The Hurricane and the Low Pressure Front

As the rains have returned, so must I.

I return not to complain about my pruning fingers, my perpetually damp socks and my failing boots with the hole in the sole. I’m not going to write about damp leaves and slippery rocks keeping me from hiking this past weekend. Nor will I gripe about the hay, wet with disappointment, unsuitable to ride in through saturated pumpkin patches and drowning corn mazes. I will not curse the rain, damn the rain or even shout profanity toward the sky, even if I feel provoked. I will dutifully raise my umbrella and go about my day without uttering a “nasty weather we are having” in an elevator with a stranger. No I will not do any of these things.

I merely want to share with you a great big hello.

HELLO

Sticking it to the Man, One knee Sock at a Time

I wore knee socks to work, grey woolen knee socks. I didn’t wear hose. I didn’t put on stockings. I even left the tights at home. Woolen, grey knee socks cover my shins and wedge shoes my feet.

Why do I do this to myself? Why do I insist on drawing attention (incurring wrath) from the sub-committee on appropriate work attire?

I look forward to my concise, properly harsh, email regarding the dress code.

Monkeys and Elephants

I’m off to a 4 hour training.

If only I had been previously trained not to look bored during a 4 hour training.

I’m doomed: didn't get enough sleep on a school night doomed.

OH FOR THE LOVE OF RAIN...

I'm molding.

The Falling Water

Fall is here!

It brings with it the great rains. As I stare out a 40th floor window in Mid-Town New York I have to ask, where is the Ark? Water falls in buckets like the sky has been ripped open freeing its water collection. The sky has quite a collection.

Fall is my favorite season. It has been hard to truly enjoy the seasonable weather, the air’s new scent, apples, apples, pumpkins and leaves changing color. My Mother describes fall as the time when the trees dress up in their best formal wear in attempt to impress. I like that.

The Rolley Chair Circus

I'm bored.

Just Another Day

One more hour until early dismissal. This is one of the few things in adult life that is reminiscent of high school joys. In high school I was in the nerdy accelerated courses and was able to take a late arrival, off campus lunch and early dismissal in my senior year. (These were well earned, unlike my need to run from this Park Avenue office building as fast as my beaten up sneakers can move without disintegrating off my feet.)

In the summer I get to leave work at 3pm on Fridays (pending manager’s arrival.) Today I’m literally counting down the minutes and ducking and weaving my boss as he moves with purpose about the office. If I remain too long he will trap me under a pile to fax, file, set on fire and 3pm dismissal will seem nothing more than a fond memory. I’ve already gotten up get tea 4 times, gone to the rest room 5 times, and hung out in the mysteriously locked file room “searching for a file” for an uncomfortably long time.

Here he comes… got to run.

Boring Town, Population One

Wow has it really been two months since I posted anything? Have I really had nothing to say? I did sort of disappear into oblivion, choosing sleep over exciting week night and even weekend plans. Or maybe I haven’t posted because of the oppressive heat that has plagued New York for what feels like an eternity. I was just too hot, tired and dehydrated to type. I could have posted and posted “UGGGgggghh I’m so f-ing hot” for two months. Aren’t you glad I spared you?

I have had my hands full this summer (I can’t believe it’s coming to a close soon.) Unlike last year when the rhtl were taking in shows every night and finding ourselves at exclusive rock n’ roll after parties, I’ve been mopping up water from my busted Air Conditioner (that I refuse to turn off even though it produces a great lake on the floor when left on.) I’ve been traveling although I can’t think where, and doing lots of stuff I can’t remember. Obviously the summer months have proved to be a boring blur of I can’t remembers.

Here’s to an exciting fall.

NARNIA

I am re-reading the Chronicles of Narnia. Already through the Magician’s Nephew and halfway into The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe (my remembered favorite) I’ve been able to proceed with a youthful wide eye-ed optimism. I refuse to believe that tragedy shall befall our noble heroes. I am usually right.

There is something about following the adventures of children that delivers safely to your childhood room, under the covers, reading with a flashlight. It’s a safe journey with a bumpy return. As my days stress harder on my constitution, it is harder and harder to pull myself from Narnia to face the electric bill or choosing a primary care physician in my network. I want both feet firmly in my child hood, searching for magical doorways into glorious worlds.

This afternoon, I approached the file room door, the door that remains mysteriously locked, with a curious eye. I counted to three, turned the key, opened the door very slowly and found…stacks of files.

I didn’t feel silly; I was quite proud to give into my imagination, even if just for three seconds. No matter how old you get, you should have at least one foot firmly planted in your childhood.

Because We Love Them...

Haiku by co-worker addressed to me:

As the mighty Elm
So does your mighty butt grow
Even larger still

TGIF

This Friday brings great relief.
This week has labored on; it’s more odious attributes have only been exaggerated by my lack of sleep and affinity for the bottle. The days pressed on much like my co-workers comments to my appearance.

Cube neighbor: “you look tired.”
Me: “I am tired.”
Cube neighbor: “Why aren’t you sleeping?”
Me: “I’ve given it up.”
C.N.: “Really?”
Me: “No.”

I was a little cranky and short. (Some might say I’m always short standing a mere 5’11/2”, some being my Cube neighbor.)
Other comments to my form are as follows:

“Out late last night”
“Feeling ok?”
“Are you ok?”
“Do you take a Multivitamin? You should.”
“How many breakfasts is that?”
*“You, know I never realized how large your butt was; girl, you got junk in the trunk.”

*This last comment is not an exaggeration nor does it relate to me looking tired. It was by far my least favorite. I had to write it down so it would stop banging around in my head: bombarding and weakening self esteems foundations that have taken me a long time to construct.

TGIF

Haiku Part Two

It has recently been brought to my attention that Haiku's should mention nature.

Amended Blog Haiku:
Winter’s abrasion
It reminds me of my Blog
Cold barren wasteland

On a cheerier note, Pizza party!
We are having a pizza party at work (I don’t even work in a grade school.) The powers that be are buying the employees pizza and calling it a party “for no good reason”. Just the idea of free Pizza is getting me through book binding, faxing and filing with a smile.

“Pizza party” it reminds me of the infamous “Cathy Dean” sleepovers in grade school. It was a stereotypical girls gathering where bras are frozen and Dad’s shaving cream ends up in someone’s hair. You couldn’t fall asleep lest you wanted to wake up covered in sticky products or worse drawn on with markers. We would leave her house the next morning, sleep deprived, cranky, hating our “best friends” and generally mad at the world. But, a “Cathy Dean” party was an honor you couldn’t refuse. Kids are stupid.

Haiku

It has been too long

The words have no more meaning

Unsucessful Blog

Blast from the Past

I enjoy reading past emails I've sent.

Below please find an email I sent on June 2, 2004:

I am very red in the face.
Surprisingly, the ruddy glow is not a result of behavior, comments or clothing, but a little slap in the forehead from the sun. The sun and I have a very tumultuous relationship. And today, the sun has left me with a painful reminder that our time together is best spent apart. I do not color well.

How are you?

I hope you were able to ease back into the working days. I’m having a difficult time getting things accomplished which is feeding the beastly pile lurching in my inbox.

Things are ok. I’m ok. I am far less anxious. Another day has past which is another day closer to a stress free world.

We had an excellent rehearsal last night. I have super power, get up and go happy time mix that Dana burned for me. See, things just keep getting better.

Contrary to my white knuckled exit, I had great time with you. I look forward to time spent without preoccupation.

XO
Jaime

I am dreaming of damp grass and the spiteful sun.

One year ago, I must have been having issues with clothing, talking to people and behaving inappropriately on damp grass in the sun? 2004 Jaime enjoyed music much like 2005 Jaime. Although, 2004 Jaime probably used music as an escape from stress related anxiety and white knuckled preoccutions. It sounds like I had fun with others but readily fled social situations in grand exits. My, how far I've come.

Running Like a Mad (Wo) Man

It has been really lovely out. I had thought I should get to the park and move around some in the interest of exercising. I wanted to roller skate, but was too intimated to do it alone. The idea of falling and not having anyone hear my nervous laughter was too much to bear.

It’s Wednesday, the mid point to a busy week. Sleepiness has wrapped my brain in a sweater. It’s hard fighting the good fight: keeping my head of my desk. My desk, mind you, is piled high with papers and dust; I just squeaked out the last bit of pressured air clearing crumbs from my keyboard. So, my head will have a soft but dreadful landing.

The Debutantes play Southpaw tonight at 9pm. (news to keep your head upright)

A Letter to my Parents, From my Work

Dear Mr.& Mrs. Fallon:

We are sorry to inform you of our recent filing accident. Jaime Fallon has been pinned under filing F-J since 12:00 p.m. this afternoon; ironically, that is where we would have filed her had she been a hanging folder. We will keep you apprised of any new developments.

Best regards,
RREEF

Epiphany

With the release of a new NIN album, I've read many post, newly drug and alcohol free Trent Reznor interview articles exposing his mental state while writing previous albums. A great epiphany: Trent Reznor was in a dark place.

You think?

PS. His last album was called Downward Spiral. I'm just saying...

Confession: I think Trent Reznor is hot with his haircut. See below.

AA Admin

It's Administrative professionals' Day. As I eat my complimentary tuna sandwich I think, God, I could really use a Diet Coke.

I'm going to see Stars tonight at Bowery and the Debutantes booked a show at Southpaw. I could still go for that Diet Coke.

Bloc Party Was Tremendous!

Rarely have I seen a crowd so eager for a band, and a band so eager for the crowd.

I went to see Bloc Party on Friday, the second night and proudly proclaimed “better” night by everyone in the small audible circle around me. Mind you, the circle was small and rubbing up against me for most of the night.

The crowd was lit up, on fire even and dancing with such charged fury that the scene almost erupted into a mosh pit, reminiscent of shows I attended in H.S. in an abandoned warehouse or Veterans’ Hall. People were moved into excitable trances shaking, thrusting and jumping. There were even reports of a gentleman pleasuring himself in front of the stage. I learned through a very Seinfeldian exchange with a female stranger that she dropped back into the crowd after a man “took it out. Yes, it, out.” I assume he was just a bit more excited than the rest of us.

Our attention was quickly redirected back towards the band. Between each song, they connected with the crowd with healthy doses of British Charm. It seemed as though they were apologizing for their professional, flawless, rock star personas while playing through their humbling witty banter. It was refreshing to see a technically proficient band having the time of their lives, shining like a bright light. Many bands of late have taken themselves much too seriously, portraying an almost sullen, apathetic presence on stage. Bloc party and the crowd were feeding off each other. Everyone was satisfied, (without having to “take it out,” well, with one exception.)

*Cough * Cough

The only thing in my inbox is a box of surplus Angel Soft (standard office issue) tissue.

I’m sick again.

Can you believe it?

I can’t.