Note to Self

Why can't you remember that wine is not your friend? Stick to beer, you know what to expect from beer. Feeling really special today.

Can Someone Tell Me Why

While sitting on a nicely air-conditioned train this evening (on a relatively mild, low-70s, day) I all of a sudden became so unrelentingly hot that I felt that I would surely burst into flames at any second? Don't tell me it's hormones, please don't tell me it's hormones. I know, I know, it's probably hormones. UGH!

I don't know why I can't make myself remember how good I feel after exercising

Had a very pleasant Spinning class last night -- I really like the Thursday night class. Thursdays instructor really does a very well-rounded class (there is a little bit of everything), I always come out of there feeling like I've had a great workout, yet her class is not so overwhelming that I dread it. I wish she taught on some other nights at that location. Spinning was followed by two cold beers at a local bar. I think we showed incredible restraint.

On an unrelated note:

I have been struggling for months writing SQL queries to pull data for many of these reports I've been writing for one of my Business Intelligence projects -- I have had no class in SQL query writing, nor do I even have a book, so it's been a real struggle, especially as the table structure for this one project is very complicated (and more complicated than it needs to be, I might add -- and I'm not the only one who thinks so, but now we're getting into politics so whatever). Anyway, I've been trying to write some SQL functions not even knowing the syntax (and I've been doing okay considering) but this morning, finally, in desperation I went to a director in my group and asking if anyone here has a "freaking SQL book on query writing?????" and he says, no, but everyone just uses this great online book that comes with the Query Analyzer. Uh, huh??? Now I don't know if I should feel incredibly stupid for not discovering this great tool that has been at my disposal for all these months, or angry & bitter that no one has told me about it (because, believe me, I've been complaining about not even being allowed to take a class in this stuff). And here I am doing random Google searches every day trying to sniff out examples of what I need and I had this resource on my desktop here all along. Anyway, either way I feel like a total idiot. Duh!!!

Finally

The oppressive, stifling heat in the North East has finally broken! I feel like a new person. Seriously.

Putting Things into Perspective

After my whiney post last week about being snubbed by some women in my department at work, I received a phone call from a former friend of mine (S) who wanted to let me know about some parties that were happening over the weekend out in the suburban NJ town where I grew up. The parties were all surrounding my high school reunion which she assumed that I already knew about. I didn't (nor did I care to know).

So, S and I used to be pretty good friends, but over the years we have drifted apart because of our different lifestyles and circumstances. She is a stay-at-home mom living in the suburban town where we grew up and I, well, am not. S was also the type of overly-dramatic friend that used to gravitate to me (or did I gravitate to these kinds of friends? I've never been able to figure it out). I'm the quiet, shy, introverted sort. I tend to be somewhat socially retarded. However, I have found myself many times in my life with these extremely extroverted friends. The kind of people who must have major drama going on in their lives or they're not happy. S was probably the most extreme example of this. She couldn't just have a boyfriend, but would have to have an abusive, jealous boyfriend who she was sneaking around on. She didn't just have a job, but a job where her boss was hitting on her, and where she was being sabotaged by everyone else in the place. She didn't just have a husband, she had a husband with Mafia ties who would kill her (literally) if she tried to leave. I could tell stories about visiting her in NJ at the house she shared with her former (Mafiosi-wannabe) husband and having to sneak out of the house, rolling the car down the driveway to meet some other guy at a club, she ditching me there as soon as she hooked up with the guy. Even up until a few years ago I could have a conversation with her on the phone for over an hour and hang up realizing that I had never even said one word about myself or about what was going on with me (not that it was ever much in comparison to her drama). It was an exhausting friendship and one that I just did not have the energy to cultivate, finally. We never had a falling out, but I just allowed things to fade. I handled it very immaturely by not returning phone calls, not letting her know when I was going to be in the area, etc. Kind of the way you allow a romantic relationship that is not clicking to fade away. I've found in my friendships like this (and there have been others) that it becomes very one-sided, that it is all about the one person. I look up one day and realize that I don't have a life, that I'm living vicariously through the drama of the other person. Anyway, I decided at some point that these kinds of friendships generally aren't healthy for me and so, I just decided to gently let go of my friendship with S. We still will talk on the phone from time to time, and I feel no need to hurt her by declaring that I no longer want to be friends. I think by now she's realized that we live completely different lives.

Anyway, a couple of years ago she called me after a long period of time of no communication at all. In the couple of years since I had last spoken with her, she had been through a breast cancer diagnosis, chemotherapy, radiation, masectomy. Basically, she had been through Hell. Her life had become a real drama of the kind no one ever wants to experience. In our conversation on Friday she revealed to me that she had recently been to the Mayo clinic to consult about possibly having some reconstructive surgery done, but that it turned out to be impossible because her masectomy was so radical (basically there is no muscle at all left on the chest wall). She remained (always) very upbeat about it all, thankful that she is here. That is one thing I have to say about S, she always was very upbeat and energetic. That call from her on Friday really put my petty little problems with the personalities at work into perspective. So, there are people who don't like me here, there are far worse things in life. They can have their clique, I enjoy my work here and have a good working relationship with the people who matter. More importantly, I'm healthy and have options in what directions I can go in life. Life could be far, far worse.

ARGH!

So Sick of This High School Shit!

 

My group at work used to be such a congenial bunch. Everyone was friendly and helpful, we routinely all went out to lunch together or out for drinks after work. My best-friend-for-life Sandra worked here and there were a couple of other female colleagues with whom I was pretty friendly. The rest of the group was men and we all got along and functioned well as a team. Well, more and more the dynamics of this group has deteriorated. I blog about it a little bit from time to time. I’ve finally gotten to the point where I just put my head down and work with as little interaction with the people around here as possible. I talk to a couple of people in the group when I need to for work-related stuff, but that’s about it. There is a new generation of women in this department now who are some combination of bitchy and silly. They group together and spend a lot of time at each others’ desks whispering and gossiping and bullshitting and they band together like a high school clique. I hate these kinds of games and pretty much refuse to play, plus I think it’s completely unprofessional (you don’t see men doing that kind of crap around here). When presented with this cliquish attitude I tend to retreat even more into my introverted nature. This morning I was in the pantry on our floor making my cereal. A couple of these chicks came in and no one said a word to me. A third one joined them who did say hello to me and chit-chatted for a second (she is also one from the “old” generation when the group still operated as a team). The Giggler came in and joined the clutch of tittering and BSing. Then the one chick pulls out some Tupperware and starts cutting up some cheesecake that she brought in to share and starts offering it around to everyone. To everyone except me. It was so glaringly obvious that I was being completely snubbed. I don’t really care about the stupid cheesecake, but it’s just the principle of being so blatantly excluded that really gets under my skin. I feel so demoralized by it all, I feel like I’m invisible around here sometimes.

 

 

Yeowch!

Went Spinning tonight and I mustn't have ever worn the shorts I brought with me spinning before because they caused me to chafe in places you don't ever want to chafe -- GAH! Sadly, there was no beer after spinning tonight either. Good workout anyway.

Wistful

 

Chrissy has been regaling me for the past week or so with stories of a couple with whom she is friends who are moving to the Upper Westside of Manhattan next month. They found an apartment, were approved and are now all excited with anticipation. It all just makes me so incredibly jealous and wistful for my old Upper Westside life. Since she’s told me about this, I find myself in my free time scouring both the NYTimes.com Real Estate section and my own personal finances hoping to see something that would make such a move possible. It’s a pipe-dream of course. I just don’t know if I could ever justify that amount of money spent on an apartment (a rental, no less) even if all of my debt was completely paid off. Maybe if I was making significantly more money. I do know that I could not go back to living in the same broke-ass, desperate state I was in the last time I lived in Manhattan. It sure would be nice to live close to Central Park again though.

Testing my Blog-by-Email set up. Weee!!!!

HEAT!!!

After a great nights sleep, I got up a little early and took Lola the Pug for a bit of a walk this morning. I didn't really know what to expect for the weather since I had had my air-conditioning on all night and had not turned on the news, prior to leaving, but once we were outside, the heat and swampy humidity hit me like a ton of bricks. UGH! This is The Most dreaded weather for me. Still, I took Lola on a nice, brisk walk up to Forest Park and up and down a couple of the hills inside the park, before turning around and coming home. All together we probably did around two miles (all just walking, no running). Once we stopped walking, my pores opened up and the sweat just started pouring out of me. I took a lukewarm shower, blasted my A/C, took my time getting ready and gave myself some extra time to walk to the train station in an effort not to aggravate that over-heated feeling too much. Luckily the train was nice and cool and I don't have to walk anywhere from Penn Station. Now I'm going to sip cold water for awhile and try to cool down. I hate this stinking heat.

Spinning Again -- yeah

Ellen, Ken and I, by consensus, have decided to eschew
Evil Spinning Instructor (the Tuesday night class we used to go to) and so I decided to meet them for a spin tonight. Ellen had taken this class last week and said that it was good and I felt like it was a good way to start off the week, especially on such a muggy day where I was going to be hard pressed to talk myself into schlepping around outside for any length of time after work. Well. I couldn't believe how tough this class was! There was literally no break at all. We just kept climbing and increasing pace, and increasing pace and climbing. You could have wrung me out like a wet rag by the end of the class. It was oddly satisfying. Ellen said afterwards (when I commented on the "no break" thing), "oh yeah. I forgot to tell you about that." Sheesh!

The Summer Lovers

This morning I was in the pantry at work making my cereal and I was talking to a co-worker. There was also this chick in the room cutting up her grapefruit. This is the conversation that ensued:

C-W (to me): "Hi Deb, how are you?"
Me: "Hi, I'm okay and you? Oh you're probably loving life, this is your weather!" (I know that he loves Summer -- he's also originally from one of the Caribbean islands).
C-W: "Yep, I love it, and I know you hate it."
Me: "Yeah, I hate Summer."
Chick: (pipes up, completely incredulous) "You HATE it? How can anyone hate this weather???!!!
Me: "Well, I just hate being hot. It's the humidity that gets to me, if it wasn't for that, I wouldn't mind so much. Besides, in New York, there's no escaping the heat, with all the pavement everywhere, etc."
C-W: "Well, maybe (Summer in) NY is not for you." No kidding.

The chick then just goes on & on ranting to my co-worker about how she can't believe that anyone wouldn't just love this weather. I could hear her going on about it as I walked down the hallway away from the pantry. What is the big, freaking deal? I prefer Fall and Spring in NYC, so sue me. Why does everyone have to be just. like. you. Besides, if I were tall and statuesque (like her) and looked great in a tank top and short, ruffly skirt (what she was wearing) I might just love Summer too. As it is, I'm short and tubby and have horrible arms that I can't stand to show and I sweat a lot. I do like the long days and hours of sunlight, however.

Hot Summer Saturday

I was supposed to get up this morning, get myself together, get on a train and meet Ellen in Chelsea for a spinning class. Well, that didn't happen -- tossed & turned for a long time last night and woke up with a horrific, pounding headache (and, no, I was not drinking last night -- not one drop). So, in lieu of the spinning class, I waited until this afternoon and brought Lola to Forest Park for a long walk/jog. It was very hot today, mid to upper 80s with some amount of humidity, probably the hottest day so far this year. I wore my heartrate monitor and brought an ice cold bottle of water for Lola. We went for a few miles (somewhere in the neighborhood of 3 to 4) on the hiking and bridle trails of the Park. I allowed Lola off the leash for the parts on the hiking trails and she was very good and stayed right on my heels, regardless of whether the leash was on or not. For the portion of our outing that we were in the Park (the walk up there & back was warm-up & cool-down) I concentrated on keeping my heartrate between 135 and 155. When I was at 134/136 I would run, when I got up to 155 or so, I would walk. Of course, even just walking at a good clip up some of the steeper hills caused the HR to spike. Anyway, all in all, it actually felt like a good workout. Lola seems pretty tired now too, and a tired dog is a happy dog.

Getting Old

Okay so after spinning last night, Ellen, Ken and I went for a beer at this divey bar near Penn Station where we like to go. We haven't all seen each other in a while and we wanted to catch up, so we ended up having three pints each. I came home and sat around and drank this huge bottle of water before going to bed. So, why do I now feel like I was out drinking for half the night? Three light beers would have been like water to me a few years ago -- gah! Seriously getting old.

It's a Miracle

I actually went spinning tonight. And, yes, there was beer afterwards. heh.

I know that this will sound weird but...

I am almost glad to be back to work today. After three days of laziness and lonliness, it's actually kind of nice to be back to a schedule and some good productive work. I must be nuts.

Old Busybody

There is this old woman who lives in my building who is always in everyones' business. She has lived in this building since the 40s (yes, since WWII) and thinks she knows everyone and everything. I can't stand her. Every year she shows up at our co-op meeting (because some owner or another decides not to come and has given their proxy to her to vote) and, even though she's a renter (rent-controlled, three-bedroom apartment, probably paying half what I pay to live in a two-room studio), she has to speak up throughout the entire meeting with her opinions, suggestions and complaints. Many times bringing up her own apartment issues (sorry, this is an owner's meeting, we are not here for your stupid agenda, so shut the F up). Anyway, so I was taking Lola out for a walk this afternoon and she was standing by the side of the building talking to Sam, our super. Lola always likes to stop and say "hi" to Sam, since she loves him (and he, her), so of course we stop. Well then the old witch has to start exclaiming about how fat Lola is. Loudly and animatedly. Then she has to argue with me that I must be feeding her too much and also feeding her scraps from the table. First of all, it's none of your damn business what I do with my own damn dog. Secondly, how dare you practically accuse me of something that A) I don't do, and B) it's none of your business, if I did. And lastly, I know that my dog could use to lose a few pounds, but the last time we were at the vet (a few weeks ago) she was actually the same weight that she had been a year ago, so she actually is not any heavier at all. What she probably wanted to say was that I had gotten fat. The freaking old, nosy, bitch. I should have said, "wow, it really looks like you got very old this Winter". This is one of the reasons why I prefer dogs to most people. Stupid old crone.

Working Whirlwind

Things have been crazy for me at work for the last couple of months, crazy in mostly a good way. I have basically gotten (without exaggeration) about six months worth of work done in about two months. I had a status meeting late yesterday afternoon with two users on one of my projects and they were thrilled with the progress, so that was a big relief. My other huge project that wrapped up on May 13th was a big success and those users were very happy as well. All of a sudden after my meeting yesterday, I looked in my project queue and realized that I've basically finished all of my work, there is nothing much staged to be next. Nothing very interesting anyway. It's sort of a weird feeling. I know that there will be plenty of new things to come my way shortly, but in the interim I have a little window of a breather. I actually don't really like it much, I prefer to be busy and feel like I'm making a solid contribution. This would have been a good time to schedule a vacation. Oh well.

Related to the work thing... Luminita called me the other day with information about various head hunters who have been calling people in her group looking for people who have experience in Business Intelligence using our products. Basically what I have years of experience in and what I've lately been spending probably 90% of my time on and what is, really, my forte. The one specific position she mentioned is working for a major bank/financial corporation and the salary was in the neighborhood of 40K more than I am making here. That's $40,000. More. Yikes. Maybe it really is time to brush up the resume and buy some interviewing clothes.

Yikes!

I was just in line behind someone at the Duane Reade who was buying $120 worth of cigarettes. One Hundred and Twenty Dollars. Yikes!

More on Idiots and Stupidity

I forgot the very best part from the story of the police catching the moronic rapist in my town. Apparently, they located the house where he was living and were let into the illegal basement apartment. The house was surrounded with every flavor of cop (remember, the victim had connections) and so here they all come into the room with all their riot gear, etc. The guy is in the room and hiding. On his bed. Under the sheet on top. It just cracks me up, I can picture this guy hiding under a sheet on his bed like a child thinking no one is going to see him! You'd think he would at least have crawled under the bed.


Another idiot last Saturday. I was walking my dog down the street and there is someone walking behind me that I could hear crunching voraciously away on some potato chips. He passes me and shortly afterward tosses his potato chip bag on the ground. GRRRRRRRRRR!
So, sick of issues like this affecting the quality of life around here, I call out to him, "Hey! You dropped something! Pick it up!"
And so he starts yelling, "It's just Goddamn Garbage!"
me (at this point practically screeching): "Yeah, and that's what garbage cans are for! Look there is one right there" (gesturing to one a mere few feet away)
The kid is grumbling, but picks it up and does throw it away. Of course, by now I'm ranting away -- "I mean, look at this place! " (gesturing around the trash littering the ground) "people live here, who wants to look at everyone's trash everywhere... " and on and on. I'll bet that moron will think twice before littering again. If for no other reason than for fear of invoking the rantings of another crazy person like me.