Archive for December, 2010
Here’s your $100, D-man.
DδΨξΘω?
This is the first time in my life I’ve lived in a building with a reliable super. When he shows up, he gets shit done. And with a smile. This is new for me. Most of my experiences in NYC housing have been pulling teeth with a cheap and mean/rude/abusive landlord. (One time, I called my former landlord when the electricity went out. His reply? “It’s night time, what do you need electricity for? Go to sleep.”) But now, I have a great super. He’s good with elevator chit-chat and he’s fast with a drill. And thus, he deserves to be thanked at end-of-year-holiday-thanking time.
But alas, there’s one thing about him that sucks. I have no idea what his name is. Well, I can say it, sort of, I just can’t spell it. And without knowing that, it’s hard to drop $100 into a personalized card — it just feels awkward. It’s either Dimitri, Demitri, Demetri, Demetrius, or Demitre. Or something like that. And there’s no way to find out. This year I thought we’d found our answer when we got a holiday card from him. Finally! It was signed, I swear, “Super and family” — no names. He’s like a spy or something.
How bad is it to get a greeting card with your name completely misspelled? Does the $100 soften the blow? I think I’ll just fill out the card, “Roger, happy holidays to you and yours.” That way, I’m so far off that it’s funny and he’ll think I’m being a kooky kook. Good plan, right? Who doesn’t love a kooky kook card with cash in it?
The 9 to 5.
It’s officially been six months since I’ve had an office job. Here are the pros and cons as I see them.
Pros: Each day is my own. I am my own boss. I control the dress code, the sexual harassment policy, the vacation schedule, the company holiday card and the coffee break timetable. It’s all mine and there’s a sense of satisfaction that comes with knowing that the money I earn is earned doing what I love doing and what I am meant to be doing. Each day my hands move toward the goal of making myself completely aligned and in flow with my ultimate purpose. It’s enormously satisfying and fulfilling.
Cons: I don’t drink as much water as I used to.
That’s how I see it. Now, back to work.
With friends like this, who needs frenemies?
Recently, I was hanging out with three “friends” and the topic of cosmetic surgery came up. Here is how the conversation went. This conversation was rapid-fire after the first sentence.
Carrie: A friend of mine got a minor procedure done and I never thought I would say it, but the results are amazing and I might want it done, too. She just looks so good.
Friend #1: What is it? Botox for the lines on your forehead?
Friend #2: Teeth whitening for your discolored and yellow teeth?
Friend #3: Or Invisalign to correct the crookedness?
Carrie: No.
F1: An arm tuck for the flapping sagging skin on your upper arms?
Carrie: No. What the fuck, you guys.
F2: Liposuction for the jiggle around your tummy, ass and thighs?
F3: Skin bleaching for your disgusting freckles?
Carrie: No. Alright, I get it guys. Come on.
F1: Nose slimming for the chunky end of your nose?
F2: Crescent breast lift for your sagging boobs?
Carrie: What? Really? No.
F3: Filler for the lines around your mouth?
F2: Eyelid fat reduction for those drooping eyelids?
Carrie: Is that even a thing? No.
And so on.
Oh, how they laughed and laughed at my plummeting self-esteem. Good stuff.