12.31.2005
warp
my head is spinning from the pace at which things are changing. this is gonna take some getting used to.
shampube would be a good name for a netheregion shampoo.
my head is spinning from the pace at which things are changing. this is gonna take some getting used to.
shampube would be a good name for a netheregion shampoo.
12.28.2005
12.23.2005
retarded title removed
i got called into a meeting by my manager at 3. she wanted to gather the team and say a few words with the holidays coming up. she began by thanking us all for making it to work in spite of the transit strike. awkward "you're welcome's" were muttered in return. then she announced that a coworker had been promoted to fill the vacant supervisor position. the promotion was so well deserved that we all clapped and yipped it up a bit (and only a bit, of course). she followed by telling us what we all knew before she did - another one of us was leaving. the unusually high turnover rate was unfortunate, she said, but she felt that we would be able to pull through it with hard work and maybe a couple more bodies. i looked her straight in the eye and nodded my resolve to be part of such a glorious rise from the ashes.
at 4:30 i left my desk and took the elevator to the lobby. my building has a 13th floor (it's mine) but no 14th floor. that makes no sense to me. as i exited the building, i expected to see an aig shuttle idling at the curb. i didn't. the line waiting for a shuttle? that i did see and got on its end. 5 minutes later i zippered my coat. 2 minutes later, i buttoned it. 10 minutes after that, i grabbed my hat from my bag and on it went. a shuttle arrived at 5 and i took my seat towards the back as always.
a 45ish man eventually sat next to me and took forever between choosing the seat and actually sitting in it. i hate that. i retrieved my ipod and decided that i should listen to the first strokes cd. new york seemed all around me and the strokes almost = new york and it's cheesy but it felt like something so whatever.
i could feel myself fading by song 5 and by song 9 i was out. a number of minutes later i woke up with silent headphones in my ears and discovered that mr. 45ish reads graphic novels. some weird kinda batman shit. thought of marto.
the bus turned left onto 8th avenue 5 minutes before 6 and we saw that we were at 17th street. the congestion was unbelieveable. not knowing how long it would take for us to reach the drop spot, a number of us left the bus while we were in traffic (isn't that illegal) at 21st street. walking the rest of the way to penn station was amazing. being by myself in that area of new york city at night during the holidays felt really good for some reason.
i got called into a meeting by my manager at 3. she wanted to gather the team and say a few words with the holidays coming up. she began by thanking us all for making it to work in spite of the transit strike. awkward "you're welcome's" were muttered in return. then she announced that a coworker had been promoted to fill the vacant supervisor position. the promotion was so well deserved that we all clapped and yipped it up a bit (and only a bit, of course). she followed by telling us what we all knew before she did - another one of us was leaving. the unusually high turnover rate was unfortunate, she said, but she felt that we would be able to pull through it with hard work and maybe a couple more bodies. i looked her straight in the eye and nodded my resolve to be part of such a glorious rise from the ashes.
at 4:30 i left my desk and took the elevator to the lobby. my building has a 13th floor (it's mine) but no 14th floor. that makes no sense to me. as i exited the building, i expected to see an aig shuttle idling at the curb. i didn't. the line waiting for a shuttle? that i did see and got on its end. 5 minutes later i zippered my coat. 2 minutes later, i buttoned it. 10 minutes after that, i grabbed my hat from my bag and on it went. a shuttle arrived at 5 and i took my seat towards the back as always.
a 45ish man eventually sat next to me and took forever between choosing the seat and actually sitting in it. i hate that. i retrieved my ipod and decided that i should listen to the first strokes cd. new york seemed all around me and the strokes almost = new york and it's cheesy but it felt like something so whatever.
i could feel myself fading by song 5 and by song 9 i was out. a number of minutes later i woke up with silent headphones in my ears and discovered that mr. 45ish reads graphic novels. some weird kinda batman shit. thought of marto.
the bus turned left onto 8th avenue 5 minutes before 6 and we saw that we were at 17th street. the congestion was unbelieveable. not knowing how long it would take for us to reach the drop spot, a number of us left the bus while we were in traffic (isn't that illegal) at 21st street. walking the rest of the way to penn station was amazing. being by myself in that area of new york city at night during the holidays felt really good for some reason.
12.21.2005
rsl
11/29/2005
dawn is very friendly. she likes people. you can tell. however, her social approach is a little bit creepy. she stares at you too long during lulls in the conversations she starts. my guess would be that she's a rare breed - a socially awkward person who loves to socialize. as you might imagine, i freak out when she tries to talk to me, a person with no social skills whatsoever.
we were in the conference room at the end of today to say good-bye to rohan. there is a table in there but the well-wishers outnumbered the chairs. i was one of the chaired. dawn was not. a box of cookies rested on the table in front of me. dawn wanted some. as she stood behind me, all i could think was "please don't talk to me. please don't talk to me."
"you remind me of someone. someone famous."
"uh-oh."
"yeah...from a movie i saw recently."
"really?"
she paused. it was clear that she was racking her brain.
"DEAD POET'S SOCIETY!"
"ahhh, yes. i've heard that before."
"has anyone ever told you that?"
did i mention dawn has amazing listening skills?
"yup."
"do know which person i mean?"
"i think so."
"you know... the one who commits suicide at the end."
she smiled. i faked one. the irony, lost on her, almost choked me.
12/20/2005
i feel more like a new yorker now after yesterday. standing ass to elbow with a couple thousand real new yorkers outside of penn station for 100 minutes last night might have something to do with that. here's a conversation that killed a good 1/50th of those 100 minutes.
a smiley, middle-aged, curly-haired lady with glasses ended up squished next to me for a bit. she smiled at me (that's what smiley ladies do), so i smiled back and said
"this is ridiculous, isn't it?"
"it sure is. they're not even telling us anything."
"i know. i can't believe it."
"me neither...hey, do you ever watch that show 'house?' he's a doctor. doctor house."
"yes."
"do you know his friend there?"
i wasn't exactly sure who she meant but i said "yes" anyway.
"the one in oncology?"
i still wasn't sure who she meant but i figured i've watched enough of the show to figure it out on the fly. i said "yes" again.
"you look like him."
it was then that i knew exactly who she meant. a half-smile/half-laugh escaped me.
"i've been told that before."
"really? because i've been looking at you for the past 20 minutes trying to figure out who you reminded me of."
"that's funny."
"you could be his brother or something."
"you think so?"
"yeah, it's uncanny."
11/29/2005
dawn is very friendly. she likes people. you can tell. however, her social approach is a little bit creepy. she stares at you too long during lulls in the conversations she starts. my guess would be that she's a rare breed - a socially awkward person who loves to socialize. as you might imagine, i freak out when she tries to talk to me, a person with no social skills whatsoever.
we were in the conference room at the end of today to say good-bye to rohan. there is a table in there but the well-wishers outnumbered the chairs. i was one of the chaired. dawn was not. a box of cookies rested on the table in front of me. dawn wanted some. as she stood behind me, all i could think was "please don't talk to me. please don't talk to me."
"you remind me of someone. someone famous."
"uh-oh."
"yeah...from a movie i saw recently."
"really?"
she paused. it was clear that she was racking her brain.
"DEAD POET'S SOCIETY!"
"ahhh, yes. i've heard that before."
"has anyone ever told you that?"
did i mention dawn has amazing listening skills?
"yup."
"do know which person i mean?"
"i think so."
"you know... the one who commits suicide at the end."
she smiled. i faked one. the irony, lost on her, almost choked me.
12/20/2005
i feel more like a new yorker now after yesterday. standing ass to elbow with a couple thousand real new yorkers outside of penn station for 100 minutes last night might have something to do with that. here's a conversation that killed a good 1/50th of those 100 minutes.
a smiley, middle-aged, curly-haired lady with glasses ended up squished next to me for a bit. she smiled at me (that's what smiley ladies do), so i smiled back and said
"this is ridiculous, isn't it?"
"it sure is. they're not even telling us anything."
"i know. i can't believe it."
"me neither...hey, do you ever watch that show 'house?' he's a doctor. doctor house."
"yes."
"do you know his friend there?"
i wasn't exactly sure who she meant but i said "yes" anyway.
"the one in oncology?"
i still wasn't sure who she meant but i figured i've watched enough of the show to figure it out on the fly. i said "yes" again.
"you look like him."
it was then that i knew exactly who she meant. a half-smile/half-laugh escaped me.
"i've been told that before."
"really? because i've been looking at you for the past 20 minutes trying to figure out who you reminded me of."
"that's funny."
"you could be his brother or something."
"you think so?"
"yeah, it's uncanny."
12.12.2005
here.
