PROLOGUE

So often we hear of people and their epiphanies: monumental thoughts or events that catapulted each of them into major life changes or successes beyond compare. As an un-inspired writer, I have been waiting for one of those to crash into me for quite some time now. Some event that will get me off of my proverbial ass and make me tell my tales, the way my family and friends have been imploring me to do for years. Up until now… buppkes. No job to get fired from, no relationship to end in heart wrenching despair and no quarter-life crisis; just coasting along in the general mediocrity lane. Ironically – it is actually the pocket-sized dramas, the ones that build upon each other like a child’s awkward, unsteady, Lego building and seem comical from a few days distance but insurmountable at the time, that brought me here. A teeny tiny green gossamer drama, that led me down the drain and right into my epiphany…

Down The Drain: The Real Story

At least a week had gone by wherein my bathtub was seemingly having some type of drainage problem. Nothing egregious at first, only about an extra 10 minutes for the water to go down but that 10 min. quickly crescendoed to about 12 hours. I tried everything at my disposal, a full bottle of professional strength Drano Max, internal/external plunging sessions (with rain boots during high tide) and a faux “snake” but to no avail. As much as I hated to acquiesce, the time had come to call in the reinforcements a.k.a. handyman. As I am of the belief that I can do everything on my own or live with it not being done, asking for help is always my last resort. I left word with my doorman and then ran out so I didn’t have to bare witness to my own damsel in distress-iness. When I returned home and asked him if everything went well, my doorman loudly replied, “oh yeah, fine, they found a pair of green underwear in there – they may have to tell the building manager”. I wasn’t quite sure which aspect of this was most disturbing: the fact that the entire lobby now knew I occasionally wash my delicates by hand, that I may get in trouble for this or that I was such a bad “mother” to my garments that I didn’t even know one of my favorite underwear had gone missing. To add insult to injury, when I called the handymen to apologize and find out what became of my underwear he explained to me that he had it in the office because he needed it as evidence. EVIDENCE! My green thong, who did nothing bad to anyone, was being held ransom. People’s reactions varied from amusement to anger, I however, was more awe struck by the idea that green underwear were once again destined to play a significant role in my life. They were there the first time I "cleared the bases" (not the same pair) and now they would be the impetus for my epiphany. They are the raison d’etre behind this blog. I miss them still, but it gets easier everyday…


2.22.2009

DATING: It’s All In The Eyes

Meeting someone on New Year's Eve can give way to feelings of both fear and hope. Fear that the alcohol and revelry combined to skew your judgment and hope that you are wrong and this is finally the year that you will hit the dating jackpot. Fast forward a week, one 11th hour date cancellation later, NYE guy and I made a date. I suppose the text I received from him, at 9:15, for our 9 o'clock date, that read, "I'm ready, meet me at (address of restaurant)" should have clued me in but I pressed on. Maybe the text at 9:30 informing me that he was waiting at the restaurant and the kitchen was closing soon, should have tipped me off but I persevered. Perhaps the 9:35 text where it suddenly dawned on him that I might not live next door to the restaurant (because he finally inquired), should have shown me the light. Yet, in the face of all this, I bopped (and I rarely bop) in to meet NYE guy, believing in my heart that '09 could be starting off on the right foot. I even brushed aside the "not drinking tonight because you need to test your discipline when you are in the restaurant biz" speech and happily drank alone. It was only when I realized that 40 minutes into the date, NYE guy had made eye contact with me twice, that I knew it was time to shut the book on this one. I did, however, interrupt his diatribe about the restaurant's unappealing décor to remind him that tonight, he was fortunate enough to have something better to look at, at his very own table. We left shortly afterwards, took a lovely stroll in the balmy 30* degree January air and fortuitously ended up at his scooter, where he was kind enough to hail me a cab.

Ultimately, through some cunning self-manipulation, I was able to convince myself that this was actually a 2008 date because I met him before the stroke of twelve on December, 31. Hope springs eternal.
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