Mme. Ant

I was stuck for 30 minutes on an unmoving subway train.  Yes, there was AC, yes, we were above ground.  But it just wasn’t the way to start the week.  I’m still having hot flashes despite the AC.  Such joy.  Dear NYC Transit. F*ck you.

It’s already 85 degrees here before 10AM.  This is New York City; I struggle through the winters with the expectation that cold winter=not hellacious summer. WRONG!

In other news, we are hiring someone new to work with us.  She wrote us lovely thank you cards.  There was only one problem in several cards–she wrote ExcellANT [my emphasis, of course].  Because I am a lovely person, I have to pronounce it as if I were addressing Adam Ant’s brother–”that’s Excell ANT!”

She does seem like a great addition to our staff–I’m sure it’ll be ExcellANT.

Hey ‘ho, ya can’t stay here

This week, at our unit meeting, a co-worker was talking about an academic conference she attended in 1968, I think in Georgia.  She and a female colleague, the only women attending, went to register at the official hotel.

She explained “The desk attendant said, ’we don’t allow “ladies” like you in this establishment.’ “

My other colleagues and I were confused, “What?” 

T continued, “He thought we were prostitutes.”

Our boss asked, “what did you look like?”

T said, “we looked like grad students.”

We shook our heads.  She said, “That was the same conference where the head of the session saw me and said, ‘how sweet–you came to deliver your husband’s paper’–I guess he was confused because my name can be a man’s name also.”

I sat with my younger colleagues and tried to envision going to a conference with a thousand people and being one of two women. I failed to imagine it.

I think that it’s so interesting that someone like T, who has experienced that kind of crazy sexism, supports Obama (as do I) and not HRC.  I’ve been thinking about it all week. 

Staying cool

The short report is that I finished the race.  I did an 11:57/mile pace, which considering the heat, is acceptable.  I’m glad I did the race and will have a fuller report later.

It is hot.  Weather d0t com says 83, but other sources are saying 91. It does feel hotter than 83 to me.  Whatever the temp, it feels like the perfect time for a nap in the AC.

 

Cranky is cranky

I’m at work.  My aggravation with work has increased substantially in the past few weeks.  I’m bored, I’m annoyed.  Yesterday I thought the top of my head would spin off; I got my period 5 days early.  I snarled a lot.  Yay, me. But I get to go home at 2:30–WOO HOO.

My anniversary 10k is tomorrow.  R reminded me that the important thing is that this is the 5th time that she and E and I will be running the race together and it’s all about friends and companionship.  That’s true, but I want it to be about friends and companionship and a PR time.  Since that’s almost impossible, I’ll try to look at it her way.  But I’m not happy about it.

I’m thinking of eating pizza tonight. I like meatball and onion pizza. Last weekend I got the pizza and a slice of carrot cake from the pizzeria.  I believe in nutrition.

Happy Friday.

93

Someone just said cupcake.  Why are people talking about food at 9AM?

As of now, the forecast for Saturday, race day, is 93 degrees. I’m not sure that it got to 93 at all here last year and it’s been in the low 70s for the past couple of days.  93 is a don’t vomit-don’t pass out-where’s the water-nightmare in early June in New York.  At least I don’t have to run a marathon like the folks in last year’s Chicago Marathon debacle. 

I got a haircut!  I like the way it looks–no one else has said anything and that’s never a good sign.  But I like it–it’s much shorter.  I went to the same salon, different location (one block away), different stylist and had a good experience.  What could be bad about having a beautiful, friendly Brazilian woman cut your hair.  Answer: nothing.  Not only did she cut it while it was dry, I had to stand up a few times so she could see how it would work.  I was a lovely experience, and unlike my previous hair stylist, this one didn’t refer to any colleagues as “c*nt,” in front of me.   I always appreciate that.

And for you who disdain SATC, I read this lovely review this morning. 

Why don’t you do right?

It’s 62 degrees and drizzling.  I’m loving the return to cooler weather; it’s a short reprieve.  I am wishing that the weather forecast for Saturday, the day of my 10K, were for cool weather. It’s not.

We are supposed to have to hottest day of the year so far on Saturday. I keep telling myself, “nobody has a PR on the hottest day so far, there are no pee-ars on the hottest day….”  It’s a mantra.  I have heard about the power of positive thinking, but I believe in the power of reality.

Speaking of which, my 62 year old co-worker is keeping me up to date on the state of her online meeting/dating life.  Thus far, she has been called needy, insensitive and argumentative.  ”Argumentative” apparently happened in the park–they were in the middle of a conversation, when the gentleman stopped in his tracks and shouted, “YOU ARE SO ARGUMENTATIVE!” 

I didn’t think my co-worker would hear from Mr. A again and neither did she.  But yesterday he emailed her to ask if she wanted to go on a hike with a group he leads.  I told her that she should say, “there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell that I’m going to allow you to insult me in public AGAIN!”  She giggled, “That’s so funny.”  I was dead serious. 

I haven’t been looking at the online sites at all this week.  No coincidence.

 

Like a rolling stoned

Yesterday the big excitement in Brooklyn was that Bob Dylan is coming to do a concert in August.  I spent a good part of the day dithering.  He’s coming to Prospect Park. It’s less than a FIVE MINUTE walk from my apartment.  But a lawn ticket costs $70 when you incluse the TM fees.  But Bob Dylan.  Right there.  But I probably won’t be able to see him, since all the peopel will be crowded on the lawn like a subway car at rush hour.  It is gonna be crazy.  My friend M said, “It will really be a zoo – a patchouli-smelling, Park Slope hippie/yuppie zoo.”  True, but I can’t bring myself to miss it.  I finally bought a ticket at 7:30AM today after I caught myself singing, “Everybody Must Get Stoned,” in the shower.  

My other excitement was the first swim of the season.  I didn’t have high hopes, but it turned out to be a lovely, though slow, swim.  Swimming is so technique-driven and my arms feel tired from stroking my way across the pool.  I did a little over 1500 meters and my shoulders feel sore.  I kept reminding myself that my short distance triathlon will require me to swim less than 1000 meters.    It was nice to be in the water.

Always get me down

The weather has changed.  Warm weather is very difficult for running and I’m feeling like my 10k on Saturday will be very slow.  This past weekend I ran and ate and watched TV and read and ate and ran and ate and watched TV.  I got a pedicure in there somewhere.

I was in a generally crabby mood this weekend–nothing earth shattering, but I am hoping that my mood improves.  On the mood-improvement front, I am planning to swim this afternoon.  I brought my suit and all my gear to work with me so I can get in the pool right after work.  I keep thinking that if I exercise enough my mood will improve, so I just have to get that exercise up to therapeutic levels.  In a few weeks, the outdoor pools will be open and that is always fantastic. 

I just heard that a friend of mine who lived in Manhattan has moved to my block for the next month.  It will be great to have a friend right across the street.

I signed up for a new dating site. I paid my money, but haven’t done anything about it yet.  I just can’t bring myself to try it again. But I will do it. At some point. Soon. Very soon.  Just not right now.

Stormy weather

Thunderstorms are so dramatic and they are just starting here.  I managed to get in a run, a Greenmarket shop, and brunch and I am happy to have the storminess commence.

I bought lovely, farm-fresh strawberries at the Greenmarket.  I’m not talking about those hydroponic, steroidal nightmares, I’m talking about beautiful little, sweet berries.  I would love to take a photo of them, but since I can’t find the cord that connects the computer to the camera, there’s no point.

The run was much better than Thursday’s disaster because I was powered by the pizza and carrot cake I ate last night.  Actually, it was easier because this is the slowest 6.7 miles we’ve done in a while–a 12:45/mile pace.  Even in the humidity, I feel as though I could run that pace for hours.  Whether or not I can run 10K in an 11:22 pace is anyone’s guess. It’ll be a stretch.

Leaden

I am still recovering from the season finale of Lost–beautiful. 

Since last week, I’ve been trying to convince myself to sign up for a speed-dating event that is happening tonight.  I couldn’t make myself do it.  My desire to spend $50 to talk to a bunch of creeps is outweighed by my desire to watch the Wire after the bike ride I hope to take after work.  So, no speed dating this weekend or in the near future. I feel pretty good about that.

Here is the saga of yesterday’s doughnut.  I ate an egg sandwich and the doughnut for breakfast and ate some soup and bread for lunch.  I went for a run with “my people” last night.  We all had a hard time because of the change in the weather, but I would say that I had MY WORST run (only 3.35 miles at a 12/mile pace) in a very long time.  I felt like I had weights strapped to my stomach and legs and I could feel the oil from the doughnut bubbling up in my chest.  I’m thinking that too much crap + too little protein=REALLY CRAPPY.  We are planning to run almost 7 miles tomorrow and I am hoping to redeem myself.

My big belly and I wish you all a happy weekend.