. Add in the sweat-yielding humidity and my blue plastic rain coat, as well as the MTA's inability to take anything other than cash (which of course, I never have). These things on top of a restless night of sleep the night before (for fear of the bed bugs) and I started to cry. 

I threw my hand up in the air, hailed a cab, and decided I'd take it all the way home. This would have been one expensive cab ride, but based on all the savings Antonio had provided me with, I didn't care. That is until two dollars and 90 cents into the ride (keep in mind it costs 2 dollars and 50 cents just to get in), I found my metro card in my book of David Sedaris essays. I did not find this funny. I asked to get out, and tipped him 2 dollars for his troubles. This is how I managed to pay $5 for a cab ride around one city block. 

And so it was with my five bags, my sweat-drenched back, and a somewhat-tear-stained-face that I took the long subway ride home and decided it was time to cut my hair. Of course, bed bugs and frustration? A haircut was the obvious remedy! How could it have taken me so long to figure out?  Not a huge cut. Not a huge change. I won't be getting the bob. Just a few inches. Time to cut the dead-ends out of my life. Lighten things up a bit. I need some bounce in my hair--maybe then I'll get taht bounce back in my step. 

oh boy oh boy.





i was first drawn to blogging because i liked the optimistic slant of everything. 

i promised myself this would not be a place to air dirty laundry.

oh, but mmmmmmmm.

i am in a crabby mood.

and i am so over some stuff right now.

like the dirty dishes that pile up in the sink.  

over it.

and friends who make plans and then fail to follow through. 

over it.

and feeling like everyone at work hates me because i'm just trying to ensure we all do our job well. 

over it.

and yes i know i need to be a better listener. and yes i know sometimes i too bail. and yes i know i'm imperfect. 

so very imperfect.

so i'm working on it, okay?

but i need you to try to work on it too.

okay?

because i sure as hell hate feeling like i'm over everything

or blemishing the face of my blog-spot-lover with rants. i really hate that.




a c-jane inspired POST-EDIT (you know because she's taken to doing post-edits and i love that):

the dishes in the sink were cleaned (not by me) mere minutes after writing this, so perhaps i spoke too soon. then i got myself a thing of ice cream from the grocery store, set my laptop on the floor where it played 30 Rock (season one) via insta-netflix, and set about organizing all my under-the-bed-storage (cleaning and organizing are favorite activities of mine).  so the night turned out just fine and again life is la-la-laaaaaaokay.

oh and there might have been some beading go on too. and that's always good. 





image via sabino.

yesterday.


yesterday i went to the park. the hudson in front of me. the cloisters on my right.

and i beaded
yes, i'm that girl.

and for dinner my friends showed me the light. mexican food as it's intended. where you order in espanol and if you look at the guy at the bar just long enough you get a free round of coronas. 





yesterday was good

of course i said that.



my place of employment was abuzz last night.

1. dara torres came in. 

she made a big splash at the olympics last year. remember? five-time olympian. 



i took dara's visit as a most sacred and important sign from the swimming gods on high that i am on the right path and should in fact continue in my pool endeavor. 


2. and then andy murray came.

you see there's this little thing going on in ny right now. it's called the us open. 
he came right up to the desk with his friend, but quickly became engrossed by the television screen across the room. his friend and i both looked at him, chuckled and said, well he's gone. and i then said, i guess he kinda likes tennis. and his friend looked at me and said, uh, yeah, something like that. 

you see i didn't realize it was andy murray. andy murray is the number two tennis play in the world right now. yes, that's right. i said that about the number two tennis player in the world as he stood right in front of me. 

the shame that has now been brought down on my tennis loving family. 

why couldn't it have been federer, or nadal, roddick even? i would have recognized them. 





well, so i'm off to swim now. and pay my penance. 


on track.




a trip's worth of laundry is at the wash and fold

my not-so-pristine-anymore (once-white) duvet is at the dry cleaners

the men are mopping the apartment building's halls this morning

my art project is mid-instillation

i am completely caught up on all three seasons of burn notice (mmm...that michael westen)

and yesterday i ate approximately seven servings of fruits and vegetables