What Will I Do Without Her #2
My mom thinks I'm a catholic freak. She's quite certain that I'm going to end up a contemplative nun with a VJ disease for lack of use. She gave me a rosary bracelet for X'mas and suggested I had it blessed by the Priest. Mother, are you losing it? Well, she obviously doesn't know I can't say the "Apostles' Creed." I barely know "Our Father." I don't genuflect nor do I make the sign of the cross with holy water when I enter a holy church. Alternatively and on good days, she thinks I'm going to end up in a mental home as an alcoholic. If I were to choose between being a nun and an alcoholic, I think I'd choose the former. I've always thought how cool it would be to be a contemplative nun. All they do is pray, cook, eat and smile. They don't have to take care of their looks, they don't need to wax, they don't really have to work, they basically don't have to worry about anything important, and they are married to a guy who loves them with an unconditional love and who doesn't demand much, just a little bit of attention. I was thinking about it today on my way back from work. A tempting thought ... and somehow without realizing it, I entered a liquor store and purchased a bottle of Absolut Vodka and a Martini Extra Dry. Went home, fixed myself a martini, slightly dirty, mmmm... not bad at all... had another glass, until I realized I was getting pissed while reading the Gospel of John. Mom, you are right, I am a freaky catholic alcoholic.Labels: Mommy dearest, Self derision, Wash away my sins...
Jersey shores to East River
Every night I wait, clothes over a chair,
for my infidel, my love, my hope, my dreams,
my body to fill you.
I have rarely slept,
I say goodbye to the waters of New Jersey.
I enter my empty bed,
my legs look for the hollow of your legs
wished to be embraced by your unwearying fidelity.
I look through the windows
at the emptiness of the city, men, women, laughing and alive,
making me what I am, opposing me.
I use my hands,
open my eyes,
putting life in my mouth,
bursting out of pain
and so your life swells,
the image of you.
You sound in the winds
as though you were my soul.
At bad moments, you cling to my bones,empty at night,your wings against mine
but I realize it is a phantom.
I wonder if one day,
my blood will stain your blood.
Then you will fade with me
or it will not be so dramatic
but simple,
you will age gradually,
you will sicken with me, with my body,
and together we will enter the grave.
At the thought of this, I greet you,
and then you will embrace me,
I will never forget you
because together we are one
and we will go,
facing the wind hand in hand,
at night, forever,
on the shores, in the waters,
two bodies in one, maybe one day,
motionless, forever.Labels: Love et al.
Easter Monday
What to do on a Easter Monday when your married friends are with their families, your own family is 100,000 miles away from where you live and you are single? You go shopping. The problem is that all shops in Paris are closed today and it's pouring down. And my fridge is empty. I can't even make myself a descent cup of coffee, the residue of milk in my fridge has transformed into a smelly Brie cheese. I'm flicking from one channel to the next, nothing of interest, unless you find the democratic future of Belarus, or the development of Africa and international assistance subjects to be considered deeply on a Easter Monday. Not for me... Okay, I will go to the office, at least, there will be diet coke and milk.Labels: Self derision, Simply coffee, Wash away my sins...
Good Friday
Today is the day of Fast and Abstinence. I'm abstaining from smoke, alcohol, meat, blogging and browsing the net. Strange, feels like something's missing ... I need a drink... Maybe I can go to the Solemn Liturgy of the Lord's Passion this evening. It starts at 8:00 pm and ends around 11:00 pm, basically during my usual dinner time. That'll abstain me from smoking and getting pissed. Forgive me God.(Diego Velazquez, Christ on the Cross, c. 1632)
Labels: Self derision, Wash away my sins...
I'll Take a Rain Check on That...
If you've seen a girl for a couple of drinks only (let's not even call it a date) and she doesn't call you back despite your numerous unanswered phone calls or e-mails, you get the message: you are out of the picture, that girl does NOT want you to see you again, ever. Don't leave deplorable voice messages such as: "No news from you... I'm worried, are you okay?" She hasn't called you back for a very simple reason that even a kindergarten kid knows. She's JUST NOT INTERESTED. Call her a coward but you are worse. You are pathetic. Labels: Relationships et al.
3 a.m on a Monday night...
It's 3 A.M., I am still at work. Sometimes I wished I were dumb and beautiful so that I could sip cocktails all day on an exotic island and live the life of a woman of leisure. But I am clever so I have a real job, which keeps me awake at this time of the night... Or maybe I am dumb that's why I am still at work.I drank about 10 cups of strong espresso and 3 cans of diet coke within a limited time-frame of 2 hours. I feel sick.Labels: Professional hardship, Self derision, Simply coffee
What Will I Do Without Her # 1
My mom calls me approximately 10 times a day (while I'm in the middle of something super urgent at work), not including the morning wake-up calls at 6 a.m. and late-night calls at midnight. My mom doesn't live in my time zone. She lives in +7 GMT. Do the math. If she calls me 10 times during my office-hours in addition to my wake-up call and at midnight, that means she never sleeps. She never sleeps because she can't sleep. She can't sleep because of me. I'm her source of constant worry, nightmare, sorrow, cause of inexistent cancer and other many imaginary pathologies.She called me (again) this morning at 6 a.m. while I was sleeping. Me: ugh... hullo...?Mother: Am I waking you up?Me: ... no...Mother: Well you sound like you've just woken up. Don't you think it's time to go to work?Me: It's 6 a.m. and it's SATURDAY.Mother: Do you know how old you are?Me: .... ????!!! (What's she talking about? It's ##%&# 6 in the morning I went to bed at 2 a.m. I'm exhausted!!)Mother: Do you realize that all your friends are all partners in firms and/or married with kids?What do you have? Nothing.Me: ... ... ...Mother: Are you listening to me?Me: uh... yes...Mother: So why don't you answer the question?Me: ... well, I don't have to answer to your question because you've answered it yourself.Mother: oh, you are playing it smart, how dare you!Me: ... ... ... Mother: You've got nothing in life. You don't even own an apartment. How old you think you are?Me: Well, I've got God.Mother: Pathetic. (She hangs up)Me: ugh... ... zzz ... zzz...Telephone rings again.Me: It's ##$@& # 6 a.m.!!!! Some people do work you know, I went to bed at 2 a.m. I need to sleep. Can't you understand???!!!??Mother: Why are you so aggressive every time I call you???!!! No wonder you are still single. (she hangs up, again)Me: (well, now that I'm up, I need a strong coffee without milk).Labels: Mommy dearest, Self derision
Vive la France !
France is burning...
After the riots in the Suburbs, 2 million French are at the barricades, protesting against the new labor law (CPE law: "contrat premiere embauche," first employment contract law), which allows employers to lay-off young employees without cause or worker's compensation during their first year on the job. Protesters are requesting the withdrawal of the law, which by the way has already been voted by both Chambers of the Parliament and approved as constitutional by the Conseil Constitutionnel (i.e., Supreme Court for law enactments), hence effective and enforceable. But demonstrators are still at the barricades. I was watching the news yesterday and there was this young guy who was in support of the withdrawal of the law (and, in passing, the government) because the law supposedly make young employees live in insecurity. A young student said that she was reluctant to look for a job because she was afraid that under the new law she might get sacked without cause and compensation. She argued that worker's compensation was the incentive for them employees to accept a job. What the .... ??? Lady, you won't get laid-off if you are a hard-working competent employee, which I am sure you are. No wonder why France is a sinking ship... Nicolas Sarkozy the French Interior Minister said something so true: "There is only one way to reduce unemployment in France. You have to explain to the French people that they have to work harder."* France is a Countess who still believes in the legacy of her glorious past... Dear Countess, have you ever heard of the 1789 Bastille revolution?------------Footnote: quotation from NY Times, March 28, 2006.Labels: Parisian life
Monday Morning Ritual
Monday Morning at work (i.e., now, at this right moment), I'm knackered. No time to put my make-up on. My secretary said I looked tired. Hell no, I'm not tired, I'm simply not wearing my make-up on. Thanks for reminding me I look pale. Need my coffee with milk no sugar. Damn! Why don't they serve proper coffee here??? What the ... is this tiny and bitter grayish colored liquid they call coffee with milk? Oh yeah, I keep forgetting, this is an espresso with a drop of milk (in French "noisette." Translation: hazel nut. Why do they call it a hazel nut? Doesn't look like one... Or maybe it's because it's as bitter as a raw hazel nut?? )
Back to my Monday morning ritual. I turn my computer on. Ugh... it takes ages....! I should have turned it on before getting my noisette. ... ... ... ... ... ... ... .... (keep losing my patience...) Finally! It's on!! Browsing through the net, I go to NY Times, I open the Weddings & Celebrations Section. Some Mondays, I read the weddings & celebrations section with my colleague. She emits weird sounds while reading it: "awe, ahhh, soooo nice, awe, ahh, so cute... mmm... so romantic..." (Me: Uh-huh, yeah cute, kinda... well...)
I wonder. The majority of those couples in the weddings & celebrations section have graduated magna cum laude from an ivy league college and went to grad school and now are working in a high-profile firm on the 45th floor with a view to the river in some financial cities in the world. Do you need to do your undergrad at Princeton and get a law degree from Yale and work in a fancy investment bank or a top-notch law firm downtown to get your name + picture appear on the NY Times???
Oh ##%&&@# ! It's 11 A.M. already!!! What am I doing dreaming? I forgot! I have a deadline today!!!Labels: Professional hardship, Self derision, Simply coffee
Exhibitionism or Masochism?
I’ve never been a good drafter. Actually it’s an endless, painstaking effort to translate my thoughts into words. The problem is that I get paid to write. It pays my rent. (No, I’m not a writer, as you would have probably guessed from my drafting skills.) When my sister and I we were kids, our grandpa used to encourage us to keep a diary. Not to put our inner thoughts in a secret diary but only to keep up with our Japanese. I hated that experience. I didn’t have enough imagination. My diaries mostly started like this: “Today, I went to the department store with grandma.” And then followed a countless list of grocery stuff. How fascinating… My diaries were not descriptive. They were merely factual. Enumeration of endless facts, in bullet point format, like a statement you file at the police station. A traumatic moment of my childhood. It’s probably the reason why I started seeing a shrink. But I have stopped seeing my shrink the moment he asked me to write my thoughts and feelings in a diary. I wasn’t afraid that my intimacy be revealed to my shrink, I’ve just found it burdensome to draft supposedly decipherable sentences, black on white. You’d say, you are full of contradictions. Why on earth have you started a Blog then? That’s a very good question. Am I a masochist? No. I am an exhibitionist. And you, reader, entertain my exhibitionism.
When you are a teenager, it’s cool to keep a secret diary. Once you reach the age of reason, it’s no longer cool. It’s PATHETIC. Blogging is quite a different scenario. A Blogger, on the contrary, does not want to keep her Blog secret. Otherwise what’s the point of posting a Blog on a world-wide-web? A Blogger is an exhibitionist. A Blogger’s unspoken dream is to being exposed to an anonymous reader she doesn’t see, has never met and will never meet, like an exhibitionist naked in her apartment at night, curtains wide open, being scrutinized from afar through a peephole... Labels: Memories..., Self derision
Regular, Skim 2%, Half and Half or Cream?
I didn’t know until I moved to NYC that cows produced different kinds of milk (e.g., whole, skim, 2%, half and half, cream), like coca-cola which comes in various flavors (e.g., Diet Coke, Cherry Coke, Caffeine-Free Coke, Vanilla Coke, and the latest breed, Coffee Coke.) By the way, why would people buy Coffee Coke? If soda consumers want a triple shot of caffeine in their veins, why don’t they drink Red Bull?
I don’t like skim milk in my coffee. Tastes like coffee diluted with lukewarm water. Remember? I transited via a European country where coffee is as bitter as bad cough medicine… Natives in this European country which confuse coffee with bad cough medicine call regular American coffee as “jus de chaussette.” Could literally be depicted as tainted water dripping from a dirty wet sock. The imagery is so not mouth-watering that I would almost lose my thirst. Anyway, I was saying that I don’t like skim milk in my coffee. If I wanted to have lukewarm water, I wouldn’t waste my dollar bill at the corner deli. I can just open the faucet for free. I want to make my dollar worth its value. That’s why I order coffee with half and half or cream. But here’s my constant nightmare each time I see the deli guy generously pouring a waterfall of cream.
According to the Nutrition Facts found on Calorie-Count, a one size order of coffee with regular milk translates into 25 calories with 9 calories from fat. Should you replace regular milk by cream, you add on 35 Calories, with additional 64 calories from fat. No wonder why my daily coffee break at the corner deli on Amsterdam and 116th contributed to the exponential swelling of my Asian body by 20 pounds in no less than 8 months… Thank God, I don’t like sugar in my coffee…Labels: Self derision, Simply coffee
10 situations you realize you're single ...
1. On your way back from the grocery store, carrying a plastic bag full of 3 bottles of cheap wine, a six pack, 3 frozen pizzas, 2 pints of Haggen Dazs (Dolce de Leche and Vanilla), 6 liters of mineral water and toilet paper, walking like a tetraplegic because the grocery bag weighs a ton and burns your fingers, sweating like a pig under 5 layers, trying to thread your way through the crowd which doesn't move forward because it's Saturday evening.
2. On New Year's Eve, at the countdown: 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4 3, 2, 1.... Happy New Year!!! You are surrounded by couples hugging and kissing, and you, suddenly feeling alone, grinning and wishing you had a cigarette between your fingers and/or a martini in your hand to keep you company; if you don't smoke or are not next to the bar, trying to act cool, but wishing you could bite your nails.
3. On your 3rd Sunday without waxing, you say maybe you should have a little waxing session but you postpone it to the following Saturday...
4. You decide not to do your laundry because your hamper is too heavy.
5. Your sexy lingerie is replaced by comfortable cotton underwear.
6. When your underwear has holes in it, but you nevertheless wear it.
7. You go to the restaurant with your married friends; somehow you are always seated at the end of the table.
8. You spend your Saturday evenings in front of the TV, you watch the same episode of Law & Order for the 5th time, you have your take-out Chinese and a beer, on your couch, legs across the coffee table.
9. You hear weird late night noise from your upstairs neighbor's apartment and you say to yourself, how strange, why are they moving their furniture at this time of the night?
10. On your 8th Saturday you still haven't waxed and you realize that maybe the reason why you're still single is because you haven't waxed and you look like a gorilla.Labels: Relationships et al., Self derision
April Fool's Day
My friend, who was born on a 1st of April some 26 years ago, who has the same name as Jesus (let's call him X, in the name of the Lord whom for our sake was crucified for our salvation), sent me the following email:
X: "LOL, blogging, that is something I wouldn't have expected from you, bravo, just avoid the misery, the lamenting, the tears, the spinster self-pity. If you think that writing about recipes and house decoration will get you a man at the door, well... Liberate yourself, write about life and death, sex and pleasure, art, existence, dilemmas and orgies you would like to do but never have, unleash your desires and THEN you will reach the level of desirability that you long for. A blog is a good start..."I forgot to call X to wish him a Happy (belated) Birthday... He blamed me for it, I could hear him whining across the Atlantic Ocean, how pathetic. X, you said were born on a 1st of April, I thought it was some kind of a joke. Okay?Labels: Self derision
