In 1987 when my grandmother died at the age of 91, my mother set aside part of her humble inheritance for my sisters and I that would be given to us upon our engagement as a gift from her, and put $500 in a CD for each of us. We were among the youngest of the grandchildren; I was a senior in high school with my sisters two years on either side of me, so none of us were close to marrying age. My grandmother had traditionally given five place settings from the betrothed couple's pattern of choice as a present, and my mother thought it would be proper to continue this tradition.
Over the years since, my sisters have readily complied with the tradition. My younger sister was the first to get married in 1999, and this is when we first found out about the gift which seemed to come from beyond the grave. It was a very tearful moment for my sister and my mom, and a reminder that this great lady was not around to experience her youngest grandchild being married off. This scene was repeated in 2006 when my older sister was married.
I for one have never been one for family tradition. In college, I did not join the masses of clicking heels pledging a sorority, I joined WUVT, the college radio station. I became a Democrat. I dyed my hair unnatural colors and would come home for break dressed like a 'refugee.' After college, I moved across country by train. I haven't owned a car since 1993.
I have remained unmarried, and the money in the CD has nearly tripled in the 22 years since it was deposited. Last Thanksgiving, my mother offered that I could cash in the CD when it matured next, and buy my own set of china. I had to tell her that I really did not want a set of china, and that I would like to use the money for something else. I believe it's a combination of having no use for two sets of dishes mixed with the practicality of living in a New York studio apartment and having no room for a special set of dishes. She was amenable to this until I told her what I preferred - a LeCorbusier LC4 Chaise Lounge. My mother was not happy with me deciding on a piece of furniture. She told me that she didn't think that was appropriate, that I should maybe consider jewelry - another thing that I really had no use for, and would most likely only lose. She also reminded me that her name was also on the CD.
I knew I should have been clearer. This was not only a piece of furniture to me. Le Corbusier is one of the most influential architects of the 20th century. His furniture designs are classic and this was my favorite. It is one of the most comfortable chairs that I have ever sat in while still being elegant. It's perfect, and something I think is worthwhile to have in a home.
A couple of weeks ago, my extended family was once again getting together for a wedding, this time for my oldest cousin's youngest daughter. She and her fiance had decided to get married in Maine, so I had left the city early to go up to my parents' two nights before. The china conversation came up again, and I finally convinced my mother of the importance to me of the LC4. When I presented it as a work of art, and that the lounger was featured in the collection of the Museum of Modern Art, she saw the value in it.
I'm glad I won the battle. Unfortunately, my current apartment not only does not have room for china, it doesn't have room for any other furniture either. But someday.
So after a three month hiatus, I'm back to looking on OKCupid.com, better known as shopping for dates. After the disappearance of date #12 back in April, I realized I was exhausted, and longed for a sense of normalcy in my life where I wasn't constantly focusing on how many dates I could get in one week, whether I would be kissed, and having a ticking time clock going the entire time, knowing if a date didn't hit the 120 minute mark, it wouldn't count. For a couple of those betting dates, things I'd rather have been doing with 120 minutes:
1. Seeing a movie. 2. Having drinks with friends. 3. Working (oh right. Those dates WERE work). 4. Rust busting with a needle gun. 5. Coloring my hair/doing laundry/vacuuming.
Some of you may know vacuuming is not something I love to do, although some of the other five were tasks I spend time doing after the bet was done. I enjoyed them. Especially the rust busting. Seriously, if you've never done it, there are very few things more satisfying than freeing a large expanse of metal from rust. Same goes for scraping paint with a heat gun. Lettie is now free of that awful Admiral Blue paint thanks partially to my efforts.
First there was a 33-year old recent graduate from an intense MBA two year program at Columbia. As a general rule I don't mix with MBA's; guys who work in investment banks don't appeal to me in the least. He seemed to have a more interesting pre-post-graduate life - he was a set designer - so I decided to give him a chance. There was a flurry of emails, he caught my interest, and even though one of his daily companions was a small dog, we set a date. I'm always wary of guys who live with a pet that is smaller than my cat. On the Friday that we were supposed to meet up, he emailed me wanting to postpone. Since I was dealing with a deadline at work, and was exhausted and not really in the mood to be pretty and charming, I agreed. There were a handful of emails that followed, and then, nothing.
A couple of weeks later I got an email from OKCupid.com saying I had a 4 or 5 star match with someone else on the site. He was a rare book appraiser for a small non-profit, had great taste in music, film, and books (not a big stretch), and was attractive. We met for drinks one night, which led to meeting again to go explore the High Line and more drinks and making out on a street corner at a subway entry. A third date was scheduled. I had my reservations , there were some things that just didn't click with me, but I put them out of my mind, wanting to be open to different types of people. I figured a third date wouldn't hurt. For the third date, we met up for dinner in my neighborhood. After dinner, I said good night. We made plans to meet up again a couple of days later, but that morning he texted saying he was hungover, and didn't think he would make it. This was at 11AM. We weren't going to meet up until 7PM. I set aside the distinct possibility that he was blowing me off. A couple of days later he confirmed what I had tried to put out of my mind: he'd decided to spend time with someone else. This wasn't a big surprise, nor was it in retrospect a big disappointment.
I have to applaud this guy for having the guts to do what a lot of guys (and girls, I have to admit) just can't quite drum up the courage to do when online connections just don't work out - be decent enough to reject someone, even if its over email. More times than not, guys just disappear without a word. In the past, I would endlessly wonder what happened to them. It would depend on what I knew about them, but some of the things I've considered have been:
The all too common falling off a cliff / under a bus / onto the subway tracks (morbid, I know).
His work piled up so high on his desk, that it fell over and buried him.
Deportation.
A rare case of amnesia.
A crashed server, loss of my email, phone number, and OKC account information.
Luckily, I don't really dwell on these things like I used to. That much pondering takes up way too much room in my thoughts, and its exhausting. I do occasionally wonder what happened to #12. He was genuinely busy with an insane work schedule, and when we just couldn't schedule that third date due to his work interruptions, I stopped making an effort towards getting him to see me again. After no contact for four months, on Saturday sometime between when I got up and when I needed to be down to catch Pioneer's lines at noon, I decided to send him an email to see what he was up to. I did not expect a response, I just needed to satisfy my own particular nagging question.
I'm on day two of my self-imposed exile from New York City. Salem took the trip with me, mostly because I felt really guilty about any thoughts of leaving her in the apartment with very little ventilation while I spend two weeks up at my parents' house upstate, better known by some as The Compound. Granted, as my friend Doug pointed out years ago, its not an actual compound since there is only one residential structure on the property, but I do prefer Heidi and Carrie's reading of my parents' somewhat sizable house years ago. It's on an acre and a half of land up in the hills, surrounded by woods. It's used by me to get away from the city sometimes, therefore, it's a Compound.
Why the exile? you may ask. Well, as part of the latest non-layoff strategy by my firm, along with the 20% paycut, we all also had to take a two-week non-paid vacation/furlough/leave. Yes, it's a bit of a stretch, but everyone involved seems to be in agreement that this was the best for everyone. At this point, there are very few people left in the firm that can believe they are safe from getting laid off, and although this may be preventing the inevitable from happening - more layoffs in October - it gives the firm more time to evaluate what to do ITE (in this economy. Picked that up from Heidi). Anyway, I decided to spend my two weeks where I would spend no money - up in Fishkill.
As most places of exile, I'm taken away from my day to day life. There will be no sailing. There will be no chances to be the guest star of Chey's blog for two weeks. There is no easy access to gluten free eating. The local Walmart had no gluten free bread, although they did have the gluten free pasta that I would normally buy at Whole Foods. Nothing is within walking distance accept for Fishkill Farms, the local orchard. Even that's a stretch. Yes,that's right. I did just say I walked into a Walmart.
This has led to some strife, mostly between the two cats. Finn, my parents' cat, has been at some times at ease, some times looking totally fearful of his life. It may surprise some of you who have met Salem, but she's been the total neurotic New Yorker, growling anytime Finn comes within 10 feet of her. I guess living in a New York apartment, she really has not had anything farther away from her anyway. She immediately assumed the whole house as her own, and Finn is welcome nowhere. The poor thing is fearful no matter where he is. I really hope Salem calms down. There of course have been some joking comparisons to her owner's own assertive behavior and what she has learned from living with me. She's always such the zen cat down on Pearl Street. At any time, I'm expecting this to happen:
Politics are another source of strife. Being a liberal leaning Democrat, it can be a challenge staying in a house where 90% of the time if the TV is on, Fox News is broadcasting, and there is right wing talk radio tuned in on the car radio. It's inescapable. Left on long enough, a familiar sinking, yet crushing, feeling in my chest, matched with an aching in my left shoulder lets me know that all of this really stresses me out. Luckily, the house is huge, although I can still hear some whispering from the TV twisting the great thing that President Clinton did today for those two women in North Korea into something awful, something that he only did for his own advantage.
This is what really bothers me about Fox News and the right wing talk radio. It's not that their viewpoint is a polar opposite of mine, it's the negativity towards the current administration, and the seething resentment of any opinion other than their own. There is also a bizarro world contrast in their reporting between now and the last eight years when Bush was in power. How on earth were those days all wine and roses, and now its all the world is basically coming to an end? It's all brought down to a junior high school level - everything is stupid. Democrats are accused of leaving their offices to go to the strip club instead of answering phone calls from these talking heads at 7PM. I brought up that as an example to my mother as to why I couldn't stand to listen to it anymore. Instead of having any intelligent debate about issues, they are resorting to juvenile accusations against the opposing side, and that the rhetoric is just so vile and negative. She told me to lighten up. I told her that if she was listening to a left wing radio show, and they were spewing similar crap against the GOP, she'd be offended. No response of course. This attack media is all ok as long as you agree with what they are saying. The extreme media is the reason for the great divide between opposing sides, they thrive off of people's anger.
