Yesterday, Tomorrow, Today

Round One for La Bocca Della Verita

Yesterday: Woke past noon, despite having gone to bed "early"ish - around 2 a.m. Berated myself (bad, lazy Liv!), then as penance did 30 push-ups in a row (if anyone asks me again if they were "the real kind" I will begin to be a little insulted). Looked up some things on Wikipedia.com - trying to brush up on things I used to know and things I'd like to know. Shuddered at the news - Alito's Confirmation Seems All But Assured - and tried to assuage my panic by focusing on the grammatical flaw of that sentence. Wrote - catalogued old reviews I wrote for Orange Box Magazine and Beauty Beat's Lipstick Report; rifled through my bad fiction (added a couple of punctuation marks to the "Veronica" story, wondered again if "Rufus" wasn't so very awful, shuddered to look at "Couches" but admitted that there were some good lines in there and studiously ignored "Mime") and did some more pecking at the as-of-yet untitled Hopefully Great Italian/Guatemalan-American Novel. Began to write about the character's job and was satisfied with at least the first line of that exposition.

Went on to have a great evening with Erma and company - attending a free event at Pianos. Said free event: a free Rhett Miller concert bolstered by free Sauza cocktails, which was wonderful since I've been, as noted in my January 5th entry, trying to take it easy on the spending - with little success despite my initial burst of oomph, i might add. I wasn't familiar with Rhett Miller aside from hearing the delightful Erma extol his virtues but always enjoy learning a new musician, as I've often felt as though my scope of musical knowledge is very poor indeed. I've come to trust Erma's musical taste without question - Peaches's as well; those two ladies kept it cooking in our dorm room without fail - and Mr. Miller's music was no exception to the "Erma has great musical taste" rule. Great tunes - I particularly liked a number called "Help Me, Suzanne" - great people, good drinks (they were strong and free; hard to find something amiss there), and a goody bag at the door. Couldn't be beat with a stick. In said goody bag: a Sauza shot glass, an X-Large Sauza T-shirt (fit only to be a pajama for me), the current issue of GQ, a compilation CD, and a Sauza pen. Good times make even frigid weather okay. The fact remains, though, that I need a sturdy winter hat that covers my ears. Or I just need earmuffs. Or detachable ears.

Tomorrow: Will spend time with my brother and try to get to work early so as to ensure that I have a place to sit in the office. As there are more editors these days, there are fewer places for us to sit at the Editors' Island and near the Coordinators' area. Often, if we arrive too late, we are made to sit in the furthest reaches of the office, which I'm not too fond of. It reminds me again that in recent years, I've become increasingly social. Not bad for a girl who used to wear black-on-black and hide in her room all day.

Today: Hopefully, the streak of novel-writing will continue. Have already done some arm exercises and told Little Miss Tigerstripes to shut up. Shuddered again at the headlines declaring Alito's eventual confirmation to the Supreme Court. Regretting not having volunteered for the STOP Alito! phone banks but already had plans for the hours the phone banks would have been operating. Grocery shopping is required - tomatoes, milk - and will be done down the block, stonily ignoring the unmistakable heavenly smells of Dallas BBQ next door. No. Must not think of yam and Idaho mashed potatoes. Hearty tangy succulent fall-off-the-bone ribs - what hearty tangy succulent fall-off-the-bone ribs? I've never heard of a beer goblet in my life. That's just crazy talk.

The less money I spend, the hungrier I get. A few days ago, I was craving ceviche. "Ceviche! Ceviche! Ceviche!" I typed to friends in IM boxes. A cupcake from Crumbs, too, was preying on my mind. Yesterday, I was craving pizza from Lombardi's, after having been there for lunch the day prior and spending far too much money. Was proud of myself last night after resisting post-concert pizza in the LES and enjoying some fettuccine in olive oil when I returned home, as well as handfuls of Basic 4. Will make some pasta tonight and bring it to work for dinner, as much as I love participating in the nightly food orders with the gang. We'll get this train back on track yet.

It's boring, it's commonplace, it's self-absorbed ... it's Liv's Yesterday, Tomorrow and Today.

Mal Alito

Walking home yesterday evening in the dusk, my purse began to vibrate, signaling a call from Squirrel. The cars careened by, the NYU kids howled, the trucks clattered; I caught only a few words: "A talk" "NYU Law School" "Wine" "Meet me" "Back". It sounded good to me. It was only at the front desk of the heretofore unvisited ivied Law School, stammering to the guard as he leafed through an older copy of Orange Box Magazine, that I realized I didn't exactly know where I was going. The guard informed me that the only lecture that was open to the public at that time was the one in room 206 - a presentation by People For The American Way about the implications of Judge Samuel Alito's nomination to the Supreme Court. An exclamation point zoomed off my head - great idea, Squirrel! - and I hiked up the stately spiral staircase two steps at a time. Unfortunately, I had arrived after the actual presentation itself, during the Q&A segment with the two panelists, but that was still enough to teach me scary things I didn't know and to further confirm my belief that Sam Alito is Bad. The panelists focused mainly on the abortion issue - like B, I wouldn't have minded hearing more about the threat to religious freedom and privacy - and, aside from bottles of Yellowtail wine, stickers, and pens, the group offered several solid pamphlets on the material covered that I missed. If you'd like to know more, click here for their website - Save the Court - as well as ideas on what we can do to help; namely, calling our senators and even volunteering at the STOP ALITO! Phone Banks (PFAW NY Office, Tony Simone, 212-420-0440 x 13 tsimone@pfaw.org). Hmn...

Doors

Across the hall, drama I never dreamed of:



A week later, it's still up there.

bah 2

...and perhaps just as bad as all of those things is realizing you're still such a spaz that you actually didn't lose the camera in the cab but you merely - somehow, for some reason - dropped it into your hamper as you walked into your room and, after immediately forgetting that you - again, for some unknown reason - put it there, combed the apartment in the usual places - bag, dresser, bed, table - and upon finding nothing after several laps around the house, decided your camera was lost. you then filed a report with the TLC. then you proclaimed your clumsiness on the World Wide Web. And then, after digging through your hamper (again; what??) to sort for laundry day came upon the prized object had to retract that earlier statement with a sheepish "false alarm; just me being a spaz. again."

bah.

but at least i have my camera.

bah

...even more annoying than having left your beloved digital camera with lots of great new pics in a cab is having done so while (relatively) sober and (perhaps) mere seconds after stopping the cab because you realized that you were forgetting your bright yellow umbrella.

bah.

You Can Take it on the Chin, Call a Cab, and Begin to Recover on Your 14 Karat Yacht

It's occurred to me lately, as 2005 waned and I found myself scraping my money together at the end of the month - again - that I could really stand to save a little more dough. My entire life, I've been a saver, scrimper, money making schemer (there was even an EBay selling phase); I don't go to the spa, the salon, fancy clubs, fancy restaurants, do drugs or buy fancy things so to find myself scratching my head and wondering where my money has gone felt a little ... weird. I mean, I get my hair cut in Chinatown for $14 a pop. I practically live in dollar stores. My favorite jacket cost me $20. I play harmonica in the subways - because I'm exceptionally gifted, one session alone pays for my one meal a day (the $2.95 Recession Special at Gray's Papaya). Frostbite has made me immune to the cold that blasts through my threadbare coat, thus eliminating the need for one that is new and warm. I feed Heifer once a week. The recent lack of funds really shouldn't have surprised me, though - after all, I did take three vacations and participate in one wedding in the past 6 months. Three plane tickets, a Maid of Honor dress, a wedding gift, accomodations at the wedding site, bus tickets to Maryland to help with wedding preparation, accessories for the Maid of Honor dress ... it all added up pretty handily. Add to that the fact that I spend half of my monthly paycheck on rent.

Don't get me wrong; I'm not complaining, nor am I asking for pity. I (stubbornly and stupidly) choose to live in this (amazing) apartment, I chose to go on my (great) recent trips and I was thrilled when Buttercry asked me to be her Maid of Honor. I'm not embarrassed to mention this on the ol' Web, either, because it is my firm resolution to get back on track - and soon. I look at it as just another "challenge" to fill my days. It could even be fun - looking back, I've noticed that the times in my life that I was most proud of myself was when I was scrimping because I was creative and resourceful. Necessity is, after all, the mother of invention. Or at least the muse. Oh, heck, let's go with "muse" - it's juicier. So far, things are going swimmingly - I have always been good at Spartan living, except when I get it into my head that I have to visit my family in Guatemala or take myself on a far away getaway. So I just won't think about tamales or volcanos or my grandmother's huge annual family birthday party planned for next month. No tamales por Olivia. I am rediscovering the joy of cooking for myself, as well as the odd pleasure in window shopping. For years, I bragged to my friends "If I read the menu, I don't really need to eat". It was almost always true. But what started this odd change when I began to actually buy the candy-colored cupcakes in the store window? My best guess is that I was promoted and got a pay raise - a buddy warned me that it only seemed like a lot more money and that I shouldn't let myself go nuts thinking that I suddenly had a lot more to spend. What do you know - he was right.

So we're getting back on track. Inspired by another buddy, I sat down for the coin rolling session I've been meaning to have for years. He described the activity as "tedious", but I actually found it kinda therapeutic, watching the coins pile up, even as I berated myself for being such a pig as to let things accumulate in my apartment. The first coin rolling session yielded $49. The second, once I finish, will yield $34. That's $83 lying around my place in change - amazing. Today, I lugged my first batch of coins to the bank and deposited them. On my living room floor, I've sectioned off the books I'm going to sell at The Strand tomorrow. This evening, as I rooted around in my refrigerator for something to drink and found nothing beyond a few bottles of soda long gone flat (PIG), my eyes spied a bottle of Margarita mix I bought at Odd Job for $2.99 perhaps a year ago, maybe even more. Eight o'clock margaritas - what fun! If only I had tequila. And ice that wasn't from cloudy tap water. Thirsty, I turned an idea over in my mind - could I drink possibly stale Margarita mix on its own? Did Margarita mix go bad? What was even in it? I picked up the chilled bottle and scanned the list - it looked like your basic soda or sugar-packed fruit juice, aside from the "1% Alcohol Content". What harm could it do?, I figured. I opened up the bottle and dribbled a thimble's worth into a glass. It tasted like a slightly more tart lemonade, with a sharper aftertaste. All in all, not too bad. I poured myself a full glass and satisfiedly sipped it with my linguine in olive oil. Tomorrow: try chugging it to see if I can get a cheap buzz without having to go to a bar.

Ah, it's going to be a fun year.

A Day Late