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    Friday, August 31, 2007
    Self-Respect
    Because I REALLY don't feel like talking about the sweep

    I think it's been pretty well established around these parts that I'm not exactly a tom-boy, not really a girly-girl. But one of my more girly habits is pedicures. There's just something about well kept piggies that makes me smile.

    Today, as I'm sitting in the chair desperately trying not to giggle and move my feet (I'm extremely ticklish), a pair of women sit down in the chairs next to me. They immediately engage in a rather personal conversation about one of their love lives - something not at all uncommon in that setting. But as the conversation continued, I wanted to look over and just say, "Oh, sweetie, COME ON."

    The story began innocently enough. One of the women was dating a man that didn't want to get married. They discussed how hard that kind of thing is because it's not exactly something you discuss on a first date, and by the time you figure it out you're already far enough into the relationship that you may not want to bounce.

    So the woman in question starts talking about how much she loves him, how they never fight, how great he makes her feel. And then there was this:

    Friend: But what about that time out in Nappa?
    Woman: Which one?
    Friend: The one where he circled your cellulite.
    Me: (jaw hitting the floor while pretending to continue reading my book)
    Woman: He didn't circle it, he just pointed to it with a pen.
    Friend: Yeah but he wasn't exactly happy with it.

    The conversation continued with the woman defending her "love" and I just had to zone out or I really was going to jump into the conversation. Because I'm sorry, a man I'm dating even MENTIONS my cellulite and it's war.

    Now, I'll stop here for a moment to defend myself against the comments that could be made by the people who know me well. Yes, I did once have an ex accuse me of not following through on all the talk I did about wanting to lose weight. And while he was partially right, what woman doesn't talk about wanting to lose weight? But besides that, to be perfectly honest, I sort of knew after that conversation that the relationship was on the rocks. Which turned out to be true, it ended three weeks later.

    But this woman saw absolutely nothing wrong with the fact that the self-proclaimed love of her life was literally pointing out her flaws. This just does not sit well with me. If my partner pulled shit like this - I, I don't even have words. I'd like to think I'd have a bit more self-respect than to defend the bastard. Hell, I knew it was fucked up that my ex made a comment about my weight, and he wasn't even so much talking about my weight as my reluctance to actually change something I complained about a lot.

    What I will say is that overhearing that conversation just made me even happier that I am no longer with a man that made me feel bad about myself, stronger in the knowledge that I can make myself happy and I don't need a man in my life to do it for me. I head to Boston for the long weekend relaxed, content, and excited to spend time with people who won't judge me. Expect perhaps to tell me how cute my toes look.
    posted by FINY @ Friday, August 31, 2007   16 comments
    Thursday, August 30, 2007
    A Sea of Pinstripes
    Ok, it's official. I'm starting to worry. I've been desperately holding on to the party line of "We've got the best record in baseball" but the Red Sox are starting to concern me.

    I know that even if we lose today, the Sox will still be five games up. But when the camera panned to a shot of Manny on the bench last night, during which he happened to sneeze, then grimace, then reach for his back? Let's just say you could actually hear everyone at Prof. Thom's thinking "Oh shit".

    I'm wondering if I am only so worried because of where I live. Is this easier to take in Boston? When not surrounded by Yankees fans trying to plant the seeds of doubt into your consciousness at every turn? Or are we all sort of looking over our shoulders and not sleeping well?

    Either way, I'm not enjoying this feeling.

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    posted by FINY @ Thursday, August 30, 2007   6 comments
    Monday, August 27, 2007
    I Miss The Innocence I've Known
    I'm a pack rat. There are no two ways about it, I save EVERYTHING. Ticket stubs, programs, cute pictures small children have drawn for me. Eventually they all end up in shoe boxes stored under beds, in closets, behind chairs. Occasionally as I'm cleaning or trying to find something I'll root through them, reminisce a little, and then promptly put them back to once again begin gathering dust.

    A few weekends ago, while I was at home in Rhode Island, I was given an ultimatum. There was an entire closet filled with evidence of my sentimental nature taking up space in my parents home. I was to go through it all, throw out what I no longer remembered the significance of, and indicate what deserved saving so it could be sent to its new home: the attic.

    Some of the oldest stuff dated back to middle school. All those self-important diaries in which my apparent hatred for my mother, and love for some kid I don't even remember, was splashed across the pages. I found a small Happy Meal toy a guy I liked freshman year of high school gave to me. I found prom photos, knick-nacks, a red sox themed soda can from 1995, all of my sheet music from All-State choir, a flower Steddy brought me my sophomore year of college from his sister's wedding.

    What amazed me was how vividly I remembered almost all of the items in these boxes. Each layer revealed something I had thought once long forgotten, when in fact it was actually just deeply buried - awaiting some visual cue to come crashing back to the forefront.

    One of the items that gave me the most pause was a stack of letters written to me by one of my best friends in high school. Matt had been a few years older than me and the only way to describe my feelings for him is to say that I loved him in a way that only a girl who's never had her heart broken can. Innocently, naively, and completely. The letters were filled with what we then thought were hugely important issues. We were yet to be jaded then, untouched by the real world.

    This trip back through childhood continued this weekend when I attended a Brooklyn Cyclones game out on Coney Island, which was immediately followed by hours of riding the Cyclone and various other vomit inducing rides and playing games to win a small stuffed gorilla that I probably could have bought at a toy store for a buck. Sure I didn't grow up in Brooklyn, but it reminded me an awful lot of Rocky Point. (To all of you Rhode Islanders out there - tell me you don't still remember the theme song ... "Come with your family, come with your friends, that's the Rocky Point tradition 'cause it's summer time again!").

    As my friends and I were flung about like rag dolls on a ride called the Break Dance, I laughed with an abandon I hadn't in what felt like ages. I may only be able to vaguely remember the innocence that came along with the younger years, but it's nice to be reminded of a time when you absolutely believed in the good in the world, and your biggest concern was whether you were going to lose your lunch on the Music Express.

    side note, title of this post borrowed from the lyrics of Wilco's "Heavy Metal Drummer"

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    posted by FINY @ Monday, August 27, 2007   1 comments
    Wednesday, August 22, 2007
    Things That Are Fun
    ... When you get home from a night at the bar already knowing that the Sox won and turning on the YES network to see the Yankees losing to the Angels 18-5 while the announcers talk about how if so-and-so gets on in the 8th and has men in base he has the potential to break some sort of RBI record.

    I landed on YES too late to get the whole story, but it was still fun to hear. Cause after tonight it looks like we're going to be 6 games up and for some reason that feels a lot better than 5 games. Dunno why, but it does.

    This post brought to you by the wonderful bartender at Botanica, who makes a very stiff drink indeed. There really should be a breathalyzer on computers so you're not allowed to drunk-blog, email, etc.

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    posted by FINY @ Wednesday, August 22, 2007   2 comments
    Monday, August 20, 2007
    He's Still My Little Brother

    I still remember where I was when I found out that I had become the big sister to a little brother named Buddy (ok, that's not his real name but it's what I call him). I was sitting in the side yard of my grandparents' house in Pawtucket, RI debating with the other kids on the block whether I wanted my mom to have a boy or a girl.

    I may have been just 4 days shy of my 6th birthday, but I was still adamant. I wanted a little brother. The reasoning for this escapes me now, more than two decades later, but then, I was sure, absolutely sure.

    And for the first couple of years it was great. He was like a living doll. I'd dress him up in my Cabbage Patch Kid Clothes and stick him in a playpen with all of my stuffed animals until all you could see was his chubby little face.

    But then he learned how to get around. And more importantly, how to get into my stuff. That's when I turned to my mother and asked him if it was time for him to go back yet. And around the time I left him out of a family portrait I had to draw for school.

    The years that followed involved a lot of me being a really big bitch. All this little kid wanted in the world was to play with his big sister. He'd wait at the screen door for me to come home from school holding my Barbies out for me to play with (since that was ALL I would allow him to participate in). And for his devotion he received all of the Ken's without heads and the Barbies I had given hair cuts to. Oh and did I mention they were also without clothes? Not to mention that they lived in the next neighborhood over, so they could NEVER speak to my Barbies. That was completely against the rules.

    As I moved into my teens and began fighting with my parents, Buddy had finally reached the stage where a healthy sibling rivalry had formed. Any time I was fresh to my mother he'd run up to her, wrap his arms around her, and say "Mommy, I'd NEVER say that to you!" At which point I would promptly kick his ass. Like I said, I was kind of a bitch. But he was asking for it!

    But once I moved away to college things began to change. Six years is a pretty large age difference when you're young, but as the years pile up it suddenly seems to lessen. These days, he and I couldn't be closer, and I couldn't love the kid any more than I do. He's grown into an amazing man; smart, funny, kind of a jerk but in an endearing way.

    For his 21st birthday I wanted to do something big for him. So I did something competely uncharacteristic for me - I planned ahead. On a dreary day in March I spent 4 hours online and bought two tickets to this past Saturday's Red Sox game at Fenway. Buddy hadn't been there in somewhere around 10 years.

    With him leaving to go back to college tomorrow, I had to make sure that I warned him well in advance of his birthday that I had the tickets. Which meant I lost out on the "Oh my God" moment when he opened the present, but the look on his face as we walked up the walkway? The half-joking "Hey, hey Finy, you see that guy right there? That's David Ortiz. Right there. Like, in person." The goofy smile on his face? Totally made up for it. Nevermind the reaction when Big Papi hit the grand slam to take the lead. My God.

    There may now be a beard where dimples used to be. And he may be able to legally drink a beer now. He may even tower over me by at least 7 inches. But that day proved he still is, and always will be, my little brother.

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    posted by FINY @ Monday, August 20, 2007   6 comments
    Wednesday, August 15, 2007
    Promoting Health
    Ext.:Finy and a coworker stand outside smoking a cigarette. Behind them is a window promoting the new Botox Walk-In Clinic. The two are chatting.

    A door opens.

    Plastic Woman: Excuse me do you work at [Finy's place of employment]

    Coworker: Yes.

    Plastic Woman(with a holier-than-thou attitude) Ok, then would you mind not smoking in front of our store? We're trying to promote health here.

    Finy and Coworker wander away thinking that only in Manhattan would Botox injections be considered a health service.

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    posted by FINY @ Wednesday, August 15, 2007   4 comments
    Emotional Reset
    Someone (TomO I think it was you) said at Eddypolusa this year that the annual event is sort of an emotional reset for him. As soon as the words left his mouth I thought: Yes! YES! That's exactly it.

    In years past that reset, that sense of calm has always stayed with me for months. Not so for 2007. Faced with a boss whom I've described at length before, I came back and was working weekends, was working on my days off, was driving myself insane. The anxiety I felt between the hours of 9 and 5 was following me home, constantly nipping at my heels.

    I was headed for a breakdown and I knew it.

    And then the weekend arrived. A weekend that promised the company of some of my guy friends, some baseball, and some beer. Saturday found us in the second row of dead center field at Camden Yards watching Beckett pitch a masterful game - the only one the Sox won in the series. Saturday night there was some Mexican food, many MANY beers, and a lot of entertaining conversation.

    After a hangover-curing greasy brunch, there was a surprise sailing trip. 4 guy friends, a cooler full of beer, and my first trip on a sail boat (yes I am the worst Rhode Islander ever). As we floated past the monuments, swam in the placid waters of the Potomac, and talked about absolutely nothing for hours on end, I felt further away from work than I had since my days on the St. Croix.

    But a 2am arrival time back in NYC and a morning that came far too fast brought Monday crashing down on my head. And then I did the smartest thing I've done in a long time.

    I called out sick.

    A lazy day of no work, sleep, some tv watching, and more sleep found me sitting in the office yesterday morning with a slight smile on my face as my boss called me insubordinate. For planning a happy hour. After hours. For a coworker who was leaving.

    I'd officially figured out how to emotionally reset myself. And damn did it feel good.





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    posted by FINY @ Wednesday, August 15, 2007   2 comments
    Wednesday, August 01, 2007
    Just Walk Away
    I should be writing about how excited I am about the Gagne trade.

    Or how I leave this evening bound for Rhode Island and a tradition that has stood with my high school friends since somewhere in the mid - to - late nineties.

    I should be writing about loving the summer, that song "Naive" by the Kooks, and how listening to it while walking down my tree-lined Brooklyn street always puts a bounce in my step.

    But instead, my chest is so tight that it feels like I'm having a panic attack. Because I have a problem ... I work too hard.

    I am about to spend two of my "vacation" days working from home. So much went wrong at the office this week (of course - always on a week you're taking time off, right?) that I actually broke down into tears in the office today. None of it was my fault, and I think I handled it really well, but the problem with having a boss who doesn't understand what you do is that - she doesn't understand what you do. So when things go wrong, she has no idea how much time it takes to fix, and how that time is time you can't spend on other less-important projects. Hell, she doesn't even always understand what's important and what's not.

    So instead of heading to Rhode Island relaxed, happy, and excited to sit around getting wasted with people I've known for two decades, I'm leaving my apartment wishing there was some way I could add ten extra hours to my day. Or just stop time altogether so I can catch up.

    I need to learn how to walk away. This isn't healthy. It's just a job. But unfortunately, I'm proud of the work I do, and even knowing this wasn't my fault, I feel like I've let people down. Even if those people don't realize that they're asking unreasonable things. Even if they don't seem to appreciate my willingness to give up precious time with my family and friends in order to work on days I shouldn't be.

    I'm so not going to be able to sleep tonight.

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    posted by FINY @ Wednesday, August 01, 2007   5 comments
    About Me

    Name: FINY
    Home: New York, New York, United States
    About Me: Just a New England girl trying to make it in NYC. Email me at: soxfaninnyc [at] gmail [dot] com
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