January 28, 2009
room for rent.
At the end of the day, the last thing I feel like doing is straightening up. As a result, there's a trail clothing from the door to the couch. In the morning, the same trail is replicated in reverse. From my bed to the bathroom, pajama bottoms and tanks are tossed. An anthropologist might infer that I'm changing my clothes as I walk. They would be correct.
I go to bed by 11pm during the week and generally prefer inaction to action between the hrs of 8pm-11pm. If you ask me to work out with you, I might. But only after excessive nudging in the direction of the gym. The whole time I will whimper and in the morning, I will probably point to the various areas of my derrière that ache. I'm charming like that.
On occasion, when especially bored, I'll knit something. Whenever said project is complete, think "Watch yo'self Martha! I'm coming for you and your domestic empire!" This is also my response to completing basic household tasks like cleaning, or cooking a meal with more than one ingredient.
Last week I was gearing up for a ski trip. Every night I'd come home with a new purchase. Gloves. A hat. A coat with fleece on the inside. And, every night I'd try on the entire ski outfit just to be sure that A) It was warm enough and B) I didn't look like a total idiot. One key element of the outfit was my new bib snowpants. Pants that were so poofy and outrageous, that each night's dress rehearsal was followed by two minutes of giggling.
Apart from any considerations of the person living within it, the apartment itself has its own personality. Spewing water from the walls and lighting itself on fire whenever it feels it hasn't been given enough attention. But as much as I mock it, it's mine. My first New York apartment. The first place I lived alone. The first neighborhood that I was able to claim as my own. A neighborhood that moves beyond my ability to describe it, except to say, it is lovely. It's home.
Andre, my maybe-future-roommate, knows all this and yet still seems willing to tolerate living together for the sake of lowering our collective expenses. Dude is clearly a saint. Several decisions have to be made before either of us commit definitively. We're laying down the ground rules, thinking about it, and discussing our concerns like real adults are supposed to. This, after all, is the guy with whom I share Saturday morning breakfasts so we can discuss our dating lives (or lack thereof). The guy who knows me well enough to know that Christmas presents in the form of concert tickets, are right up my alley. Therein lies the rub. I refuse to mess up a friendship that I rely heavily on.
Internal debates aside, I am already contemplating what kind of super-power-vacuum I might buy with the spare rent money. A vacuum that could suck the tar off of a street corner, or maybe a new computer with all the programs pre-loaded so I can tinker to my heart's content, and maybe, just maybe, snowpants that don't make my butt look like the Michelin Man's. The options really, are endless.
Aye mateys.
January 23, 2009
in a NY minute (woo-oo-oo everything changes)
It was 6:45am and already I was late.
The shower ran longer than usual, due to the upper portion of my legs which were in desperate need of some special attention. The night prior I'd glanced down and was a little horrified to realize that a winter's worth of neglect left a swath of hair on the back of my thighs. Hair that really, should only be seen on the legs of a lumberjack. Still, I thought I'd manage to break even. It was not meant to be. The list of things that I'd meant to take care of before leaving the apt. included removing my nail polish, putting on makeup, finding the receipt for a purchase I intended to return. Instead, I flew around grabbing my shoes and keys. Pulling the straightener through my hair. Settling for an outfit that only barely qualifies as such.
It seems like it's been this way since the year began. I need this weekend to slow down. For time to move at half-speed. Just long enough for me to catch my breath.
January 20, 2009
give me a moment to gloat

---------------NATIONAL DAY OF RENEWAL AND RECONCILIATION, 2009
- - - - - - -
BY THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
A PROCLAMATION
As I take the sacred oath of the highest office in the land, I am humbled by the responsibility placed upon my shoulders, renewed by the courage and decency of the American people, and fortified by my faith in an awesome God.
We are in the midst of a season of trial. Our Nation is being tested, and our people know great uncertainty. Yet the story of America is one of renewal in the face of adversity, reconciliation in a time of discord, and we know that there is a purpose for everything under heaven.
On this Inauguration Day, we are reminded that we are heirs to over two centuries of American democracy, and that this legacy is not simply a birthright -- it is a glorious burden. Now it falls to us to come together as a people to carry it forward once more.
So in the words of President Abraham Lincoln, let us remember that: "The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battlefield and patriot grave to every living heart and hearthstone all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature."
NOW, THEREFORE, I, BARACK OBAMA, President of the United States of America, by the authority vested in me by the Constitution and laws of the United States, do hereby proclaim January 20, 2009, a National Day of Renewal and Reconciliation, and call upon all of our citizens to serve one another and the common purpose of remaking this Nation for our new century.
IN WITNESS WHEREOF, I have hereunto set my hand this twentieth day of January, in the year of our Lord two thousand nine, and of the Independence of the United States of America the two hundred and thirty-third.
Also, further proof that DC's subways are nicer than our own.
The link and photo above were pulled from the 2009 Inauguration Flickr feed. It'll be interesting to see what gets loaded in the next day or two.

