How Sweet it Is!

It has been a long season for this Red Sox fan living in the middle of the EVIL EMPIRE. I have been teased, taunted and ribbed all season long by the Yankees fans that surround me at home and in the office.

Where is the broom? Said my boss after the Yankees swept us last month.

It's getting chilly in Boston, just 1 1/2 degrees said another co-worker when the Sox lead was perilously slim.

I bet you don't even know the Sox lineup said a co-worker at that other job I had earlier this year (to which I responded with grace and aplomb the entire batting order).

Damir has been quiet in his taunts (and occasionally even applauds the Sox), however he insists on displaying the Yankee Logo magnet on the back of my truck. This is my fault, naturally, as I was trying to be diplomatic when I bought a Boston magnet for myself and got him the Yankees magnet as a gesture of good will. DAMN MY GOOD WILL, I say. The unspoken rule we have worked out is that whomever is driving gets to display their team, though when I ride shotgun, I display the Boston magnet under my window so everyone knows, I AM NOT A YANKEES FAN.

And now, the Yankees have been knocked out of the post-season by the surprisingly strong Cleveland Indians. The Yanks played like a marginal minor-league team unable to swing the bat or make necessary defensive plays. So timing seems right for me to respond to all the taunting I endured for the last 5 or so months. But no. I will not. Sure, there are many things I could say such as:

NANANANANANAAAAA! You looooossst!

or

What's the temperature now, huh? Huh? Huh?

or

Who needs a broom when I have a shovel??

or

See ya next season, SUCKERS!

But no, I will not say any of those things. Nope, I will not utter a single word in retort. I am a citizen of the Red Sox Nation and I will not demean myself to such lowly tactics.

Strange Things About

Today will be a muggy 84 Degrees F in New York City. Yes, the calendar does indeed say October 4th. I am desperate for the fall chill to arrive; I have no idea how to dress for work in this warm-fall season. Summer skirts seem out but I am roasting in a suit. The forecast indicates that there will be no reprieve.

Also today, I passed an unchaperoned chicken hanging out in Times Sqauare. Not a guy in a chicken suit, but an actual live chicken. White feathers and all. Curious tourists flocked (pun intended) to get photos of the odd bird. To quote a fellow pedestrian, "Funny. But I guess that's not the strangest thing I've seen walking around these parts."

Under (Insu)red

Today is October 1st, which thankfully means that I once again walk amongst the insured people of America. It has been a scary thing to be without health insurance these last three months. Even this weekend I had terrible dreams where in the last moments of my un-insured state of being something terrible happened to me and I kept screaming No No No! I get insurance TOMORROW! Thankfully, however, it was just a dream.

Although, I won't be getting dental insurance which is a bit of a concern, especially given all the dental trauma I had last year with one stupid tooth. That tooth is still a little wonky and I think any day will erupt again like a sleeping volcano.

Along the same subject, I was entertained recently by this article in New York Magazine:

Censo(red) by Tim Murphy

Wendy Dembo was annoyed with the (Product) RED campaign, the
Bono-backed effort to fight AIDS in Africa by selling RED-logoed products, from
Gap T-shirts to Pods. “I’m glad the Gap is helping Africa, but I want to help
people in the U.S., too,” says Dembo, 40. So the West Village marketing consultant made her own T-shirt: UNINSU(RED). The shirt went on sale two weeks ago at Reed Space, a trendy Orchard Street shop. “I thought this was a way to get the hipster kids to think about the importance of health insurance,” she says. Fourteen $28 shirts were sold before the RED people sent a cease-and-desist letter, according to shop staffers. (A RED spokesperson declined to comment.) The proceeds aren’t going to health-care advocacy, but Dembo, who pays a $960 monthly premium for her own insurance,says she’s giving away one in three shirts to uninsured friends. Tarra Cunningham, 40, recently wore one while running errands downtown. “I thought it would protect me from crazy cabdrivers,” she says. A tomato-seller at the Union Square Greenmarket gave her a discount, and medical workers at Beth Israel averted their eyes. When she approached her own East Village block, she recalls, “I met with knowing glances and people going ‘Yeah!’ It was fantastic—the most eventful walk home
I’ve ever had.”

Where can I get one of those T-shirts?

Tattoo Dreams

I got my first and only tattoo over 11 years ago. I was a recent graduate and about to embark on a trip around the world on board the SS Universe Explorer with the program Semester at Sea. Life seemed full of possibilities and the tattoo I chose was meant to remind me of a time of strength, hope and adventure. Not once did I regret it.

Over the years I have wished for another. Back in Amsterdam I even had one designed by a local artist, but in the end I couldn't decide on where to place it. Shoulder? Arm? Back? Since I couldn't decide, I figured it wasn't the time. The design was a beautiful black and red compass rose.

Lately I have been thinking about tattoos again and wish for something more dramatic than my discreet first tattoo. I had the first placed on my lower back on the left side of my spine so that it would not be of consequence to business, formal wear, or bathing suits. And especially not to be visible if/when wearing a wedding gown. I have to say, however, I don't really care so much about those things anymore. I am not the traditionalist I once thought I was. And I feel more confident in making a decision like that at 33 than I did at 21.

I saw these two tattoos today on the internet of cherry blossom branches and think both are so beautiful...they make me want to run to the nearest tattoo parlor:


I like how both sweep across the back and the femininity of the pink blossoms against the stark black branches. I was not aware of this before, but I just read about the differences between Japanese and Chinese symbolism of the Cherry Blossom:

Chinese Cherry Blossom

For the Chinese the cherry blossom is a very significant symbol of power. Typically it represent a feminine beauty and sexuality and often holds an idea of power or feminine dominance. Within the language of herbs and herbal lore of the Chinese the cherry blossom is often the symbol of love.

Japanese Cherry Blossom

For the Japanese the cherry blossom holds very different meaning. The cherry blossom is a very delicate flower that blooms for a very short time. For the Japanese this represents the transience of life. This concept ties in very deeply with the fundamental teachings of Buddhism that state all life is suffering and transitory. The Japanese have long held strong to the Buddhist belief of the transitory nature of life and it is very noble to not get too attached to a particular outcome or not become emotional because it will all pass in time.

I am not ready to start shopping the local tattoo parlors just yet, but the urge is sitting patiently on a stool in the corner of my brain waiting for the right time and the right design to come along.

I. Am. An. Asshole.

I shouldn't have posted that blog last week in which I joked about the office curse.

I am an asshole.

Unbeknownst to me, on that same day, my elderly grandmother was admitted to the hospital in very serious condition. She has since been released, but the prognosis isn't great. Blood clots formed in her lungs and did some damage to her heart. She is now resting at her home in Chicago, which is exactly where she wants to be right now. She isn't in any pain.

I am not really superstitious enough to believe that my posting had any affect on Gram's health, but still it also has made me realize that it was pretty insensitive.

I am thinking of heading to Chicago next weekend. She won't necessarily know that I am there, but I want to be there for my Mom and other family members. Once again I curse the fact that I am far away from my family, and to be with them when they need a hand to hold proves harder than it should be.

Curse of the Office?

In the short 8 weeks or so since I have been at my new job, I have counted:

- 7 Hospitalizations of either a staff member or their immediate family
- 5 Funerals attended by staff members (and not of any of the people who were hospitalized)

Isn't this strange? I find that every few days or so when I come to the office in the morning and check the overnight voicemail there is one left from a staff member either at the hospital or on their way to a funeral. We sort of joke about it, even though it really isn't that funny.

So, friends and family, be warned. Apparently by accepting this job I have put your lives in peril. But the job goes so well that I can't be bothered to quit, just to help you out. Sorry.

Confession

Everyday I walk by the Parson's New School for Design and have this fantasy:

Scene: Terra walks quickly down 7th Avenue on her way home from a busy day at the office. As usual, she is wearing a boring suit with comfortable commute-worthy footwear, her naturally wavy hair has gone frizzy, and her make-up that was so carefully applied this morning has melted away leaving her complexion colorless.

Man on Street: (yelling at crowd)... After all you're all just one paycheck away from being homeless!

Terra: (muttering to self) Ain't that the truth buddy.

Terra: (says to tourists in the way) Excuse me, sorry, um, pardon me. Can you move out of the way please? No, I don't have time to take your picture right now. I am late for the train.

While Terra waits at the crosswalk she is approached guerrilla-style by a dapper gentleman with grey hair and rimless glasses and a small friendly camera crew.

Dapper Gentleman: Miss Walker?

Terra: (Surprised) What? I mean, Yes, that's me? (eyes widen with recognition). Oh My God. You're... You're.... You're...

(Dapper gentleman smiles and laughs)

Terra: ... TIM GUNN!

Tim: Terra, as you are surely aware, we are filming our new season of Project Runway and we need your help in our next challenge called "Everyday Woman". We are picking women of the street to participate as our models instead of the gang of gloomy waifs we usually use. Can you help one of our designers to make this work?

Terra: Why, Yes! Yes, I can do that!

(Video montage set to the song Can't Get You Outta My Head by Kylie Minogue shows Terra meeting her hot designer, Raul... Terra nodding enthusiastically at the sky blue fabric he has chosen to use for the dress... Tim Gunn looking Raul's shoulder as he sews pieces together clapping approvingly... Terra getting hair and makeup done by the Loreal professionals... cut to Runway Judges critiquing the various designer's outfits)

Heidi Klum: (Heidi glowing and gorgeous as always) Raul, I must say you were truly inspired today. Bravo! Bravo! Bravo! I would wear that dress out to a Gala Event with my wonderful husband Seal and our strangely adorable children. It looks so expensive even though you created it with the budget of $5.00 we gave you!

Elle Fashion Director Nina Garcia: (gushing) Raul, you have outdone yourself once again, though I have to give credit to Miss Walker for carrying off this masterpiece so well. She really worked it! Doesn't my hair look great? I got it blown out twice today.

Michael Kors: I copy my designs from other people's works.

Heidi: Why..um..Oh. Moving on. The winner of this challenge is (beaming) Raul and Terra! Congratulations to the both of you. (Air kisses all around)

OK, so, it's kind of a long walk that gives me plenty of time for elaborate Project Runway fantasies. I love that Tim Gunn.