Saturday, September 29, 2001

Wellllll....last night was quite interesting.I wasn't expecting to go out, but when Des called saying Carolyn, Kara and Melissa were getting together for a girls night, I figured 'what the hell'? So, Des and I arrive at Echoes, this really strange wannabe european bar in little old Red Bank and the girls are there already, and quite wide-eyed. "Guess what!" they hiss when we arrive, "Bon Jovi is here!" Now, this place isn't exactly big, and there, in the corner with a bunch of people is Jon Bon. I've never had a celebrity siting in RB, but I guess since he lives nearby it shouldn't be that surprising. At one point, Kara went to the bathroom, and Des and I noticed Jon head over to the men's room. Des decides to start the rumor that Kara and Bon Jovi went to the bathroom together. Anyway, it turns out he was doing a benefit at the Count Basie Theater, which is right up the street. He and his band o' friends seemed really laid back and no one bothered them. Very interesting experience.

We then headed to a Sea Bright bar and met up with Greg and Kootz, which was nice. The Blue Hens basically took over the upstairs part of the bar. Just a preview of Homecoming, which should be interesting.

In other celebrity news...Driving down Navesink River Rd. today, it was noted that Mr. Bon Jovi has a huge American flag hanging from one of his castle's windows, and Derek Jeter's gargantuan, semi-gaudy, um, home, is near completion. To think, no one more exciting than Geraldo used to live in the neighborhood.

Wednesday, September 26, 2001

That's it. I'm moving to Canada. Free health care, free education and Degrassi High reruns. Those Canucks don't know how good they have it!

Tuesday, September 25, 2001

Well, I've officially been at the job one whole year today. Whoopee.
My hair is no longer glowing in the dark, and seems like a normal shade of blond. No one has commented on it, so it's safe to say I imagined it was worse than I thought.
I had to buy Dr. Scholl's insoles today for my rotten Bass shoes. I feel like such an old fart.

Monday, September 24, 2001

I went crabbing in the Manasquan yesterday and came up with a Northern Puffer in one of my traps, which is just a Blowfish It was quite amusing to look at.

Found myself whistling the other day for the first time in a long time. I guess that means I'm getting back to normal. I was also rooting against the Mets, listening to 80s music (but not too peppy stuff) and getting peeved at bad drivers again.

Friday, September 21, 2001

So, I got the petition for peace fowarded to me yesterday and all I could think was 'Sorry, no can do'. I am the least violent, non war-loving person I know. Before the attacks, I got into a debate with my mom over the merits of war after watching the first episode of "Band of Brothers". I basically wrote war off as an ego thing, that it killed innocent people. Well, 2 days later, there I was in my own office in complete fear because...someone with a big ego killed innocent people. People died just because they showed up for work. People died trying to help those who were unsuspecting of their death that day. People died on planes in the most horrific way possible. And I'm just supposed to sit here on my hands, throwing flowers at these terrorist assholes? I think not. I'm not for going after innocent people -- I think our intelligence knows enough to go for the correct areas. But if we do nothing, let these people get away with what they've done, we'll just have to deal with again, and I sure as hell don't want to live through anything like I did last Tuesday again. It's bad enough I'm afraid of the dark like I'm 4 years old again, and that I don't sleep well. Those asswipes took something away from each and every one of us. Some more than others in the form of a loved one. We have to live in fear of our plane being hijacked, our offices being bombed? We've defended other countries against this sort of thing and we're not supposed to be standing up for our own? Close to 7000 people are presumed dead in just one day of innocent killing. And I'm supposed to be singing "Give peace a chance"?

Thursday, September 20, 2001

I really, really, really don't get why people are in such mean, nasty moods lately. I swear, everyone on the street, trains, offices, etc. seem like they're embedded in a BAD ass mood. I know they're stressed and one of the symptoms of post traumatic disorder is anger, but not petty, 'You're in my way' anger. When I get my angry moments, I know its root and even then I'm not mean to people I know, let alone complete strangers. Can't people be happy that they're alive, and be angry inside, rather than making everyone else feel like shit? Or at least apologize when they slam into you on the street, rather than gripe at you? We're all in this together, right?

Wednesday, September 19, 2001

Ok, now I'm really dumbfounded by the list of 150 songs that radio stations shouldn't play in this time of tragedy. Check out The NY Times if you haven't heard about this very strange idea. Some songs I get. But "Peace Train"? "Imagine"? "What a Wonderful World"? What the hell? Yes, we need to be sensitive, but just WHAT is the matter with these songs? Frankly, I find WPLJ's eerie version of "A New York Minute", complete with sound bites of frightened people after the attacks a lot more disturbing than "On Broadway".

Tuesday, September 18, 2001

My parents' friends came over the other night while Laura T. and I were gawking at WTC pictures of us from our senior year in high school. The conversation drifted to office politics, and their friend Jim (whose wife, Pat I've known since I was born) said something very interesting. He thinks our generation apologizes too much, that we're too nice sometimes and the office predators know this. He thinks we should go into a room of people with the attitude of 'You're all assholes, and I know it.' Well said.
Today I am sad. My friend Katie is moving back to Illinois next week, the attacks on NY being a big catalyst in her wanting to go. I haven't seen her since I moved back to NJ, but she's a very nice person who will be sorely missed. At least if I visit her I'll get farther west than Kentucky. I'm also confused about the job situation. My cousin called last night, and he's been laid off since August. I can't go without health insurance for that long, but I'm REALLY hating copy editing. And I have no clue what I would want to do, otherwise.

I've been talking to the Empire State Building. No, I'm not losing it. In the morning, when I walk past it I say 'Hello, old friend. Glad to see you.' in my head. I then will it to stay standing. It doesn't answer back, but it's still there.

Monday, September 17, 2001

Today I am angry. Not with the idea of living in fear or anything like that, but with the selfish employers of New York City. When Guiliani said we needed to get start living again, I don't think he meant that employers should threaten their employees with being fired if they didn't show up for work last Friday. This happened to a friend of mine (who went to work on Thursday and thought of taking Friday off) who works in the fashion industry. All of the company got called up and told that, and when they did show up, the dude who called them left at 10 A.M. that morning, while everyone else had to hang around till 1. Gimmmee an f'ing break! In my own company, a co-worker who was too scared to come in on Thursday got a verbal bashing behind his back by the catty people who work here. I defended him as best I could since I was in no mood to be at work and wondered what the hell I was doing at a soap opera magazine with 90 bomb threats going on around me. No one should've gone back until today.

Everyone needs to 'get past this' at their own pace. I am so sick of people just assuming we should all be feeling great and rip-roaring to work just because they feel the need to move on. Did they not see what the rest of us saw? Jesus Christ. Some people have no clue.

Wednesday, September 12, 2001

I am so grateful right now. Grateful that even though I got home at 9 p.m., I am lucky to be here. That I have big blisters on my feet from walking around trip of 70 blocks from the Upper East Side to Penn. Station don't matter. Grateful that I have friends who were willing to take me in last night, and that those friends are still alive. I'm very grateful that I was walking near the Empire State Building when I heard the first plane, and not the Twin Towers. I'm grappling the fact that I actually saw a Path train bound for the World Trade Center around 8:30 yesterday while I made my way to midtown and thought 'Wow, working Downtown must be so cool'. I'm sad for all those people who were on my train yesterday who changed at Newark to take the Path down there. I hope they are all OK. I am sad and disturbed that one of my favorite pieces of the NY skyline is gone. I saw it everytime I've gone to NY to see family, or from a clear day at Sandy Hook. I saw a rainbow over it 4 years ago after a violent storm and have yet to see a cooler image. I have pictures of my high school friends and I at the top of one of the towers our senior year. I have pictures from my senior year in college during the Yankee parade, when my friends and I laid underneath it to take pictures, a man and his son next to us doing the same thing, and when the man asked his son what he thought of the north tower, the kid replied 'It's big!'

It might be overreacting, but I don't feel safe in the city anymore. I never gave it a second thought until yesterday. The idea of pickpockets never bothered me, but the idea of a sick asshole trying to take my life to prove a point makes me sick. I know we're all supposed to rally back and show them what we're made of, but frankly, they did the same thing in 1993, and I remember that. That everyone on the street froze yesterday whenever a military plane went over is beyond any emotional explanation. That my friend Hollis saw the second plane smash into the front of the building from her office (my old office, where we all used to know how bad the weather was if we couldn't see the top of the Towers), and that she is freaked by it makes me angry. That my friend Des is in Florida and is worried about flying home, and that my friend Dexter has to cancel a trip to California because of this imposed fear on us makes me pissed off. That we've all had some confidence and optimism taken away from us, and that many of us are just plain scared makes me irate. And that people had to die for this and in such a horrific way makes me ill.

None of us will ever be the same, and that's not some over-dramatic sentiment. When you realize your life may be, (and was VERY close to being) in danger, that an entire strong city is vulnerable, you can't go back.

Tuesday, September 11, 2001

I'm sitting here in complete shock as the city of New York is in utter chaos. Actually, it's a controlled chaos, so i'm a bit relieved, but when you feel safer in your office building than on the street, you know it's a bad day. I just hope i don't know anyone who was in the World Trade Center. I want to be in NJ.

Sunday, September 09, 2001

Well, the trip to Montauk made me realize something -- I pity those who are actual LI residents who take the Long Island Rail Road to and from Montauk. Their WEBS are absolutely snooty as hell!@#! On the way on Friday, Hollis and I moved to the upper deck of the train after the first Hamptons stop (there are so many, and all so snotty, their names all blend together). The car was almost empty, except for the two rich loudmouths having a conversation though sitting kind of far apart. The 53-year-old woman (from a seven sisters school) looked rich. It amazes me how you can just tell someone is wealthy, and therefore brain-dead. Anyway, she's telling this 62-year-old, badly-dressed, Princeton-educated lawyer named Harry (it was very hard NOT to hear their nauseating conversation) about her boyfriend who doesn't seem to want to marry her. Harry seemed to think she should dump the guy (read: shack up with HIM) and kept referring to his "current wife" whom he doesn't really like, except she has "flair". He also had internet access on his cellphone and wondered aloud "I don't know how people live without this". THEN, the kicker -- (aside from snooty skirts announcing "I LOVE to go to Yankee games". Gag me. She probably sits behind the dugout with a beer and thinks she's the coolest thing, then leaves in the seventh inning.) the woman tries to quietly say (which was more just below a shout) that she isn't comfortable talking to anyone who isn't "Ivy League". She seemed to think she and Harry were able to talk because they had "the same sensibilities". Hollis and I (who were sitting across from each other, and each of us still heard their entire conversation) just looked at each other in horror. We thought this stuff only existed in stereotypes. Well, Harry gets off at another forgettable Hamptons stop and Seven Sister from hell gets up from her seat and actually watches him get into his car (a pickup truck. huh?). Hollis and I had to keep from laughing from her obviousness. She then strolls over to us and asks "Do either of you have a cellphone?" which is rich-speak for "Gimmee!". We're too nice to say she can't use ours, so I (UD backpack on my lap, which must've made her start shaking in her Pradas because she was dealing with a pauper.) hand over mine, which doesn't get a signal, and neither does Hollis'. She gets all huffy and goes back to her seat. I wanted to say it was because it didn't have the internet or because we were, gasp, state-school educated!

Montauk was wonderful, and full of good-looking guys. But if they were alnything like the train shitheads, screw 'em.

The ride home was also a case of the wealthy being spoiled and never told "NO!" At one of the Hamptons stops, a man and his 6-year-old boy and 2-year-old girl get on and look to want to sit behind me (Hollis is across from me again). The 6-year-old, Joshua, starts talking like a whiny 45-year-old and says he wants to sit alone, infront of them. Well, rather than say "No, son, the world doesn't revolve around you", Rich Prick asks me if I could move! Rather than hear the whining, I move. Then I hear bits of conversation like "Look kids, those are the polo grounds." and then when Dad moved to pay some attention to Joshie, Sis gets all whiny. Brat son then whines back "Lily, I'm in the middle of a conversation with Daddy". Both kids spoke exqusite English, but were as loud and antsy as hell. Neither were disciplined by Daddy Warbucks, but he took them on a walk just before we stopped in Speonk. I could smell trouble. More people were going to get on and Joshie hadn't left stuff in his seat. So, when 2 Spanish-speaking men take his vacant seat, and the selfish family gets back, Lily says "You are sitting in my brother's seat!" and Josh starts in with the whine to win all whines about his seat getting taken. Dad actually gets some sense and tells him to sit next to the "nice lady" (Hollis), but Posh-Josh won't hear of it. Hollis finally has enough of the crocodile tears and moves, the Spanish men take her seat, and Whiny gets "his" seat back. 4 people had to move for this kid just because dad doesn't know how to say "no". If I EVER become that selfish in my, I can never be. I wasn't brought up that way. The rich SUCK!!!!!
When we arrived in Bayshore, we saw a town bus in the parking lot (among people of color, which was sorely lacking from the prior 24 hours) and Hollis had the best line
"We're back in good society -- Buses! Pontiacs!" Nuff said.

Off to watch Band of Brothers now. Hope it lives up to expectations!

Thursday, September 06, 2001

Hoboken's landlords obviously haven't gotten the news that the economy is doing poorly. Especially when you see a studio going for $1875. I don't care if it's a doorman building -- one small space isn't worth half that!

Wednesday, September 05, 2001

Feeling remeniscent about being back in college A LOT lately. Damn,that really was a good time. Must have something to do with the job. More crapola to deal with today.Same shit, different day, as they say. Oh well. At least I'm going to Montauk with Hollis (and possibly her boyfriend) this weekend. Coworkers are listening to some soap star singing Broadway tunes right now, and it sounds pretty tacky. Man do I love Wednesdays.

Tuesday, September 04, 2001

With all the drama that goes on in the lives of myself and my friends, everyone will now be known collectively as "The Young and the Restless".
Why, oh why do I hate writing news stories? Oh yeah, just because.
Mums and Dadums are going away next week, barring Hurricane Erin doesn't slam up the east coast. Though, that would mean a day off from work...anyway, maybe I'll have the Gatsby-esque party Hollis suggested the last time my parents left the Shadow Lake Castle for a bit. Complete with the tents, gamblers and a green light on the front lawn.

Monday, September 03, 2001

I hate it when I e-mail people and they don't answer back. Especially when you're trying to contact someone you haven't talked to in awhile. It makes you wonder: Are they mad at me? Did their address change? Are they on vacation? or worse yet: Maybe they just don't want anything to do with you anymore. E-mail definitely can make one paranoid.

Sunday, September 02, 2001

I'm feeling the heavy let-down of dissapointment at the moment. Mike Mussina comes within 1 strike of a perfect game against the Red Sox, and Carl Everett gets a base hit. Sigh. I suppose it would be asking for too much considering there have been 2 no-hitters and 2 perfect games for the Yanks in the past 10 years. And 4 World Series. Enough delights to last a lifetime. I'll try to be content, especially since the Yanks swept the Sox. Hee Hee.
By the way, the rude people were out in full effect today. Every store i walked into behind someone, the door was left to slam on me. And on the road -- forget it. Today it was fat people in SUVs ( a woman wagging her finger at me and laying on her horn when she thought i was going to jump out infront of her to make a left hand turn. I was really inching forward to see past the SUV on my right, not trying to screech into oncoming traffic and take my life just to piss off the bitch in SUV numero uno) and an impatient asshole in a Chevy Monte Carlo who wouldn't let me merge, rode on my ass when he finally let me in, then sped past me at the first chance. He got stuck behind some really slow drivers after that and it delighted me to no end. There is justice in this world.

Saturday, September 01, 2001

Well, my Saturday evening was kind of shot because of the 7-10:30 p.m. rehearsal dinner we had to attend. It was kind of cool, though, because i got to meet some relatives I never knew existed. And they were able to fill in some holes with the whole Italian geneology thing. But no mention of the mafia was made.
I GOT MY FIRST REJECTION LETTER! woo-hoo! The best part about it (aside from the 'Dear Writer," and "we apologize that we cannot respond in a more personal matter") was that it looked like the two chapters i sent were never even read. This could be the case since I sent it out Tuesday and got it back today. All right! I'm officially a struggling author!
I also got my government check today, thanks to President Dubya. What will my 300 go on? Hmm. Since they're so up on us spending it to improve the economy, maybe I'll throw it in the bank to save. If the economy sucks, rents will go down and I'll be able to afford Hoboken!