Ginger's follies, foibles and fixations.
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| You Listen to Me, Mr. Kick-Ass Ginger's follies, foibles and fixations. |
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Thursday, May 30, 2002 Check this out. It's a website where you can locate other New Yorkers' blogs by subway station! You can look me up at the Clinton-Washington C Train stop in Brooklyn. The best thing is that you can get to know your neighbors--without having to actually talk to your neighbors! I heart the Internet. Apartment-dweller's exercise program: 1. Walk down three flights of stairs with your laundry. 2. Realize you are one quarter short for the washer. 3. Walk up three flights of stairs. 4. Fetch one quarter. 5. Walk down three flights of stairs; deposit quarters in washer. 6. Walk up three flights of stairs; rest. You'd think after doing this a few times I'd remember to take a fistful of quarters downstairs with me, but perhaps somewhere in the back of my mind I'm working off those Tofutti ice-cream sandwiches I've recently become addicted to. Had a meeting at work today which went very well. It's still a kinda-maybe-sorta job, with the idea that if I just keep the faith and work hard, money will eventually fall out of the sky and into my lap. Something like that. But I have to admit it's hard to resist when someone you get along with well is sitting across the table telling you that you're wonderful and they are desperate to find some way to keep you around. Of course it crossed my mind that maybe they think I'm wonderful because I am working for free, but I naively hope there's some sincerity there, especially in the "we really hope to be able to pay you someday" part. So I'll stick this one out and see what happens; I have a good feeling about it. Now, if only I could figure out how to pay my rent... I got a package from Amazon.com today, containing a little hardcover called 21 Dog Years: Doing Time @ Amazon.com, and if you consider yourself my friend you will do the right thing and go immediately buy it now. I did, and I had already read a galley copy, and I am working for free so you have no excuse. It is hilarious, telling, biting at times, insightful, and did I mention funny? Anyone who has ever worked a job will find something to love here. Besides that, as I've said before, I want Mike to get really famous because then a friend of mine would be famous and that would be cool. posted by Ginger | 10:10 PM You know you're getting old when you suddenly understand what it means to "throw out your back." I woke up this morning, ready to be fresh at work by noon, and inadvertently did some weirdo twisty thing when trying to get out of bed. A sharp pain jagged through my upper back and I was paralyzed. Okay, not paralyzed--I could move, but it HURT. After about half an hour I could sort of turn to the side without complete agony, and within an hour I had worked my way up to a sitting position. For a minute there I thought I was going to be one of those people they'd find in a month, half eaten by my cat. But in the end I'm fine. I took some Motrin and within a couple of hours it had managed to mostly work itself out. Looks like little miss thirtysomething better get her shit back to yoga class. Oy. Work: Well sort of. It's quite up in the air right now, so I don't want to go into great detail. I am working, to an extent, and suffice to say I enjoy what I'm doing and who with, and I think it could be a cool thing to try to make this into a real job. If that happens before I go completely broke, then I'll be happy. Lots remains to be seen though, so I'm not counting chickens. Sunday Nell and I had a little adventure (Nell is always up for adventure)--to the long forgotton borough of Staten Island! Nell had been fixating on S.I. lately, and was tickled by the idea of going there to see Star Wars. Well, I'm always up for that, so off we went. First we brunched at the Chip Shop, Brooklyn's answer to England. Then we ferried across in the fog, passing by the ever-threatened Statue of Liberty. I thought it looked smaller than I remembered it. Upon landing, we hopped on the staggeringly underpopulated Staten Island Railroad for the 42-minute ride all the way down to the southernmost tippy-tip of S.I., and thus NYC. I had heard some unsubstantiated rumor that S.I. is populated with the most gangsters this side of the Sopranos, but who knows? It looked like a lot of well-manicured upscale suburban houses and lawns to us. We did take a stroll through some secluded body-dumping woods, though. After our walk through Tottenville, we took a bus up to a sketchy-looking mall to see Attack of the Clones. Through the previews I noticed that the film was shaky, kind of like someone was playing bongos on a wobbly table which held the projector. Sometimes this sort of thing gets ironed out when the feature starts, but as the Lucasfilm logo came up, it was still shaky. I went out and told the pimply-faced manager and he fixed it, though he had to stop the film in the middle of the Naboo ship landing at the beginning. The audience groaned, but I would have thought they would be glad they didn't have to sit through a shaky-cam movie--this ain't The Blair Witch Project, now. I don't have any great need to see Star Wars a hundred times in the theater, but I'd sure like to see it digitally again. The little pops and jumps and cigarette burns are starting to drive me nuts. After that it was near midnight. We took a bus back to the ferry terminal and though it was cold we stood on the deck to watch the night-time city emerge from the fog. I don't know what I'm doing here really--but to see those lights, the bridges, all that life, from the water is simply breathtaking. If I never accomplish anything of substance, at least I will know that I lived in this city for a year. That, my friends, is its own reward. posted by Ginger | 12:46 AM |
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