Thursday, March 28, 2013

Scratch and Sniff

I have become highly sensitive to perfumes and colognes. It started when I was pregnant and it’s gotten progressively worse since. I can’t even be around people with cologne and perfumes without my eyes starting to tear up. My nose starts to run and I begin to sneeze. If the exposure is long enough, I start to get headaches too.

This curious situation seemed psychosomatic to me at first. Maybe I just don’t like their cologne and that’s why I am having a reaction. Unfortunately it wasn’t that easy.

I first noticed the problem when a number of visitors came by to see the baby and their perfume made me want to hurl. I didn’t understand why they were wearing perfume to see a baby in the first place because I know how sensitive baby skin can be. But that’s neither here nor there. Then one day in a conference, a guy sat two seats down from me. I could smell his cologne from where I was sitting. When I actually left the meeting, the smell of his cologne was on me. I spent a couple of minutes thereafter in the bathroom trying to clean off the smell from my clothing.
That’s when I realized it wasn’t the smell so much as the obscene quantity of perfume and cologne that people wear that gets to me. I occasionally wear perfume but my spritzes don’t go past 3 pumps. I don’t think everyone should be subjected to my scent. I even tend on the lighter side by pumping twice.

I realize that a lot of the people that wear scents are certain ethnic groups. While I understand that it's cultural and tied to how someone presents themselves, I don't think that others should be tortured by your choices. I don’t think that people should leave a trail like Pepe le Pew wafting behind them when they wear perfume.

Why do people need so much cologne or perfume? If you shower on a daily basis, the smell of cleanliness usually works and isn’t offensive. I guess I also don’t understand because perfume is expensive. If you have enough money to pour a whole bottle on yourself on a daily basis, it just seems excessive to me. I guess people want to make an impression by having their scent linger in the air days past the time they were even in that room. There have to be other ways to make an impression on people without choking them or spending so much money. I always thought a witty comment or a good handshake and nice smile always made a good impression on others. Guess I'm old fashioned and nose sensitive.

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

Office Space

The trend in office real estate of recent years has been to create more open and common spaces for the peons who do the daily grunt work. It didn’t used to be this way but it’s progressively gotten worse as have people’s workplace manners.


When I first started to work in office buildings, I had my own personal cubicle with tall walls (they didn’t reach the ceiling but still they were pretty high up to cover most tall people’s sight) on 3 sides and a space in the fourth wall that was an entrance to my space. People would need to come into the common aisle in order to see what people were doing at their desks. Normally I didn’t care about people looking in because I was working. But I did know some people who enjoyed this ‘privacy’ because they were known to take naps on the job. If people had phone conversations, they would generally keep their voices low. If the need for gossip arose, they generally kept those discussions in areas away from people’s desks. Overall, I felt productive and could concentrate

The next office I occupied still had three walls but they were much shorter and the fourth wall was missing but because of the spacing of the other 3 walls, it seemed more open than my first one. People could see their co-workers across the aisles but generally everyone minded their own business and kept their personal conversations to a minimum or to a very super quiet decibel level. At that time, people also had meetings in person because everyone they dealt with was usually in the vicinity.

As my business groups have become more spaced out globally, more conference calls were needed. With that requirement, the opening of the space around my desk got bigger and less private and personal. In the last few years, it’s been maddeningly annoying because everyone else is also on as many calls as I am on, or more. Others feel the need to conduct those calls on speaker phone, or while walking around the office so that we can all hear them ‘working’.

I have often become a third party to many very private phone calls without my being complicit in them. I just happen to sit in the row next to these people, for the love of sugar! I don’t want to know these things. They are so loud that even with my ipod in my ears at a high volume, I can hear everything. I feel horrible knowing things about people that I shouldn’t know.

For instance today, I was accosted by a conversation between two co-workers in the area next to mine. They went on for about 20 minutes on how one of them got some great deals on clothes. I turned up the U2 on my ipod but Bono really couldn’t do much to drown out the eyelet top and denim vest that was purchased. I heard the colors and the coupons that were used. I wanted to shoot myself. After this information session finished, I got to hear the clicking of the long fingernails on both of their keyboards. It made my heart flutter and not because spring felt like it finally arrived. It made me want to vomit and not in the same way as my recent spinning class.

Friends have told me to speak up but really, what can you say to certain people? You know the types. When you tell them something nicely and they decide to get even by being even louder. I had the suspicion these people would act that way if I pointed out their loudness to them.

I complained to my friend who said that maybe we should have department heads and executives sit in these open cubes. To which I replied “if they did that, I’d make sure there was a daily visit from a high school marching band.”

It’s so sad that I need to listen to my ipod to drown out other people’s noise while I work. It’s horrendous that this behavior persists and is getting worse. I really don’t know why everyone feels they need to be so inconsiderate. And then people wonder why I dislike going to work in an office. Yes, camaraderie is nice and might be good for innovation. More often than not, it’s a source of high blood pressure and frustration.

Tuesday, March 26, 2013

Mistaken Identity

Yesterday was the first day of Passover. When I got to work, my boss asked if I would be leaving early. I thought the question was weird. I said “Not unless the snowstorm they are predicting gets really bad.” He didn’t know it was supposed to snow. He then walked away.


It was only later on that a realized why he was asking me if I was leaving early. My boss thought I was Jewish. He himself is Jewish.

I have been mistaken for Jewish since I was really young. Granted I did have a “jewish grandmother” (C.f. entry entitled My Jewish Grandmother), I never understood why people made that assumption. Was it because I lived in a very Jewish neighborhood in NYC and was a little bit sassy and had chutzpah? What made non-Jews think this about me? After a while I decided it was based on the stereotype that people had of Jewish people having big noses. I have a very Roman nose. A Roman nose, not a Jewish nose. I honestly don’t even know what a Jewish nose looks like. I didn’t get too upset about it because I figured that the people asking me if I was Jewish were not Jewish themselves and they were making assumptions based on very dumb criteria.

Then a lot of Jewish people mistook me for Jewish and then I was confused beyond belief. What I assumed was just an intolerant and ignorant comment in the past was now coming from the people who would know best. I still to this day don’t know why people think this about me but that’s fine. I didn’t think I acted like any of my Jewish friends. I guess that in this world of mixed races and ethnicities, it’s understandable. But it’s still baffling. It makes me really want to look up my family tree and see if there isn’t some basis for this common confusion surrounding my identity.

Monday, March 25, 2013

Counterintuitive

I dragged myself to another spinning class yesterday. One of my friends ended up meeting me there although we didn’t sit close to each other as we had in the previous week’s class. In general it’s hard to get to gym when you aren’t used to it. When I was going almost every day before pregnancy, I’d practically jump out of bed and be at the gym without a single doubtful thought entering my mind.


Lately it’s tougher. I find myself justifying reasons to not go. I have to floss my teeth. Hey, we are out of milk. My toe nail polish is coming off. Whatever insignificant reason, I’ll use it. However the main reason is I’m tired. Or I’m in pain from running 5 insane hours of errands the day before! Anyway, I did get there which is a big step.

For some reason, maybe 10 minutes into this class, I wanted to vomit. It’s not something I like to associate with exercise but on occasion it happens. Mostly I breathe through the huffing and puffing and hope it will go away. It did subside a few minutes later only to rear its head again about 10 minutes after that. I pushed through it as much as I could. I found myself breathing harder and harder. Not enough to pass out but it was getting there. Again, I focused on my breathing to try to get the nauseated feeling to go away. It worked momentarily.

I adjusted the resistance on the bike to drink water and try to recover. It felt better. The last few minutes of class, my heart was pumping as if I had been chased by a ravenous bear. Finally the class was over! Phew!

We stretched and left class. I met up with my friend and she commented too on wanted to throw up. I felt better because I thought it was just me. Everyone coming out of the class looked generally like they had been hanging by cliff with their nails. Ahhh so it was just a tough class!

I was telling my friend how this one instructor told me that if you feel like throwing up in a class that it was a good thing. It meant you were pushing yourself and your heart. I also recalled telling that instructor that I never considered wanting to vomit a good thing, especially since it’s something I try to avoid in general since it feels so horrible. I guess there are a lot of things in life that are a bit counterintuitive. Sometimes you are skeptical and think it’s you but usually there are others who feel the same way. That’s always a relief.

Thursday, March 21, 2013

Junior

The other day I had to call one of my dad’s contacts to get some things we needed. Since my dad was a superintendent of some apartment buildings, he had a list of people he would call for different things he needed. Every time I contact one of those point people, I hear a story about my dad.


I was calling to return some mop heads that were too long. When I told the guy, Brad, that I needed to exchange the mops, he said ‘your dad would always complain about the size of the mop heads’. I didn’t doubt what he was saying. He then imitated my dad’s voice and said “Junior, why are these mopheads so long? I clean small apartment buildings. Not the Empire State Building!” I chuckled as he told me the story because I could completely see and hear my father doing and saying these things. Brad mentioned that within 20 minutes of a delivery, he expected to hear from my dad about some aspect of what was sent. It wasn’t always negative. Sometimes it was just a thank you that the merchandise had arrived.

What made me chuckle the most is how my dad would refer to Brad as junior because he was the son of the owner. This was correct usage but I never heard anyone but my dad using this term to address people. I was so used to people named ‘Junior’ having the same name as their father. To me Brad wasn’t really a junior because his dad’s name is Jerry. But my dad was right, he was the male child.

When he wasn’t calling people Junior, he’d call almost everyone else Johnny. I remember one time we went to a gas station and an attendant filled up our gas tank but also cleaned our windshield. He clearly had a badge that said “Abdul” on his chest but my dad said “Thank you, Johnny! Nice job!” At the time I found it embarrassing but now it’s one of the things I miss and that makes me smile when I think of him.

Friday, March 8, 2013

Barre Belle

Two days ago I took a ballet barre class which is all the rage in the fitness world of late. I actually took this class a number of times while I was pregnant. It was very challenging then but I thought it had to do with the fact that I was carrying twenty extra pounds on my body. Oh no! I can guarantee you that the padding around my stomach was not what made this class tough. It’s is a kick your tush royally class!


It’s a high energy class. The instructor (who gave birth a few days before I did, who also taught the classes I took prior to pregnancy), who looks phenomenally fit and lean, plays very uptempo music so it’s very contagious in that regard. You are singing while your body is burning and wobbly. It’s quite a sight!

There are a lot of exercises and moves done with the assistance of the barre. You do a number of different sets of various plies. Sometimes you incorporate a ball in between your knees to focus on your inner and outer thighs. I could feel my legs give way underneath me through most of this part of the class. You then do some arm exercises at the barre and then with weights in the middle of the studio. You go back to the barre to do some butt exercises which are also incredibly effective in the wobbly-leg making capacity. Then you move to ab exercises on the floor which included numerous variations on the plank position (which were the easiest part of the class in my eyes – physical therapy was good for this if nothing else!). Then you do a number of inner and outer thigh exercises on the floor. Between each section, you do some stretching which feels great but doesn’t really alleviate the hurt. At the end of class you do more stretching which makes your muscles cry out in little meows because they can’t get a full blown roar of relief out.

It is an effective full body class. Every single muscle between my neck to my ankles was touched on in some way or other. As I left class, I was already sore and in pain. I texted my husband that it would take me a while to walk home from class (class being only 2 blocks away); I was that wobbly. Getting down the stairs to my apartment made me look like I had debilitating arthritis. And two days later, I am still ‘ouching’ my way through various everyday motions – like getting in and out of my chair, walking, going up and down stairs; it’s so hard to go to the bathroom because my muscles hurt to squat!

My husband is chuckling at me during every step. If it weren’t so effective, I could actually kick him but I can’t move my legs to do that. I’ve stretched to assist in the pain relief but it seems to no difference. This is the exact same effect it had when I took the class during pregnancy. The only difference is that I, of course, don’t have the belly to deal with and my face looked a lot thinner in those mirrors you have to look at throughout class. But let me tell you, when they say it’s incredibly good at changing your muscles, I can’t help but agree. Mostly because I can’t move the muscles that would make me shake my head to say no.

Friday, March 1, 2013

Stomach Pangs

Lately I have been trying to eat more veggies and fruits because 1) they are good for me 2) I like them 3) This is my Lenten promise (I won’t call it a Lenten sacrifice because it’s not one in my opinion. It might be for others but not for me).


I’ve found a little place near work that has really yummy side dishes that are quite cheap. I’ve had a lot of brussel sprouts because they are in season and happen to be very good. (And yes, I like brussel sprouts!) As yummy as they are, they create some issues with my stomach. After I eat them, my tummy makes these strange noises like a creaky old door that needs a spritz of some oil in the hinges. It isn’t painful but people can hear it. I often have to excuse the noises because they are THAT loud.

Although it does put me in an awkward position, it’s worth it to get all these good veggies even if it sounds like my stomach is a haunted house. Maybe that is the Lenten sacrifice, dealign with the consequences of my actions.  Eat the greens but run the risk of sounding like an old floor being walked on.

Back in the Saddle

Last night I finally went back to exercise after almost 6 months off. The last time I went to the gym was the morning my daughter was born and honestly I was feeling very atrophied. I can’t say I felt lumpy because I’ve been incorporating my daughter into exercising in some way – long walks, doing squats with her in my arms, dancing with her etc. I really missed the endorphin kick.


So I decided to go to a spinning class. I actually hadn’t done a spinning class for a year and a half. But I knew that if I went to a spinning class, it would definitely get my adrenaline pumping and it would provide a good workout. I actually tried a different kind of spinning class than I was used to. Normally I would go to a room full of bikes with an instructor and we’d just ride for 45 minutes simulating uphill climbs and sprints. This class had that element but there were two new pieces to it. One piece is that there was a device on the side of the bike that would tell me how many revolutions per minute(rpm) I was doing, how much resistance I had on the bike and the power I was putting into the workout at that specific moment and cumulatively through the class. The second element that was new was that there were weight bars on the side of the bike. We would use those weights for our arms during cool down to get some extra muscle development and heart pumping ability into the workout.

When I got to the gym, I was handed bike shoes that had clips on the bottom. These would snap into special pedals on the bike so that your feet wouldn’t slip out. I’ve used them before but they are a bit awkward to walk around in. Then I had some issues with the locker. No matter how many times I set my combination into the door, it didn’t shut. Finally I called someone over to help. Turned out it wasn’t me but that the locker was defective. Phew! Then I went into the room and set up my bike.

The instructor welcomed me as a ‘new’ rider and then we were off. I really did miss that movement of my legs pumping up and down like a piston. I found I wasn’t quite getting up to the rpms the instructor suggested. No matter how fast I went, I couldn’t get to that number. Oh well, I thought. The important part is that I am here. It felt good until it didn’t. I got a stitch in my side which reminded me I needed to breathe deeper and into the discomfort. After some time it went away but then the ride became harder and I thought my female parts were going to implode. I really should have worn my padded bike shorts or gotten a cushion (note for next time).

I found myself looking at my watch and wondering when the class was going to be over because I was already hurting. Then we finally slowed down to do the arm exercises. The saving grace of the class in many ways was the music the instructor selected. I liked all of it and I sang along which helped the time go by a little faster (despite my peaking at my wrist). She even had a U2 song so that was a big plus in my book.

After the class you can log into the company’s website and view your performance which includes your average rpms and speed as well as your maximums. It also tells you a range of how many calories you burned. Seeing that totally psyched me up to go again. Now I just have to figure out how I can continue to go to the gym and get back to my 5 times a week consistency before I had my daughter.