I know I haven't written in a while, but I've decided to try out tumblr. New outlet, maybe it'll inspire me in a way I haven't been for awhile.
http://knx2011.tumblr.com
Not familiar with it enough to tell you how to follow, but you'll all figure it out.
Kerry
Friday, May 20, 2011
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
A relief, in a way
This week, RG, the founding partner at my firm made an announcement via email before he headed off to Italy for vacation: we were all to return to full time starting Monday, November 15th. A wave of mixed emotions flowed through the office; on one hand, returning to full time work meant a return to a full time paycheck, but three day weekends every week have been really enjoyable. This all started the Thursday before the July 4th weekend in 2009, and for the most part, I'm glad it's over.
For one, it means there is stability in my work. In the last 16 months, moral in the office has been up and down. The lowest point was when the re-hired a very senior staff person for a project that ended up stagnating, and they've kept him around. There have been many times where I have had nothing to do, and worried how long that could continue. Recently this has changed, as I'm becoming busy having three projects to work on; it was getting to the point where I was going to have to say something because I knew to do my job, I was going to have to work a full week anyway. Glad I didn't have to deal with that conversation with my bosses.
I've looked back at my blog post from July 6th, 2009, talking about how I was going to save money. I did stop shopping at Whole Foods for a while, but since my digestive issues have returned, I went back. I found that sticking to the 365 WF generic brand was about as much as shopping at the local market in my neighborhood anyway. The forbearance on my loans ended four months ago. Over the last 16 months, my parents have been helping me pay them anyway, they did not want me to take a break from paying them since the interest would continue to accumulate (I now owe them for what they've paid). Surprisingly, since I was on a limited budget, I was able to plan ways to save money. I will need to continue how I've thought about savings when I do have the extra money, I've estimated it will be an increase of about $1000 post taxes. Most of that will need to go towards my 401K, which I have not contributed to for the last 16 months. Luckily, my firm never cut out their contribution to our accounts, so something has been going in.
For one, it means there is stability in my work. In the last 16 months, moral in the office has been up and down. The lowest point was when the re-hired a very senior staff person for a project that ended up stagnating, and they've kept him around. There have been many times where I have had nothing to do, and worried how long that could continue. Recently this has changed, as I'm becoming busy having three projects to work on; it was getting to the point where I was going to have to say something because I knew to do my job, I was going to have to work a full week anyway. Glad I didn't have to deal with that conversation with my bosses.
I've looked back at my blog post from July 6th, 2009, talking about how I was going to save money. I did stop shopping at Whole Foods for a while, but since my digestive issues have returned, I went back. I found that sticking to the 365 WF generic brand was about as much as shopping at the local market in my neighborhood anyway. The forbearance on my loans ended four months ago. Over the last 16 months, my parents have been helping me pay them anyway, they did not want me to take a break from paying them since the interest would continue to accumulate (I now owe them for what they've paid). Surprisingly, since I was on a limited budget, I was able to plan ways to save money. I will need to continue how I've thought about savings when I do have the extra money, I've estimated it will be an increase of about $1000 post taxes. Most of that will need to go towards my 401K, which I have not contributed to for the last 16 months. Luckily, my firm never cut out their contribution to our accounts, so something has been going in.
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Sea time
This year marked my five year anniversary on Pioneer, and I decided it was time to count up my sea time. It also has been the year I was promoted to relief mate, and I did not want to see that advance as the apex of my sailing career; I needed to look forward to what was next. Over two days I poured through the Pioneer logs dating back to 2005, and did some accounting of my time so far. I haven't tallied it up yet, but I'm hoping that by the end of next season, I'll be able to have the 180 days for a mate's license.
As I was looking through the logs, I wanted to tie dates to certain memories that I have on the boat. There is a certain tedium of looking through five years of logs, endless pages of different handwriting, some good, some really atrocious. I had to find some way of entertaining myself.
July 16, 2005: My first training sail. I had found the boat through a co-worker at Rafael Vinoly Architects, Elaine. She had organized a charter for our office at the end of a substantial deadline, and I went along. I don't remember the exact date of the charter, but it was in June. One of the crew members kept talking to Elaine and I, he mostly trying to convince me that I just had to come and volunteer. I had never sailed before, thought I was completely unqualified, but figured I'd give it a try. I was looking for something else to do outside of work; at the time, I felt that work was all I talked about. I guess that's what happens when you're somewhere 10-12 hours a day.
September 17, 2005: the Mayor's Cup. I was not on this sail, but it's become legendary - t-shirts have been made in tribute. The incident report was in the log, and it was interesting to read an account of the collision. Briefly, it goes something like this: "Schooner Adirondack collides into starboard side of vessel abeam race boat. No serious injuries, 2 stantions bent, lifelines parted."
May 27th, 2006: The first time I was on the boat with Barbee and Tom, two people who have become very important to me. In looking back, I remember each of them being on the boat, but my memory doesn't have them together.
August 13, 2006: My first day back on the boat in eight weeks. I had sprained my ankle in June of that year playing soccer, and really screwed it up trying to play tennis the next day. The doctor had told me that I really needed to stay off of it for six weeks, and that turned into eight weeks away from Pioneer. After the sail, a couple of us went to Fresh Salt. It was the first day I'd spent a lot of time on my feet, my ankle was sore, and Tommy, the mate, offered to give me a foot massage. Barbee was also on this sail, and I gave him the impression that I was a cold person. I didn't know him very well, and have always been reserved around people (especially men) that I don't know.
2007 Season: This was the year that I started sailing more regularly, and Barbee became my mentor. Lots of memories, lots of training - too much to list here. This was also the season I became more confident about my skills.
May 24, 2008: During the week before, Magno, the chief mate at the time, called and asked if I could be deckhand for one of the evening sails that week. I told him that I wasn't a deckhand yet, and he told me that something needed to be done about that. On this training sail a couple of days later, Fielding and Captain Glenn Mariano ran me ragged, having me complete almost the entire deckhand checklist in one sail. After the sail, Magno asked how things went, and whether I was interested in the position. It's what I had been working towards, so of course I said yes. I was physically spent, and went to Fresh Salt and had a huge pile of pancakes, completely content.
May 30, 2008: My first sail as a deckhand. Captain Malcolm Martin was at the helm for that sail.
September 12, 2009: There had been a lot of talk of when I was going to be promoted to mate as I was almost done with my checklist. On this sail, Tom was mate, and decided to give me the opportunity to be acting mate for the sail.
August 11, 2010: Captain Richard Dorfman had called me on August 2nd to offer me the promotion to mate, and this was my first sail in that position. My first sail was scheduled to be on Friday the 13th, but the mate on the 11th was sick, so I filled in.
As I was looking through the logs, I wanted to tie dates to certain memories that I have on the boat. There is a certain tedium of looking through five years of logs, endless pages of different handwriting, some good, some really atrocious. I had to find some way of entertaining myself.
July 16, 2005: My first training sail. I had found the boat through a co-worker at Rafael Vinoly Architects, Elaine. She had organized a charter for our office at the end of a substantial deadline, and I went along. I don't remember the exact date of the charter, but it was in June. One of the crew members kept talking to Elaine and I, he mostly trying to convince me that I just had to come and volunteer. I had never sailed before, thought I was completely unqualified, but figured I'd give it a try. I was looking for something else to do outside of work; at the time, I felt that work was all I talked about. I guess that's what happens when you're somewhere 10-12 hours a day.
September 17, 2005: the Mayor's Cup. I was not on this sail, but it's become legendary - t-shirts have been made in tribute. The incident report was in the log, and it was interesting to read an account of the collision. Briefly, it goes something like this: "Schooner Adirondack collides into starboard side of vessel abeam race boat. No serious injuries, 2 stantions bent, lifelines parted."
May 27th, 2006: The first time I was on the boat with Barbee and Tom, two people who have become very important to me. In looking back, I remember each of them being on the boat, but my memory doesn't have them together.
August 13, 2006: My first day back on the boat in eight weeks. I had sprained my ankle in June of that year playing soccer, and really screwed it up trying to play tennis the next day. The doctor had told me that I really needed to stay off of it for six weeks, and that turned into eight weeks away from Pioneer. After the sail, a couple of us went to Fresh Salt. It was the first day I'd spent a lot of time on my feet, my ankle was sore, and Tommy, the mate, offered to give me a foot massage. Barbee was also on this sail, and I gave him the impression that I was a cold person. I didn't know him very well, and have always been reserved around people (especially men) that I don't know.
2007 Season: This was the year that I started sailing more regularly, and Barbee became my mentor. Lots of memories, lots of training - too much to list here. This was also the season I became more confident about my skills.
May 24, 2008: During the week before, Magno, the chief mate at the time, called and asked if I could be deckhand for one of the evening sails that week. I told him that I wasn't a deckhand yet, and he told me that something needed to be done about that. On this training sail a couple of days later, Fielding and Captain Glenn Mariano ran me ragged, having me complete almost the entire deckhand checklist in one sail. After the sail, Magno asked how things went, and whether I was interested in the position. It's what I had been working towards, so of course I said yes. I was physically spent, and went to Fresh Salt and had a huge pile of pancakes, completely content.
May 30, 2008: My first sail as a deckhand. Captain Malcolm Martin was at the helm for that sail.
September 12, 2009: There had been a lot of talk of when I was going to be promoted to mate as I was almost done with my checklist. On this sail, Tom was mate, and decided to give me the opportunity to be acting mate for the sail.
August 11, 2010: Captain Richard Dorfman had called me on August 2nd to offer me the promotion to mate, and this was my first sail in that position. My first sail was scheduled to be on Friday the 13th, but the mate on the 11th was sick, so I filled in.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
arghh, dating
Or not. For some reason, I've gotten a lot of hits on my OK Cupid profile without doing much about it. I keep telling myself I should just take it down, it's been nearly two years, and hasn't done much but provide me with some entertaining blog posts. Some of the latest:
Christopher: Yep. 'Dangerboy' was back, probably with more tattoos than ever. A year after his last disappearance, he sent me a message over the OKC website. I should have known it was suspect; he has (or had) my email and number, and could have contacted me by other means. It took us two weeks to get together, mostly due to my reluctance to let this guy back in although I was dying of curiosity as to why he was contacting me AGAIN. After disappearing twice with only lame excuses of 'I was swamped with work' or the classic 'I was really sick.' I was half expecting, 'The dog ate my phone.' We got together for a drink, he talked about his latest schemes to create the next greatest social networking site, but in the meantime he was working in advertising on Madison Avenue for a firm that has had a mention on Mad Men. It was fun, I was still suspicious. I had to go to Syracuse for work the following week, but he said we should get together when I got back. When I returned, I was busy with other things, got back to the OKC site a couple of days later to send him a message. Shock of all shocks - his profile had been removed! I'm now convinced he's had a girlfriend all this time that he'd occasionally get bored with, and play around on OKC. She found out, and made him take down his page. Finally. I'm sure she puts up with a lot of grief from him.
Old desperate guy in his 50's: With a nickname of 'Has2CU', what can one really expect? This maybe:
"I asked the computer to find me the most amazing girl in the world and added all the things I’m looking for.
The computer came up with way to many people… so I added that the person should be able to be my best friend and that we should be able to talk about anything in trust and respect. The computer took about a week and came up with still to many people…
So I added that when I’m not near her my heart will be sad and when I look into her eyes I will know I have found my soul mate and the person to spend the rest of my life with.
The computer took two weeks and came up with you"
Made my skin crawl, in a way. Definitely made me wonder how stupid he thinks women on this site are since it was obviously some sort of sappy generic message he wrote for the masses in hopes someone would think he was actually talking to them.
Just today: Two guys in their early 30's IM'd me on the site. Didn't find out right away; brand new Android smart phone has the OKC app, and it's on all the time. One told me I was 'hot' and really wanted to get my IM address outside the site, and the other called me 'sweetie.' Really? Is this all younger men have? It's pathetic.
We'll see how much more patience I have.
Christopher: Yep. 'Dangerboy' was back, probably with more tattoos than ever. A year after his last disappearance, he sent me a message over the OKC website. I should have known it was suspect; he has (or had) my email and number, and could have contacted me by other means. It took us two weeks to get together, mostly due to my reluctance to let this guy back in although I was dying of curiosity as to why he was contacting me AGAIN. After disappearing twice with only lame excuses of 'I was swamped with work' or the classic 'I was really sick.' I was half expecting, 'The dog ate my phone.' We got together for a drink, he talked about his latest schemes to create the next greatest social networking site, but in the meantime he was working in advertising on Madison Avenue for a firm that has had a mention on Mad Men. It was fun, I was still suspicious. I had to go to Syracuse for work the following week, but he said we should get together when I got back. When I returned, I was busy with other things, got back to the OKC site a couple of days later to send him a message. Shock of all shocks - his profile had been removed! I'm now convinced he's had a girlfriend all this time that he'd occasionally get bored with, and play around on OKC. She found out, and made him take down his page. Finally. I'm sure she puts up with a lot of grief from him.
Old desperate guy in his 50's: With a nickname of 'Has2CU', what can one really expect? This maybe:
"I asked the computer to find me the most amazing girl in the world and added all the things I’m looking for.
The computer came up with way to many people… so I added that the person should be able to be my best friend and that we should be able to talk about anything in trust and respect. The computer took about a week and came up with still to many people…
So I added that when I’m not near her my heart will be sad and when I look into her eyes I will know I have found my soul mate and the person to spend the rest of my life with.
The computer took two weeks and came up with you"
Made my skin crawl, in a way. Definitely made me wonder how stupid he thinks women on this site are since it was obviously some sort of sappy generic message he wrote for the masses in hopes someone would think he was actually talking to them.
Just today: Two guys in their early 30's IM'd me on the site. Didn't find out right away; brand new Android smart phone has the OKC app, and it's on all the time. One told me I was 'hot' and really wanted to get my IM address outside the site, and the other called me 'sweetie.' Really? Is this all younger men have? It's pathetic.
We'll see how much more patience I have.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Salem the cat
So after 11 years, Salem is moving up to a new home upstate. No, that's not a euphemism, she actually is moving up to my parents' house since I unexpectedly cannot have a cat anymore.
The above photo is her shortly after I rescued her from the pound. I got her after I graduated grad school, and had moved to Brooklyn and wanted a pet. A dog was out of the question - I just wasn't home enough. I had originally had the name 'Gris Gris' in mind. There was a French movie, "Chacun cherche son chat" (When the Cat's Away) that I had enjoyed a couple of years before and thought it was a great name for a cat. When I went up to the pound in Harlem, there was a beautiful gray cat that fit the bill, but it had a mean streak. I nearly walked away petless, but there was this adorable black kitty with no eyebrows on the lowest row of cat cages, and I brought her home. I almost stuck with the name, but when I woke up the next morning, 'Salem' popped into my head, and I thought it would be funny to name her after a talking cat from a TV show.
Within days of bringing her home, she was sick. I came home from work to take her for her free visit to a vet that was included in the adoption, and she looked like that sad sick reindeer in "A Year Without a Santa Claus." The vet I took her to coldly told me that I should just return her. Optimistically thinking that the pound had a vet on staff, I followed his instructions. However, when I got her up there, the staff at the front desk were willing for me to return her. There was no vet to care for her, and when I asked what would happen to her, they flatly said that she would probably be put down. I had only had her for a week, but it broke my heart that these people saw this poor little kitten as disposable. I finally brought her to the ASPCA in tears, met with a vet who diagnosed her with an infection from her spaying operation. The vet gave me some antibiotics for her, and we were on our way.Forward 11 years to present day. Tomorrow, I'm bringing Salem up to her new home. It's my parents' house which she's somewhat familiar with, having spent some holidays up there. I'm looking around my apartment now, running a checklist of the things I need to bring: food? check. remaining litter? check. toys? check (not that she really plays, she's pretty happy just sitting around). She doesn't have that many belongings.
What happened? You may ask. It started with a laundry incident and ended with Salem getting evicted.
A couple of weeks ago, I had gotten an email from my landlord asking if I had been exchanging the laundry for cat sitting services. I had been letting a friend in the building occasionally to use the laundry, although it wasn't in exchange for anything. She lives in the neighborhood, and there's not really anywhere nearby to do your own laundry (that I know of. Since I have laundry in the building, I don't really know where the closest one is, and haven't passed by one), so I thought I'd do her a favor and let her use the pay laundry in the basement from time to time. The last time she was in the building, someone asked her who she was, and she fabricated the story about laundry for cat sitting. Unfortunately, the person she spoke with was a board member, and did not take kindly to the idea that a tenant was bartering away condo property for her own gain.
It didn't matter that it wasn't true. This indiscretion led to questions of my apartment situation, and why I had a cat when the building had a no-pets clause for tenants (that was news to me since there are a lot of dogs in the building). I hadn't been on a lease since the year before when my first lease expired, so the solution was easy enough - sign another lease.
The next issue was harder to deal with. I spoke to a friend of mine who is a real estate lawyer as far as whether I had any recourse. Unfortunately, since I am a renter in a condo building, it is legal for them to have different rules for renters and owners (the happy dog people). I also found that there is a Pet Law in New York State that protects renters with pets, but unfortunately doesn't apply to condos in Manhattan. So it was the end of the line for Salem.
In a way, I think this will be a better life for Salem. My parents' house is large, and she'll have more room to run around in. I'm also going to be traveling a lot for work in the next year or two, and that's a lot of cat sitting to ask of someone. The only downside is she'll have to get used to living with my parents' cat, Finn.
Hopefully, they'll be fine.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
The evils of delicious food
No wheat. No dairy. To add to that: no sugar, no caffeine, no red meat, no processed foods. oh yeah, and no alcohol. Of course the one I asked the nutritionist on a break on was the no alcohol. She relented, saying I should take it easy. So I have, for the most part.
Yes, my body has decided once again that it doesn't want anything delicious, and is going to rebel and show me who's boss. Or at least, things I once thought were delicious. After things you once enjoyed turn on you, you no longer crave them. Pizza? The combination of wheat and dairy is right now the worst thing ever. Cupcakes? No thanks. Crunchy right out of the oven french bread? Well, that still sounds good, but no. No thanks. One would think it's a sacrifice giving these things up, but feeling healthy is so much better.
My doctor has run some tests, which I'm guessing will be inconclusive. There's not much you can do when your system just develops an intolerance for certain foods. Part of me wonders if by overindulging in these things, I've caused the problem. One of my fellow sailors was talking about how sometimes for dinner, he just eats a whole loaf of bread. Not sliced white bread in a bag, mind you. Good bread. In my current frame of mind, I'm thinking, "Dude, you're just asking for trouble when you get older."
The plus side - I've lost about 12 lbs. I guess there's something good that comes out of everything.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
the IKEA saga
A couple of weeks ago, I had had enough. My creaky old bed frame had caused me to wake up in the middle of the night for the last time. It had served me well for the last seven or eight years or so, but it had to go. Time to buy a new bed frame.
This new frame would be the first I've ever bought - I had survived with a futon through college, living in San Francisco, and my first couple of years in New York. I upgraded to a mattress on the futon frame until Heidi moved out of our apartment on Union Street to move in with her boyfriend. She offered me her bed frame since she wouldn't be needing it anymore. With a box spring and the super cushy pillow top mattress, my bed looked like it was right out of the Princess in the Pea story; the top of the bed was at least three feet off the floor, and I felt like I needed a step stool to get into it. I traded the box spring for sheets of plywood, and the bed was down to a normal height. Having dumped my college era sleeping furniture, it was one of those many moments of feeling like an adult that I had in my early 30's. Silly, I know.
On one of my Friday's off, I headed down to Pier 11 to catch the Water Taxi to IKEA. I had spotted a bed on their website that I liked - it was simple, basically a wooden box with drawers, no headboard - but wanted to look at it, sit on it, and basically make sure it wasn't a total piece of crap. I also just liked the idea that I could get to IKEA via water; I didn't have to deal with taking the subway to the decrepit Smith / 9th Street F station over the Gowanus, and then taking the bus through the no man's land that is Red Hook. There are good things in Red Hook, the Lobster Pound comes to mind, but taking that B61 bus is not one of them.
After a relatively short journey, I find myself quickly winding my way through the maze of IKEA in search of their bedroom furniture section. I'm not looking at anything else, I'm on a mission, I find the bed, it looks good. I buy it, then take the ferry back home to wait for delivery. After a couple of hours, the delivery guys arrive with the bed. They bring it inside my apartment, and I'm pretty excited to have my new bed.
That is, until I open the box. Three of the pieces are damaged. Unfortunately, there is no white glove service with IKEA. I briefly consider trying to jury rig the pieces to get them to work, but realize it's no use. I call IKEA in defeat to see what can be done.
After many phone calls with customer service where the low point was their representative suggesting that I could go out to Paramus, NJ to go buy a new bed, I settle on reordering the bed from their online store. I'm now waiting on a call from their delivery service for tomorrow's arrival of the new bed. Hopefully, it will all arrive in one piece.
For the past two weeks, I've been sleeping with my mattress on the floor, since I had dismantled the old creaky bed prior to seeing the crushed IKEA pieces. I feel like I'm back to the days on Union Street, back to before I had a bed and felt like an adult. It's slightly unsettling, but at least my bed is not waking me up at 3AM.
This new frame would be the first I've ever bought - I had survived with a futon through college, living in San Francisco, and my first couple of years in New York. I upgraded to a mattress on the futon frame until Heidi moved out of our apartment on Union Street to move in with her boyfriend. She offered me her bed frame since she wouldn't be needing it anymore. With a box spring and the super cushy pillow top mattress, my bed looked like it was right out of the Princess in the Pea story; the top of the bed was at least three feet off the floor, and I felt like I needed a step stool to get into it. I traded the box spring for sheets of plywood, and the bed was down to a normal height. Having dumped my college era sleeping furniture, it was one of those many moments of feeling like an adult that I had in my early 30's. Silly, I know.
On one of my Friday's off, I headed down to Pier 11 to catch the Water Taxi to IKEA. I had spotted a bed on their website that I liked - it was simple, basically a wooden box with drawers, no headboard - but wanted to look at it, sit on it, and basically make sure it wasn't a total piece of crap. I also just liked the idea that I could get to IKEA via water; I didn't have to deal with taking the subway to the decrepit Smith / 9th Street F station over the Gowanus, and then taking the bus through the no man's land that is Red Hook. There are good things in Red Hook, the Lobster Pound comes to mind, but taking that B61 bus is not one of them.
After a relatively short journey, I find myself quickly winding my way through the maze of IKEA in search of their bedroom furniture section. I'm not looking at anything else, I'm on a mission, I find the bed, it looks good. I buy it, then take the ferry back home to wait for delivery. After a couple of hours, the delivery guys arrive with the bed. They bring it inside my apartment, and I'm pretty excited to have my new bed.
That is, until I open the box. Three of the pieces are damaged. Unfortunately, there is no white glove service with IKEA. I briefly consider trying to jury rig the pieces to get them to work, but realize it's no use. I call IKEA in defeat to see what can be done.
After many phone calls with customer service where the low point was their representative suggesting that I could go out to Paramus, NJ to go buy a new bed, I settle on reordering the bed from their online store. I'm now waiting on a call from their delivery service for tomorrow's arrival of the new bed. Hopefully, it will all arrive in one piece.
For the past two weeks, I've been sleeping with my mattress on the floor, since I had dismantled the old creaky bed prior to seeing the crushed IKEA pieces. I feel like I'm back to the days on Union Street, back to before I had a bed and felt like an adult. It's slightly unsettling, but at least my bed is not waking me up at 3AM.
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