Yes, I’m still reading “Les Miserables” in French but I am getting very close to the end. It’s been quite a nice journey so far. I expect that I will be very sad when I am done too. One of the aspects of the novel that I’ve enjoyed immensely are the descriptions of some of the secondary characters.
Hugo does an amazing job with characterization in general (and a bunch of other techniques too) but he’s particularly plucked at my heart with his penchant for plucky descriptions of two secondary characters. It got me wondering what was the point of having these two characters in the novel in the first place.
There was a basic philosophy to the novel where he would treat the degradation of man by the proletariat, the atrophy of infants by night and the decline of women due to hunger so I understand that these two characters who were children contributed to that purpose. The strange thing is that both of these characters seem unaffected by the night. They seem to do just fine by day and by night even if they are poor. They get by.
But there is more to them that just that. They are characters that we root for and we want them to come out on top. They do the right thing without probably even being aware that it’s the right thing. They also show up their parents by being beacons of goodness, while their parents frankly suck.
I suppose that I don’t really need to have an answer to why they are in the novel. I like them a lot and wish there was more of them throughout the novel. But I believe that if they appeared more often, they might annoy me. So yet again Mr. Hugo knows how to pace himself and his story to make it pleasant for the reader.
Friday, March 30, 2012
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Go, Diego, Go!
A few weeks ago I went to the Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) with my friend Marni, who was visiting for the weekend. I haven’t been to the MoMA in a very long time – probably back in the 90s when they had a very famous Matisse exhibit.
In the years between the museum has undergone a renovation and I haven’t been to the newly refurbished building. It is still an impressive place; there is a courtyard with some sculptures around a fountain that I wasn’t able to see but which will be a reason to return.
The reason we went was to see the Diego Rivera Murals Exhibit. I have to admit that I was not much of a Rivera fan before going. Why you ask? Well, when it comes to muralists, I’ve always had a preference for the Renaissance Italians. I also wasn’t too keen on his relationship with Frida Kahlo. I preferred Frida’s style and works much more than his.
The exhibit showcased a number of his moveable murals and they were quite interesting. There were some sparkly pieces in each of the murals which showed his use of concrete in making the murals. A couple of the items on display were piece he made with NYC in the 20s and 30s as his inspiration. Then there were others that used Mexican history as their muse. There were also a number of his sketches from his time in Moscow.
It was a small but very interesting exposition. I can say I admire Rivera’s work more even if I still don’t like him as a womanizer. The display will be ending soon but I highly recommend any chance to get to the museum to see the wonderful art that is on display. I think Diego’s works are worth a viewing.
In the years between the museum has undergone a renovation and I haven’t been to the newly refurbished building. It is still an impressive place; there is a courtyard with some sculptures around a fountain that I wasn’t able to see but which will be a reason to return.
The reason we went was to see the Diego Rivera Murals Exhibit. I have to admit that I was not much of a Rivera fan before going. Why you ask? Well, when it comes to muralists, I’ve always had a preference for the Renaissance Italians. I also wasn’t too keen on his relationship with Frida Kahlo. I preferred Frida’s style and works much more than his.
The exhibit showcased a number of his moveable murals and they were quite interesting. There were some sparkly pieces in each of the murals which showed his use of concrete in making the murals. A couple of the items on display were piece he made with NYC in the 20s and 30s as his inspiration. Then there were others that used Mexican history as their muse. There were also a number of his sketches from his time in Moscow.
It was a small but very interesting exposition. I can say I admire Rivera’s work more even if I still don’t like him as a womanizer. The display will be ending soon but I highly recommend any chance to get to the museum to see the wonderful art that is on display. I think Diego’s works are worth a viewing.
Mystery Solved
A month ago I received a lovely package of Godiva chocolates. I read the card attached and it said ‘we are sorry for your loss”. The note also made mention of my blog and how I had referred to ‘my favorite things’ – Godiva chocolates being one of them. However the card was not signed so I didn’t know who to thank.
I began to ponder who could have sent such a thoughtful gift and who would make mention of my blog. Now I know only 3 -4 people read my blog and I had already received condolences from them. So who else could it have come from? And the pronoun ‘we’ confounded me as well.
While I contemplated this for days, I began to ask around to see if anyone would confess. I gave much consideration to the thought that my book club could have been the culprits. But they most certainly would have signed the card. What if they did sign the card but the place sending the package didn’t include that? Completely possible.
I thought about posting a thank you on Facebook or sending a random email out to people to see but then I would have looked like a fruitcake. I asked my husband for advice and he said that someone will eventually ask if I had received the chocolates and that’s how I would know.
So last week at book club, one of my friends asked if I received a box of chocolates. And finally the mystery was solved! I told them about how the card didn’t come with a signature so I didn’t know who to thank. I proceeded to tell them how the messenger did look very sketchy and how my dogs barked at him for a while even after I told them to calm down.
It was such a thoughtful and sincere gesture and so greatly appreciated. The whole situation was quite comical but I wish that I could have thanked them at the moment when I got the gift and not a month later. But I guess in these cases it’s better late than never.
I began to ponder who could have sent such a thoughtful gift and who would make mention of my blog. Now I know only 3 -4 people read my blog and I had already received condolences from them. So who else could it have come from? And the pronoun ‘we’ confounded me as well.
While I contemplated this for days, I began to ask around to see if anyone would confess. I gave much consideration to the thought that my book club could have been the culprits. But they most certainly would have signed the card. What if they did sign the card but the place sending the package didn’t include that? Completely possible.
I thought about posting a thank you on Facebook or sending a random email out to people to see but then I would have looked like a fruitcake. I asked my husband for advice and he said that someone will eventually ask if I had received the chocolates and that’s how I would know.
So last week at book club, one of my friends asked if I received a box of chocolates. And finally the mystery was solved! I told them about how the card didn’t come with a signature so I didn’t know who to thank. I proceeded to tell them how the messenger did look very sketchy and how my dogs barked at him for a while even after I told them to calm down.
It was such a thoughtful and sincere gesture and so greatly appreciated. The whole situation was quite comical but I wish that I could have thanked them at the moment when I got the gift and not a month later. But I guess in these cases it’s better late than never.
Sugary Sweet
This Monday I took the day off to go run some errands that needed to be done. One of which was to get a glucose test that my doctor had ordered a while ago. I am normally fine with tests and going to the hospital but this one seemed daunting to me – namely because I would have to fast before going for this test. And I am a big fan of my breakfast!
I got there as soon as the office opened and was the first one to sign up. They called my name and the nurse drew some blood. She then proceeded to give me a cold bottle of orange liquid to drink. I can’t exactly describe this beverage except that it was a cross between orange Fanta but 4 times sweeter or like those orange ice pops you adore as a kid but carbonated. The nurse instructed me to drink it as fast as I could. This was much easier said than done because with every single sip, I wanted to gag.
After I finished the beverage, I got extremely nauseous and did go to the bathroom out of fear that I would vomit. Luckily (or not so luckily), I didn’t throw it up. I went to sit in the waiting room for another hour while trying to battle off an amazing surge of dizziness that had met me after going to the bathroom. I closed my eyes for a bit to try to keep the dizziness at bay and it worked.
After an hour from drinking the liquid, the nurse drew some more blood. I suddenly felt very faint and closed my eyes again. I ended up falling asleep. I woke a few minutes before the second and last blood drawing interval. I walked home happy to be over with the experience but I didn’t feel very settled in my stomach. I felt as though I was hit by a car – I was lethargic and queasy.
I stopped by a local coffee shop and had a sandwich. I felt a little better because I was no longer hungry but my head was still very foggy and I had no energy in my body. I still don’t fell 100% after this test!
It made me really begin to understand the importance of good nutrition. Now I know why they tell you to have breakfast every morning. After sleeping for 7-8 hours, your body is going to need some fuel. When you don’t put anything into your body, you beg your body to start to pull at any source it can to provide nutrients. That’s why I felt dizzy and nauseous. It also made me aware of the sugar spike that happens when all you eat are carbohydrates. That probably also contributed to my dizziness but it definitely explains why I crashed into a nap after having that nasty and disgusting drink. It definitely wasn’t a new lesson for me but it was a quick refresher course of why proteins are good to eat with carbs! Slowly rising sugar is an important thing if you want to be consistently clear minded and energetic throughout the day.
I hope the results will come out fine because I never want to have to take that test again. I wouldn’t even wish this nastiness on my worst enemy.
I got there as soon as the office opened and was the first one to sign up. They called my name and the nurse drew some blood. She then proceeded to give me a cold bottle of orange liquid to drink. I can’t exactly describe this beverage except that it was a cross between orange Fanta but 4 times sweeter or like those orange ice pops you adore as a kid but carbonated. The nurse instructed me to drink it as fast as I could. This was much easier said than done because with every single sip, I wanted to gag.
After I finished the beverage, I got extremely nauseous and did go to the bathroom out of fear that I would vomit. Luckily (or not so luckily), I didn’t throw it up. I went to sit in the waiting room for another hour while trying to battle off an amazing surge of dizziness that had met me after going to the bathroom. I closed my eyes for a bit to try to keep the dizziness at bay and it worked.
After an hour from drinking the liquid, the nurse drew some more blood. I suddenly felt very faint and closed my eyes again. I ended up falling asleep. I woke a few minutes before the second and last blood drawing interval. I walked home happy to be over with the experience but I didn’t feel very settled in my stomach. I felt as though I was hit by a car – I was lethargic and queasy.
I stopped by a local coffee shop and had a sandwich. I felt a little better because I was no longer hungry but my head was still very foggy and I had no energy in my body. I still don’t fell 100% after this test!
It made me really begin to understand the importance of good nutrition. Now I know why they tell you to have breakfast every morning. After sleeping for 7-8 hours, your body is going to need some fuel. When you don’t put anything into your body, you beg your body to start to pull at any source it can to provide nutrients. That’s why I felt dizzy and nauseous. It also made me aware of the sugar spike that happens when all you eat are carbohydrates. That probably also contributed to my dizziness but it definitely explains why I crashed into a nap after having that nasty and disgusting drink. It definitely wasn’t a new lesson for me but it was a quick refresher course of why proteins are good to eat with carbs! Slowly rising sugar is an important thing if you want to be consistently clear minded and energetic throughout the day.
I hope the results will come out fine because I never want to have to take that test again. I wouldn’t even wish this nastiness on my worst enemy.
The Hunger Games
Yes, I, along with millions of others, went to see “The Hunger Games” this past weekend. I was planning to wait it out but a friend really wanted to go so I decided to go. And now I remember why I don’t go to movies during opening weekend.
We got to the theater a half hour before the show time and as usual, it wasn’t early enough. We found ourselves searching for seats in front of the screen. Luckily we found some seats in the corner that weren’t too close and were actually very comfortable. I didn’t feel like I would be staring up the actors’ nostrils. Always a good sign.
My friend went to get some popcorn and soda, while I watched over the seats. There were two teenagers or young people sitting behind us who were quite vocal but I thought they would calm down once the movie started.
Um no..not a chance. They decided to add their play-by-play to the first couple of minutes. Luckily my friend turned around and told them to pipe down. They did for a bit but shortly thereafter, they started up again. My friend, once again, turned around and told them to shut their traps. And luckily they did. If they had started again, I would have had to turn around and I would not have been very nice.
The movie was pretty good until the lady sitting in the seat next to my friend got some messages. Her phone was in her bag and it lit up every time she got a call or a message. It was very distracting. At one point, she took the phone out and hid it under her coat while she answered the messages. This didn’t block out the glare from her phone in the least. I huffed; my friend puffed. Finally the lady put her phone away.
As the movie was close to ending, this same lady reached across my friend to poke at the person sitting in front of me. Apparently they were related in some way. My friend and I both looked at each other quizzically because we thought this behavior was rude and annoying.
Once the movie was over, my friend and I complained about how rude and inconsiderate people were during that movie. So much so that it took away from our appreciation of the film. I just don’t know why people can’t turn off their phones for 2 or so hours? I don’t think anyone is that important to have to be contacted so often – unless they are a doctor but I doubt that everyone whose cell phones were going off during the movie were doctors. Also, why do people feel it’s important to talk and make comments through movies? I can understand an occasional question from someone who isn’t getting a plot line but minutes of discussion are inappropriate and wrong.
I still enjoyed the movie but I would have liked it more in a quiet theatre or at home. It’s no wonder people would rather stay home and watch streaming movies. You don’t have to deal with other audience members.
We got to the theater a half hour before the show time and as usual, it wasn’t early enough. We found ourselves searching for seats in front of the screen. Luckily we found some seats in the corner that weren’t too close and were actually very comfortable. I didn’t feel like I would be staring up the actors’ nostrils. Always a good sign.
My friend went to get some popcorn and soda, while I watched over the seats. There were two teenagers or young people sitting behind us who were quite vocal but I thought they would calm down once the movie started.
Um no..not a chance. They decided to add their play-by-play to the first couple of minutes. Luckily my friend turned around and told them to pipe down. They did for a bit but shortly thereafter, they started up again. My friend, once again, turned around and told them to shut their traps. And luckily they did. If they had started again, I would have had to turn around and I would not have been very nice.
The movie was pretty good until the lady sitting in the seat next to my friend got some messages. Her phone was in her bag and it lit up every time she got a call or a message. It was very distracting. At one point, she took the phone out and hid it under her coat while she answered the messages. This didn’t block out the glare from her phone in the least. I huffed; my friend puffed. Finally the lady put her phone away.
As the movie was close to ending, this same lady reached across my friend to poke at the person sitting in front of me. Apparently they were related in some way. My friend and I both looked at each other quizzically because we thought this behavior was rude and annoying.
Once the movie was over, my friend and I complained about how rude and inconsiderate people were during that movie. So much so that it took away from our appreciation of the film. I just don’t know why people can’t turn off their phones for 2 or so hours? I don’t think anyone is that important to have to be contacted so often – unless they are a doctor but I doubt that everyone whose cell phones were going off during the movie were doctors. Also, why do people feel it’s important to talk and make comments through movies? I can understand an occasional question from someone who isn’t getting a plot line but minutes of discussion are inappropriate and wrong.
I still enjoyed the movie but I would have liked it more in a quiet theatre or at home. It’s no wonder people would rather stay home and watch streaming movies. You don’t have to deal with other audience members.
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Complimentary
I have never been used to people being nice to me. Honestly it’s not the deeds that I’m not used to. Plenty of people have done very nice deeds for or towards me and I’ve appreciated them. It’s the verbal compliments that I find particularly difficult to accept.
My parents were not very forthcoming with praise. I don’t think my dad ever said anything specific to me that showed his pride or applause. My mom wasn’t much for it in the past but has gotten better in recent years. In school, I got plenty of praise and it felt great. However, when I stepped into the real world; I found most compliments held ulterior motives.
All my bosses would compliment me on something to only bring up the big ‘but’ followed by ways I could improve. This is normal practice but I think that the practice squashes any employee’s motivation. As an employee I began to associate the compliment with a list of things I wasn’t doing well.
For instance last week the head of my group called me to thank me for all my hard work and that he thought I was one of the leaders in the team. He then proceeded to ask me questions which I couldn’t entirely answer and whatever happiness I felt from the compliment had disappeared in the span of a few nanoseconds.
While in my dating years every single compliment from a guy meant they expected something in return. Whether they intended it or not, I was very aware of it and I didn’t appreciate their words. It made me frigid in their eyes but at least I never felt taken advantage of.
I even have problems accepting them from my husband and friends. I always expect that something bad will follow the compliment. Perhaps if people would just compliment others without it sounding forced and without a disclaimer behind it, it might be easier. I usually compliment people and that’s it. I don’t wait with a long list of all the other things they do wrong. I am not waiting for a sexual favor in return. I do it be nice and to make a person smile. And I am sure other people do it to me as well – with no other intent than to be nice, but I find it very hard to accept and I’m not sure how to change it really.
My parents were not very forthcoming with praise. I don’t think my dad ever said anything specific to me that showed his pride or applause. My mom wasn’t much for it in the past but has gotten better in recent years. In school, I got plenty of praise and it felt great. However, when I stepped into the real world; I found most compliments held ulterior motives.
All my bosses would compliment me on something to only bring up the big ‘but’ followed by ways I could improve. This is normal practice but I think that the practice squashes any employee’s motivation. As an employee I began to associate the compliment with a list of things I wasn’t doing well.
For instance last week the head of my group called me to thank me for all my hard work and that he thought I was one of the leaders in the team. He then proceeded to ask me questions which I couldn’t entirely answer and whatever happiness I felt from the compliment had disappeared in the span of a few nanoseconds.
While in my dating years every single compliment from a guy meant they expected something in return. Whether they intended it or not, I was very aware of it and I didn’t appreciate their words. It made me frigid in their eyes but at least I never felt taken advantage of.
I even have problems accepting them from my husband and friends. I always expect that something bad will follow the compliment. Perhaps if people would just compliment others without it sounding forced and without a disclaimer behind it, it might be easier. I usually compliment people and that’s it. I don’t wait with a long list of all the other things they do wrong. I am not waiting for a sexual favor in return. I do it be nice and to make a person smile. And I am sure other people do it to me as well – with no other intent than to be nice, but I find it very hard to accept and I’m not sure how to change it really.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Attention Deficiency
Everyone has ADHD these days. Doctors are handing out more ADHD diagnoses than ever before. In 2010, there were 10.4 million ADHD cases diagnosed compared to the 6.2 million in 2000. That's a lot more ADHD. This, of course, does not necessarily mean that technology or corn syrup has ruined our society's future leaders, it might have more to do with doctor awareness. "The magnitude and speed of this shift in one decade is likely due to an increased awareness of ADHD, which may have caused more physicians to recognize symptoms and diagnose the disorder," explains researcher Dr. Craig Garfield. [Academic Pediatrics]
This is something I’ve been thinking about for a very long time. I used to wonder if I didn’t have ADD because I had trouble focusing and concentrating on tasks that I thought were boring. I realized after a while that it wasn’t me that had ADD but everyone around me. I can’t count on my fingers or toes the number of times various co-workers check their cell phones for personal emails or texts from friends not at work. On top of that the constant disruption of work instant messaging and people forget to do things because they get interrupted by either an instant message or an email in their inbox. People can’t focus and technology makes it worse.
Work is one thing but this behavior happens outside the office so often. A number of times I’ll sit at a restaurant reading a book and I see couples or groups of people at tables next to me. One minute in the middle of a discussion, then next checking their phones for a message from God, their best friends or their significant others. And no one remembers anything anymore. It’s so much easier to look something up on Google than to just keep it in their memory. I do it too but it’s really sad. For all the convenience we’ve gotten from technology, it’s allowed us to get early Alzheimer’s and to run around consistently like chickens without heads. Personally I’d rather not feel like this. I fondly remember 8 hour blocks of time in college when I could focus on my studies. Now I am lucky if I can get an hour of time to concentrate on a work task without an incoming email, an instant message, some loud office worker talking on the phone, or a call from someone with an issue. It would be nice to not have all these interruptions. It would feel wonderful to actually be productive again.
This is something I’ve been thinking about for a very long time. I used to wonder if I didn’t have ADD because I had trouble focusing and concentrating on tasks that I thought were boring. I realized after a while that it wasn’t me that had ADD but everyone around me. I can’t count on my fingers or toes the number of times various co-workers check their cell phones for personal emails or texts from friends not at work. On top of that the constant disruption of work instant messaging and people forget to do things because they get interrupted by either an instant message or an email in their inbox. People can’t focus and technology makes it worse.
Work is one thing but this behavior happens outside the office so often. A number of times I’ll sit at a restaurant reading a book and I see couples or groups of people at tables next to me. One minute in the middle of a discussion, then next checking their phones for a message from God, their best friends or their significant others. And no one remembers anything anymore. It’s so much easier to look something up on Google than to just keep it in their memory. I do it too but it’s really sad. For all the convenience we’ve gotten from technology, it’s allowed us to get early Alzheimer’s and to run around consistently like chickens without heads. Personally I’d rather not feel like this. I fondly remember 8 hour blocks of time in college when I could focus on my studies. Now I am lucky if I can get an hour of time to concentrate on a work task without an incoming email, an instant message, some loud office worker talking on the phone, or a call from someone with an issue. It would be nice to not have all these interruptions. It would feel wonderful to actually be productive again.
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
The Diva(s)
One of my neighbors is a trained opera soprano. Occasionally I hear her practicing her octave scales during the day. I think it’s fascinating because I know I can never hit those ranges. I’m a little envious but I get over it pretty quickly.
Recently I noticed that when she’s practicing it sounds like someone is crying along side her. As if a sobbing baby is doing a duet with her. When I asked my husband if he noticed that, he informed me that my neighbor has a very special singing partner. My neighbor has a little shih tzu that is quite barky. Apparently the little dog decided to take a step in its master’s footsteps and has been practicing along side her every day. She might be performing at Lincoln Center sometime soon so I should probably get my tickets soon.
Recently I noticed that when she’s practicing it sounds like someone is crying along side her. As if a sobbing baby is doing a duet with her. When I asked my husband if he noticed that, he informed me that my neighbor has a very special singing partner. My neighbor has a little shih tzu that is quite barky. Apparently the little dog decided to take a step in its master’s footsteps and has been practicing along side her every day. She might be performing at Lincoln Center sometime soon so I should probably get my tickets soon.
Friday, March 16, 2012
The Two Sides of the Same Coin
’30 Rock’ is one of my favorite shows. It is very fast and cutting edge and it takes place in New York so many of the jokes have to do with being in NY. A recent episode talked about the two opposing views of New York (you can read a little about this episode in this article on the Entertainment Weekly website:http://popwatch.ew.com/2012/02/17/30-rock-season-6-episode-7/) – the wonderful, magical aspect of New York and the malicious and rude part of the Big Apple.
If we look at Frank Sinatra’s “New York, New York”, the magical aspects of the city fill most of the lines – the fact that if you make it in NY, you can make it anywhere; the city that never sleeps etc. In the episode of ’30 Rock’, Alec Baldwin’s character believes this theory full-heartedly even after he is mugged. Whereas Tina Fey’s character proposes all the evil stereotypes of NY and New Yorkers – rude, pushy and that the city is trying its best to take everyone down.
Recently I met up with someone who had recently moved to the city. I asked her what her impressions of the city were. She said that she thought that the city was trying to get the best out of her while the people were just great. She provided examples and I told her how most people I knew thought the opposite – that the city was great but the people were horrible.
As a Native New Yorker, I like to think of myself as one of the great people in the city – the kind that helps tourists with directions or wants to show newcomers the cool spots of the city. But I find that a lot of the people that live here (who are not native New Yorkers) are rude, pushy and inconsiderate because someone told them that is the way they need to be to live here. I don’t see how this kind of behavior would be appropriate anywhere. But it happens and it happens a lot in this wonderful city. I am one of the believers that the city is great but the people stink.
Who can deny the awe one feels when they peer up a the skyscrapers? Or who doesn’t feel like there are parts of the city that don’t fell like hectic and chaotic places – like Central Park or along the River’s edges? The Broadway shows and the Museums draw so many tourists to the city every year along with the history of Yankee Stadium and Time Square. It’s a shame that there are such opposing views to the city but it’s also what makes it endearing. Where else in the world could shows like ‘Seinfeld’ or ’30 Rock’ have been created but in a place that most people simultaneously love and hate?
If we look at Frank Sinatra’s “New York, New York”, the magical aspects of the city fill most of the lines – the fact that if you make it in NY, you can make it anywhere; the city that never sleeps etc. In the episode of ’30 Rock’, Alec Baldwin’s character believes this theory full-heartedly even after he is mugged. Whereas Tina Fey’s character proposes all the evil stereotypes of NY and New Yorkers – rude, pushy and that the city is trying its best to take everyone down.
Recently I met up with someone who had recently moved to the city. I asked her what her impressions of the city were. She said that she thought that the city was trying to get the best out of her while the people were just great. She provided examples and I told her how most people I knew thought the opposite – that the city was great but the people were horrible.
As a Native New Yorker, I like to think of myself as one of the great people in the city – the kind that helps tourists with directions or wants to show newcomers the cool spots of the city. But I find that a lot of the people that live here (who are not native New Yorkers) are rude, pushy and inconsiderate because someone told them that is the way they need to be to live here. I don’t see how this kind of behavior would be appropriate anywhere. But it happens and it happens a lot in this wonderful city. I am one of the believers that the city is great but the people stink.
Who can deny the awe one feels when they peer up a the skyscrapers? Or who doesn’t feel like there are parts of the city that don’t fell like hectic and chaotic places – like Central Park or along the River’s edges? The Broadway shows and the Museums draw so many tourists to the city every year along with the history of Yankee Stadium and Time Square. It’s a shame that there are such opposing views to the city but it’s also what makes it endearing. Where else in the world could shows like ‘Seinfeld’ or ’30 Rock’ have been created but in a place that most people simultaneously love and hate?
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Man's Best Friend
My dad really loved my dogs and the feeling was mutual. When he was feeling well he would come over numerous times a day to see the ‘beauties of the house’ (I played no part in this group, I’d like to add). One of my dogs had a special bark to notify us that he was in the hallway. He often would open the door and ask her why she was barking. He questioned how she knew it was him versus someone else.
He would sit with them on the couch and pet them and often would talk to them. Depending on whether I was home and how I was feeling, I’d either greet my dad and sit with them. Or I’d sit in the bedroom and eavesdrop on the puppy play session. Regardless of where I was in relation to this love fest, it was always really cute.
He would talk to Foxy, who is the bigger of my two dogs and the one who would tell us he was arriving, and tell her that she was getting chubby or that she was losing weight. She’d put her head down and would allow him to pet her head. Occasionally she’s raise up with her front paws on his shoulders and would lick him. When she did this my dad would allow her to until it got out of control and he would say something like “I already washed my face today, Flexie’ or “I don’t need to shave so stop softening my facial hair.” If we yelled at her to get down, he’s say “Leave her alone.” Occasionally he would ask her if she was going to give him her paw. But most of the time she’d surrender it to him. He often asked the dogs what he was going to do with them.
Bonnette, my older and smaller dog, loved to sit and sleep with my dad – either while watching television together or just to pass a lazy afternoon. She would also shower my dad with licks. He would often clean the goop that was collecting in her eyelids. She would only allow him or my husband to do this. She wouldn’t complain at all but seemed to enjoy it even if he was sticking his nail in the corner of her eye. He would tell her “I’m going to kill you!” (He said this to Foxy too) or he would threaten to eat them.
Despite the number of times I instructed my dad that my dogs’ names were Bonnette and Foxy, he insisted on calling them Bonnie and Flexie. One time while we were in the car, my dad kept saying “Flexie! Flexie! Come here!” to which she never responded. My dad said under his breath “Another one that never listens to me!” I laughed at this because it wasn’t that she wasn’t listening to him, it was that she didn’t know her name to be Flexie but Foxy. Occasionally he’d give the dogs his own special names such as “tempest” for Bonnette because he thought she was a troublemaker. But she was only as bad as he was. There were times I would look at them together and say they looked and acted like twins. Bonnette would bark if she didn’t like something and my dad would raise his voice in his special way and tell us we were doing something wrong or that someone was full of it.
There are days when I keep expecting to hear that bark and/or the door bell ring. The hardest part is knowing that I won’t hear that progression of events any more. This is one of the things I miss most about my dad.
He would sit with them on the couch and pet them and often would talk to them. Depending on whether I was home and how I was feeling, I’d either greet my dad and sit with them. Or I’d sit in the bedroom and eavesdrop on the puppy play session. Regardless of where I was in relation to this love fest, it was always really cute.
He would talk to Foxy, who is the bigger of my two dogs and the one who would tell us he was arriving, and tell her that she was getting chubby or that she was losing weight. She’d put her head down and would allow him to pet her head. Occasionally she’s raise up with her front paws on his shoulders and would lick him. When she did this my dad would allow her to until it got out of control and he would say something like “I already washed my face today, Flexie’ or “I don’t need to shave so stop softening my facial hair.” If we yelled at her to get down, he’s say “Leave her alone.” Occasionally he would ask her if she was going to give him her paw. But most of the time she’d surrender it to him. He often asked the dogs what he was going to do with them.
Bonnette, my older and smaller dog, loved to sit and sleep with my dad – either while watching television together or just to pass a lazy afternoon. She would also shower my dad with licks. He would often clean the goop that was collecting in her eyelids. She would only allow him or my husband to do this. She wouldn’t complain at all but seemed to enjoy it even if he was sticking his nail in the corner of her eye. He would tell her “I’m going to kill you!” (He said this to Foxy too) or he would threaten to eat them.
Despite the number of times I instructed my dad that my dogs’ names were Bonnette and Foxy, he insisted on calling them Bonnie and Flexie. One time while we were in the car, my dad kept saying “Flexie! Flexie! Come here!” to which she never responded. My dad said under his breath “Another one that never listens to me!” I laughed at this because it wasn’t that she wasn’t listening to him, it was that she didn’t know her name to be Flexie but Foxy. Occasionally he’d give the dogs his own special names such as “tempest” for Bonnette because he thought she was a troublemaker. But she was only as bad as he was. There were times I would look at them together and say they looked and acted like twins. Bonnette would bark if she didn’t like something and my dad would raise his voice in his special way and tell us we were doing something wrong or that someone was full of it.
There are days when I keep expecting to hear that bark and/or the door bell ring. The hardest part is knowing that I won’t hear that progression of events any more. This is one of the things I miss most about my dad.
Friday, March 9, 2012
The Dynamic Duo
During my father’s wake services so many people came up to me to tell me stories about him. He was definitely a character but there were new stories that I hadn’t heard before. I was really glad that people shared them with me. Many of the stories involved my mom and my dad.
My next door neighbor told me two stories that I thought were so funny and sweet. My neighbor had moved to New York from North Carolina and encountered a shock when she found a big New York waterbug in her kitchen. She frantically called my parents to let them know. My parents knew that these insects could be shocking to those who were not used to them. So they walked over to her apartment together. She pointed out where the bug was and they both looked at each other to confirm that it was in fact a ‘New York city waterbug’. My mom took a paper towel, covered her hand in it, and smacked the waterbug. She crushed it. My dad, with cigarette perched on his lip, reached out and grabbed the paper towel, crumpled it to ensure said varmint was indeed dead and then he walked out of my neighbor’s apartment. My mom told my neighbor that they would be calling the exterminator to come just to be sure there weren’t more. My mom smiled at her and walked out of the apartment.
Another time my next door neighbor’s refrigerator stopped working. She obviously called my parents to inform them. Both of them came over with the repair man to inspect the issue. The repairman looked at the issue while both my parents mentioned how the fridge was new. A little later the repairman mentioned that the part that was needed to fix the problem would be hard to find since the fridge was 20 years old. Both my parents frowned – my father doing so with the ubiquitous cigarette perched between his lips. My father finally contested that he would order a new fridge for the tenant.
My dad placed the order and was available to let the delivery man and the new fridge into my neighbor’s apartment. My next door neighbor called frantically after receiving my dad’s message that the appliance was already in her apartment. She interrupted my dad to try to find out which size was ordered. To which my dad responded “I know you like the smaller version so you can put your microwave oven above the fridge. So that’s what is here. See you soon.”
My neighbor mentioned these two stories but also said how she felt safe having them next door. Whenever my parents were in the building, they always held their own private inquisition on any people they didn’t recognize. The questioning would go something like this:
“Hello, who are you?”
“Which apartment are you going to/coming from?”
“What’s your name?”
“Who am I? I’m the landlord, that’s who. And it’s none of your business!”
“I remember you now so maybe I see you again soon.”
“Bye _______. I will tell _____ that I saw you.”
My neighbor insisted that my mom was the more persistent of the two (she’s from a small town that is very involved in what other people are doing) but that my dad scared many of her friends. It really made me giggle to hear these stories because obviously I knew what my parents were like. To hear how other people saw them was very touching and endearing. In their own way, they were Batman and Robin to a small group of buildings on the Upper West Side. Now Robin works a solo gig but I’m sure she will continue to give the tenants stories to match the ones people had of her husband.
My next door neighbor told me two stories that I thought were so funny and sweet. My neighbor had moved to New York from North Carolina and encountered a shock when she found a big New York waterbug in her kitchen. She frantically called my parents to let them know. My parents knew that these insects could be shocking to those who were not used to them. So they walked over to her apartment together. She pointed out where the bug was and they both looked at each other to confirm that it was in fact a ‘New York city waterbug’. My mom took a paper towel, covered her hand in it, and smacked the waterbug. She crushed it. My dad, with cigarette perched on his lip, reached out and grabbed the paper towel, crumpled it to ensure said varmint was indeed dead and then he walked out of my neighbor’s apartment. My mom told my neighbor that they would be calling the exterminator to come just to be sure there weren’t more. My mom smiled at her and walked out of the apartment.
Another time my next door neighbor’s refrigerator stopped working. She obviously called my parents to inform them. Both of them came over with the repair man to inspect the issue. The repairman looked at the issue while both my parents mentioned how the fridge was new. A little later the repairman mentioned that the part that was needed to fix the problem would be hard to find since the fridge was 20 years old. Both my parents frowned – my father doing so with the ubiquitous cigarette perched between his lips. My father finally contested that he would order a new fridge for the tenant.
My dad placed the order and was available to let the delivery man and the new fridge into my neighbor’s apartment. My next door neighbor called frantically after receiving my dad’s message that the appliance was already in her apartment. She interrupted my dad to try to find out which size was ordered. To which my dad responded “I know you like the smaller version so you can put your microwave oven above the fridge. So that’s what is here. See you soon.”
My neighbor mentioned these two stories but also said how she felt safe having them next door. Whenever my parents were in the building, they always held their own private inquisition on any people they didn’t recognize. The questioning would go something like this:
“Hello, who are you?”
“Which apartment are you going to/coming from?”
“What’s your name?”
“Who am I? I’m the landlord, that’s who. And it’s none of your business!”
“I remember you now so maybe I see you again soon.”
“Bye _______. I will tell _____ that I saw you.”
My neighbor insisted that my mom was the more persistent of the two (she’s from a small town that is very involved in what other people are doing) but that my dad scared many of her friends. It really made me giggle to hear these stories because obviously I knew what my parents were like. To hear how other people saw them was very touching and endearing. In their own way, they were Batman and Robin to a small group of buildings on the Upper West Side. Now Robin works a solo gig but I’m sure she will continue to give the tenants stories to match the ones people had of her husband.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Spring Awakening
It is a lovely day out today. It’s the kind of day that reminds me of college – when the weather got nice and all I wanted to do was skip classes and read outside in the park. I went to the gym this morning with a light jacket and thought I’d be cold. But it was so pleasant and it reminded me that we are so close to spring. Perhaps my good friends the groundhogs (well, at least one of them) was right after all – spring is coming.
I enjoy these days when it feels like spring. There is still a chill in the air but nothing a sweater or light jacket can’t handle. I would love to have months of this weather like when I was younger. It seems to have disappeared in recent years. We seem to go from a brutal winter straight to hot, oppressive heat. I enjoy gradual temperature changes.
This morning also reminded me of the first time I visited Paris. April in Paris was a myth to me until I got there. The birds chirped all day long, the flowers were blooming, the sun was shining, the cafes were packed with Parisians and tourists sipping their drinks and discussing, the readers were sitting in parks reading or discussing. It was at that time when I got that feeling – the feeling of happiness to be alive and to be experiencing rebirth and awakening of the various souls that were hibernating through the damp, cold winter. The cocoons were breaking free, the shells were cracking and everyone was in search of life and love.
As I strolled back from the gym, I took in a deep, fresh smell of the air. If the weather keeps up like this I’m sure I won’t be able to breathe too well (thank you, seasonal allergies!). And then I wondered if there wouldn’t be a 30 degree drop in temperature overnight. The weather has definitely kept me on my toes this year but it would be nice to finally have a nice period of splendid spring for once.
I enjoy these days when it feels like spring. There is still a chill in the air but nothing a sweater or light jacket can’t handle. I would love to have months of this weather like when I was younger. It seems to have disappeared in recent years. We seem to go from a brutal winter straight to hot, oppressive heat. I enjoy gradual temperature changes.
This morning also reminded me of the first time I visited Paris. April in Paris was a myth to me until I got there. The birds chirped all day long, the flowers were blooming, the sun was shining, the cafes were packed with Parisians and tourists sipping their drinks and discussing, the readers were sitting in parks reading or discussing. It was at that time when I got that feeling – the feeling of happiness to be alive and to be experiencing rebirth and awakening of the various souls that were hibernating through the damp, cold winter. The cocoons were breaking free, the shells were cracking and everyone was in search of life and love.
As I strolled back from the gym, I took in a deep, fresh smell of the air. If the weather keeps up like this I’m sure I won’t be able to breathe too well (thank you, seasonal allergies!). And then I wondered if there wouldn’t be a 30 degree drop in temperature overnight. The weather has definitely kept me on my toes this year but it would be nice to finally have a nice period of splendid spring for once.
Monday, March 5, 2012
Going Home
A few days ago I spoke about how I went back to my high school to speak at Career Day. It was a great experience to be able to discuss what I do with young girls and to give them an idea of the world out there. The best part of the event wasn’t even talking to the girls; it was the nostalgia and comfort I felt with going back to my high school.
I, unlike a lot of people I know, thoroughly enjoyed high school (c.f. blog entry ‘A Safe Place’). I was allowed to be creative and I was challenged at every stage by my teachers. But at the same time I felt supported which was a great feeling during those awkward teenage years.
So going back to high school, albeit in a completely different school building, still brought back fond memories. I saw a number of the teachers who taught me and we reminisced. Some of the teachers haven’t aged at all which helped me feel like I was back in my uniform again. While talking to them, I felt like I never left because the discussions were the same – open, welcoming and yet challenging. They asked a lot of good questions of me – the same as those I encountered back in the high school but with the ‘real world’ twist.
As I rushed back to work I found myself dreading leaving the building. It was so nice to be there – joking with the teachers – in a way I never would have back in the day. The high school student had now grown up and was accepted by her former teachers in her adult version.
I, unlike a lot of people I know, thoroughly enjoyed high school (c.f. blog entry ‘A Safe Place’). I was allowed to be creative and I was challenged at every stage by my teachers. But at the same time I felt supported which was a great feeling during those awkward teenage years.
So going back to high school, albeit in a completely different school building, still brought back fond memories. I saw a number of the teachers who taught me and we reminisced. Some of the teachers haven’t aged at all which helped me feel like I was back in my uniform again. While talking to them, I felt like I never left because the discussions were the same – open, welcoming and yet challenging. They asked a lot of good questions of me – the same as those I encountered back in the high school but with the ‘real world’ twist.
As I rushed back to work I found myself dreading leaving the building. It was so nice to be there – joking with the teachers – in a way I never would have back in the day. The high school student had now grown up and was accepted by her former teachers in her adult version.
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Career Day
Yesterday I went back to my high school to be a speaker on their Career Day panel. I wasn’t entirely sure what I would say but we were asked to address some basic questions – where were work, what is our day-to-day, any advice we had for the students, etc. I followed that structure to the best of my ability.
What was interesting is that some of the other panelists came from different areas of the professional world. Two of the panelists were lawyers, one was a police detective, a nurse and a doctor were on the panel. I spoke on behalf of the business world. One of the panelists spoke about being a Compliance Auditor in the Department of Labor who investigates discrimination in the workplace. The last person spoke about being a translator. Not bad for a bunch of girls, I thought.
When I attended high school, we never had a career day. It would have been nice because I was naïve enough to think the only professions out there were doctors, lawyers, nurses and teachers. But things have evolved and we have to keep up with the times.
What almost every panelist stressed is the importance of reading and how you never stop reading after you leave school. In addition they also said that if you want to advance in your career, you need to keep learning. It was nice to see the other women speak to these topics because they were things I personally believed but never heard mentioned outside of my own field (and the education field).
We didn’t have enough time for a question and answer section (which I would have participated in! I wanted to ask the police officer a bunch of questions!). It would have been nice to see what thoughts were going through their heads as they processed all of our stories. I probably won’t do this again for a few years but it was a lot of fun to give some of my time to help younger folks figure out what there is out in the ‘real world.’ Little do they know, I’d rather be in their shoes, sitting in classes and doing homework, than in the world I inhabit.
What was interesting is that some of the other panelists came from different areas of the professional world. Two of the panelists were lawyers, one was a police detective, a nurse and a doctor were on the panel. I spoke on behalf of the business world. One of the panelists spoke about being a Compliance Auditor in the Department of Labor who investigates discrimination in the workplace. The last person spoke about being a translator. Not bad for a bunch of girls, I thought.
When I attended high school, we never had a career day. It would have been nice because I was naïve enough to think the only professions out there were doctors, lawyers, nurses and teachers. But things have evolved and we have to keep up with the times.
What almost every panelist stressed is the importance of reading and how you never stop reading after you leave school. In addition they also said that if you want to advance in your career, you need to keep learning. It was nice to see the other women speak to these topics because they were things I personally believed but never heard mentioned outside of my own field (and the education field).
We didn’t have enough time for a question and answer section (which I would have participated in! I wanted to ask the police officer a bunch of questions!). It would have been nice to see what thoughts were going through their heads as they processed all of our stories. I probably won’t do this again for a few years but it was a lot of fun to give some of my time to help younger folks figure out what there is out in the ‘real world.’ Little do they know, I’d rather be in their shoes, sitting in classes and doing homework, than in the world I inhabit.
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