if you don't hear from me after sunday, it means i've been taken.

tomorrow is the first day of my first con, which is what people in the comic book industry insist on calling their comic book conventions. okay, to be fair, i haven't exactly gone out of my way not to use the term, but it seems grandiose. anyway, i'll be hauling ass all the way to the javits center, which, to my mind, might as well be in effing jersey (just kidding! leave it where it is!) it's so far west. ugh. of course, if it were being held a month later i could probably bike there in half the time it will take me to subway and walk there, but... whatevs. i was just about to write "but i'm not complaining," but that's so blatantly untrue that i had to refrain.

to update you on charliedom... things are strange and good and tiring all at once. my grip of time is akin to holding water in my hands, slipping away before i really know what's going on. i'm going to bed earlier and earlier... pretty soon i'll be beating anna to bed (i actually did so once already... go figure). the worst thing, of course, is that my job is so physically unintensive that i feel like i have no excuse for wanting nothing more than a book in bed at 9:30 (haha, 9:30...). that does nothing to stop me from doing it.

working life is strange. aside from the exhaustion, the routine of it is so foreign and seductive and comfortable. i already prepare a thermos of coffee for myself every morning and drink it at my desk (slowly, so as not to get aciddy whatchamacallit) and have been to the gym before work three or four times. what? who is this person that i have so quickly become?

i will report that on the workout front, i've had to take it easy, due to splitting headaches i've been getting while doing the weight lifting machines. yes, all right, please go and have a titter at the idea of me and a weight lifting machine, bulking up, blah blah. hilarious. anyway, they come on suddenly and last for almost an hour, and they blow. speaking of, the last time i was getting said headaches was when i was dating dave, and (hold on, just a second: mom? dad? anna? you guys aren't reading this, are you? good...) i'd get them right after, well, orgasm (sorry, i'm feeling medical and blunt). needless to say, this put a bit of a damper on the sex, and i started getting freaked out that i had some sort of nate fisher-like head injury or something. of course, a cursory bit of internet research indicates that it's probably just stress, which is lame (not when compared to an avm, no, but) because i'm so bad at destressing... usually, i just stay stressed until school ends (or, i guess, i come down with mono... but that's neither hither nor thither). active destressing is something altogether unfathomable for me.

one thing i've found to be quite nice about work is that it totally structures the time you spend with friends, and makes it precious. since sunday i've hung out--almost systematically--with kamili and beth, amalea, bronnie and kate. amalea and i saw this movie the spirit of the bees, which in some ways is a cousin of pan's labyrinth but operating on a much, much more subtle level (i.e., no one sews their own face shut), with some unbelievably beautiful shots. i then proceeded on sunday evening, right after, to watch stay, this horrible film with Ewan MacGregor and Ryan Gosling (and Naomi Watts and Janeane Garofolo and that dude from who framed roger rabbit? ) and was so incoherent and frayed and meandering that beth, kamili and i had to keep checking in with one another to ensure that none of us were, in fact, hallucinating. then last night, drinks and dinner with kate and bronnie; a blast from the high school past that was at once humorous and totally relaxing. and where normally i'd just be like "hey, that was fun," here i was like "man, it's so great to just be able to be yourself and not have to think about every fucking word that comes out of your mouth lest you accidentally offend a writer or artist or moneyperson... UGH!"

all right. i'm out. i still have to figure out if my co-worker's are reading my blog so i can make more than just innocuous comments about how work has totally changed my life, blah blah BLAH.

peace

hello.

my weekends are getting progressively lazier. yesterday, saturday, i hung out with julia in the morning (she'd stayed over the night before), went to my sister's school play in the afternoon (i kid you not, it was a rock-musical adaptation of shakespeare's richard iii), had some drinks and a futile city-search for trivial pursuit with sam in the evening, and then hit up wogie's with bronnie and simone at night. okay, well, that doesn't sound lazy, but it sure as hell felt it.

today i woke up and met my parents and sister at little poland, where we had lunch between my sister's swimming lesson and her basketball practice at the 14th street y, which is a jewish y(mca?)  and then went to the comic book shop to pick up some titles by a new writer we're going to work with... unfortunately, all i could remember  was his name... not the name of any of his titles, and sadly, it seems that all comic books are always organized by title, and are difficult to find by author. so i gave up and came home. now i remember all of the names (okay, the internet helped me remember) and i'm contemplating going back, despite the defeatism that would inure in me.

something weird is going on with this text box...

anyway, starting soon i'm thinking i might make the blog private. i know, it sounds dorky and paranoid, and i feel like i'm being somewhat self-important, but the other day at work, mackenzie and sana (an editorial assistant) were talking about how our blogs will be found and read if we have them, and i find that extremely limiting, mostly because i can't bitch about work. moreover, the real purpose of this blog (i think anyway) is for me to stay in touch with my friziends, and i don't feel like too much of an asshole saying who gets to read and who doesn't, you know? well, i guess we'll have to wait and see how difficult that whole process is. blah.

okay. that was a singularly boring post. i beg forgiveness.

later.

friday. man. thank the sweet lord jesus.

winding down the final hours before i go home... and maybe go out again. i can't quite figure it out, but around 2:30 today all the steam just went right out of me. i was writing things that a few seconds later i hadn't realized i'd written. what? shouldn't i have to have a few drinks before i get to this stage? apparently not.

anyway. still waiting on my paycheck... theoretically, it's in a fedex envelope somewhere between here and california, from whence it was cut. will it arrive before i go home? who knows?

i had a pretty fun evening last night. after work, i went for a few pints with gaurav, who works in my office... see? i'm making new friends. afterwards i joined molly and julia at benny's burritos, cousin to harry's, for burritos and margaritas, and then we went to molly's girlfriend smolly's apartment to play belle and sebastian songs on the guitar and sing along and mourn the passing of anna nicole, whom i totally didn't recognize in the newspaper this morning. weird.

sadly, i don't think i can muster any sympathy. does it make me a heartless bastard? probably. i'm sure if i wanted to, i could find a picture of her now-motherless daughter and find some tears or what-not. but let's be honest: she was someone who was famous for not really doing anything in particular.

then again, it somehow seems prudent not to be an asshole about the dead. it's 6:45 and i'm still at work. i'll have more to say later.

later.

i'm waiting for something to download from india. you'd think that i'd be satisfied that it takes only ten minutes for a large file to travel 10,000 miles (that works out to 1,000 miles a minute, pretty fast, right?), but no. i'm impatient. 

though i knew it was never going to happen, my last attempt at convincing my boss to send me to san francisco for the comic book convention happening there in early march was officially kiboshed, and that makes me sad. jetblue is having a ridiculous sale, $218 round trip to oakland, and i'd love an excuse to go. although, at that price, i could probably make a case for a three day weekend, or something... leave a thursday night, fly red-eye sunday night? that'd be some hardcore quality time. *sigh*. more like *SIGH*.

why is work so worky, i ask. tuesdays are especially strange, as are fridays, because i'm the only person from editorial in the office. the little cluster of editorial desks is empty, and mine happens to face away from the rest of the office, towards the wall, so it looks like i'm being a pompous asshole and ignoring everybody, when really, i'm just a pompous asshole whose desk faces the wall.

all right. my download is done. my life is gripping. actually, i am about to proofread the balloons on a comic book, and that is kind of gripping. 

later, gators.

hey all. i put the blogger widget on my work desktop last week in the hopes that it would inspire me to write more. ha. the precipitating event was my fears that i was slowly (no, wait, rapidly) turning into a yuppie. i realized these fears on friday morning. i woke up early and went to the gym, since i'm paying for the gym membership through the nose. it was strange. i tried to put a little food in my system beforehand, and made the mistake of going for a kashi bar, which made me feel sick through my entire workout. as i left the gym, showered and ready for work, i realized i was hungry again, but i didn't have any cereal or anything; it was then that i saw the jamba juice. i ordered a wee one with extra vitamins and what-not... it was then, as teh lady behind the counter was handing my my styrofoam cup that it hit me. i had just gone to the gym and was getting a smoothie before going to work. i also had a thermos of coffee in my bag, and i would consume both the coffee and the smoothie at my desk. in front of my imac. 

so, it's pretty much over for me. i think you have to shoot me or something along those lines.

fortunately, i descended from yuppiedom pretty fast. work was stressful on friday (not so much today); my paycheck got misplaced, i got some "constructive criticism" from my boss right after, and had to bite my tongue and say "well, maybe i'd do shit right if you paid me on time." not that i believed that argument; it was a much more infantile impulse. then, at dinner, i had a nice shouting match with my dad over the dishes. yep, it only took me some twelve-odd hours to go from yuppie to teenager. regression is sweet.

all right, well, that'll do for now. i'm trying to make this a habit, but we all know it won't last...