My Weekend Obessesion

So last Wednesday began innocently enough. I went to work. Clocked in. Watered my plant. Moved the pencils around on my desk. Turned my lamp on. Turned my lamp off when I didn’t like the glare on my computer screen. Check my mail…etc. Everything was normal—until my lunch break. *Insert creepy music here*

Right before lunch, I was reading People Magazine (it’s my job—I have to get to know the competition…obviously) and there was this article on a movie they’re making from this book called Twilight. This isn’t the first I’d heard of the book or the storyline—in fact EVERYONE in my office has read it and talks about it all the time. But, it seemed ridiculous to me…so I stayed out of the Twilight mania fray. But something about the article made me curious. And I was sort of tired of not knowing what the hell my co-workers were talking about—what could possibly engender this crazed frenzy?

So lunch rolled around. I walked to Barnes and Noble. I bought the book.

Fast forward to Thursday—almost 800 pages later. With a haggard expression and dare I say—glint of insanity in my eyes, I buy the next book.

Friday. Jessica spends Thursday night with me after she misses her flight to Africa because of flight delays. If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t have seen the light of day this weekend. My body thanks you for the vitamin D, Jess… As soon as I drop her off at the airport the book comes out again. I read it all the way home. I continue reading until 3am.

Saturday. I didn’t have to go to work so I didn’t even get out of bed until around 2—reading of course. The only thing that got me out of bed? I finished the second 800 page book. The only thing that motivated me to take a shower, get dressed, and do my hair? I needed the next one. I didn’t realize until I was outside how perfect the day was. I couldn’t stomach going back to my apartment with the weather so fantastic—so I bought the next one and brought it to Central Park. The reading continued until the natural light began to fade and I started to get cold. I also realized I hadn’t eaten all day when my stomach loudly complained of my negligence. I went home and ate left over noodles from when Jess was here—still reading of course. I don’t remember falling asleep—but I woke up the next day with my face burried in my book.

Sunday. I stare at the blurry black ink—too close to my eyes to focus on. My muscles begin to complain from the lack of use in the last few days. I fleetingly think I should go to the gym. I usually go to yoga on Sunday mornings. But the words beckon. I can’t resist. I finish the third book by 4pm. There’s only one thing left to do. I get up. Shower. Do my hair. And walk to Barnes and Noble. For the last time.

I fall asleep around 2am…half way through the last 900 pages. It’s taking all the will power within me not to read the last 450 pages at my desk. Probably not the best idea since Mindy’s here and I actually do have work to do on the Emmy’s today. Sigh. Work. So inconvenient.

Sometimes I wish I had less of an obsessive personality. But then I remember my weekend and realize—that was just too damn fun.

I think I'll go...

Today I figured out something that will undoubtedly come in handy in the next few years I’m at TV Guide.

Nobody knows I’m here.

Now, this is both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because I can pretty much do whatever I want, whenever I want as long as I complete the small amount of responsibilities I’m given each day.

It’s a curse because most of the time I am unbelievably bored.

I don’t think I have ever been so up to date of celebrity gossip and fashion. I read every blog I can get my hands on and I even started really writing for this one.

Don’t get me wrong. I love my job when I have things to do. Most of the time it’s pretty cool stuff. But during the down time, sometimes I just feel invisible in my little cubicle (Actually, it’s more of a medium sized cubicle, I guess). I left for two hours today and no one in my department batted an eye. The only people who said anything were Juanita (an awesome black lady who knows EVERYTHING who sits on my right) and my two friends in the Sales department who sort of winked at me when I came in an hour late from my lunch break.

Now—for the reason of my uncharacteristically late lunch. I took the train down to Soho to apply at Anthropologie. It was the only time I could go—and Mindy is on vacation today—so I did it. And I get 40% off! And they like to work with “part-timers!” And I get 40% off!

Life is starting to get good again.

Taxi...pitches?

I realized today on my way to work that taxi horns are all in a minor key. Strange, no?

Earphones and the City

It’s 2:00 in the afternoon and the noise down on 42nd hasn’t stopped since 8:30 this morning.

You gotta love New York City.

It actually started yesterday before I left work. Noise—beyond that created when Miley Cyrus visited Bryant Park a few weeks ago—started to invade my warm cocoon of quietude up here on the 17th floor of the Tishman Speyer building around 4:00pm. Every few minutes the screaming would begin accompanied by a few moments of quiet. Then—AHHHHHHH!!!!!! Then quiet. Then—AHHHHHHHH!!!!!! It was incessant. I walked outside around 5:30 and there they all were…clad in Jonas Brothers t-shirts and ready to spend the night in the park to get the best seats. They were some crazy 13 year-olds. I didn’t even do that for NSYNC and I LOVED NSYNC.

So this morning I got to work and the screaming hadn’t stopped. And it didn’t stop until 10AM, when the sleep-deprived hormone-driven teenagers meandered home to fall asleep with their new “OMG!” moments to treasure. In my opinion, GMA needs to find a better—less professional—area to host the Jonas Brothers next time. I couldn’t hear myself think.

But—hey—who am I kidding? I liked the excuse to peer out the window and watch the concert myself. Those kids are pretty cute. Not worth sleeping with nature—but cute.

Then—when I thought all was safe and I could begin working on those expenses I have been dreading since yesterday—another hullabaloo began. This time the noise was less teenybopper love and more United States Government hate. The AHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! turned into more of a OHHHHHH!!!!! And instead of a few minutes of quiet and then screaming again it turned into a beat. It was like: dadadada (a second pause) DADA!!!!!
Over and over and over again.

It turned out it was a protest of our involvement in the Olympics. Apparently the Chinese haven’t been on the up and up with human rights. Especially with Tibet. Big surprise, huh?

That lasted for at least three hours. Three very long hours.

And then—quiet. Or so I thought.

And then the drums began. Bum budda bum budda bum bum bum. I still have no idea what this was for—perhaps a remnant of the Tibet protest? Or homeless bums? I guess I’ll never know for sure. What I do know is I lost two more hours of my life wondering when that cacophony would stop.

I guess the moral of this story—I need to buy better earphones. I hear Bose has a good pair…any suggestions?

Realizations

This past weekend was all about realizations. I realized just how long it will be before I’m laughing and dancing with my dearest friends again. I realized how much those friends mean to me. And most importantly, I realized what is most important in life.

Let me start by saying, the weekend surpassed any of my expectations. The venues were perfect. The dresses were perfect. The food was perfect. I guess the word “perfect” describes Tiffany and Aaron’s wedding…perfectly. It was gorgeous. She was gorgeous. She was so gorgeous I cried.

One of my favorite parts of the wedding was holding Tiffany’s train while we were walking to the chapel. She looked so ready for this next stage of her life and I found myself wondering if I will ever feel about a guy the same way she feels about Aaron. There were no “dating games” in their relationship. There was no waiting three days to call or feigned indifference (at least not when they were officially dating ☺ ). They were just soul achingly and heart wrenchingly in love. And watching Aaron look at Tiffany walk down that aisle—I have no doubt he will treasure and love her until his last breath. Witnessing that kind of love—that kind of devotion—that kind of raw purity in a relationship makes me wonder if it will ever come along for me. I have to believe it will. And until it does, I’m just going to be happy that couples like Aaron and Tiffany are around to remind me of what is possible when you focus on God and let him lead a relationship.

I also realized how much I really miss my friends from Hillsdale. Sitting around until 2am talking about the newest Vogue and other sundry girlie topics—I could almost transport myself back to the Whitley basement. I had so much fun; from our wild Bachelorette party to taking off our shoes and dancing to “Dancing Queen” at the reception—I think I laughed and cried more in two days than I have since graduation. And it was so hard to let go at the end of it all. Realizing we’re all in different places in our lives and things will never be the same is difficult. I almost want to go back in time and shake myself—why didn’t I appreciate these precious relationships more when they were right in front of me? I guess the Yellow Taxi song says it best. You really don’t appreciate things until they’re gone. And my days at Hillsdale are gone now. I’ll miss that place--and the people who made it live--so much.

Don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you got till it's gone
They paved paradise and put up a parkin' lot

A little confused...

Because I am THAT bored at work here's another post for today.

Yesterday I got flowers. One dozen red roses--and I’m not sure how I feel about this.

One of part of me is a little confused. We’ve only been on three dates. Isn’t one dozen long stemmed roses a little much for a relationship of a few weeks? Maybe it’s not. Maybe I’m reading too much into this (as I often do) but I don’t want him to think this is more than it really is. What does one dozen red roses mean? I love you? I hope not. I miss you? I guess that wouldn’t be too bad. I want more? Ha.

The other part of me is just happy to get one dozen long stemmed red roses. I love flowers. They look nice in my room. I like the smell.

I hate dating. It’s too complicated. I’m going to mail order a Russian husband and get this whole process over with.

Fun times ahead

Now for something a little less...narrative. For those of you who asked me about my last post—it was half true—half not so true. True—I did friend my middle school crush last week, I did feel weird the next morning, I did get an awkward message from him, and I have followed him into a bathroom in the past. What’s not true--my psyche is not fragile (most of the time) and I don’t hate Clive (although his keyboard IS falling apart). I was just bored at work and wanted to make the whole experience more interesting. Sorry if I confused you.

In other news--
Today I’m driving down to Maryland for Aaron and Tiffany’s wedding and i’m so excited to feel comfortable again.

I haven’t been comfortable in a while. A new environment, new friends, new job---all of these exciting—but stressful—experiences have been a constant for the last two months. I’m starting to get the hang of things but it will be really nice not to have to try to be friends with someone—and just be friends with people who really know me. I’m also excited for the wedding! From what I hear it’s going to be beautiful.

So all I have to do is get through today—get on a bus—and cruise my way to good friends and a good time.

Fun times ahead.