Sleepless in Brooklyn

It is 2:11 am and I cannot sleep.

I woke up at 1:10 am. Why?  It got me thinking about Michelle Slatalla’s column (my fav) in the NY Times from March 12, (just read it two days ago) entitled “It’s Time for the 2 A.M. Lullaby”. She writes about the change in her sleeping habits and waking up in the middle of the night, once she hit her 40’s.

Uh Oh, I am 40.

One of the woman she interviewed told her, “No matter when you sleep, what you need, is to feel secure.” So I asked myself, did I feel secure? Not really. I could hear the TV in the apartment upstairs and someone was banging in an apartment downstairs. I do not like noise, my ears have the qualities of a dog that sniffs for drugs. If a noise is being made, I hear it. Meca our 9 month old kitty, who usually never has time for me in daylight becomes very loving around 1 am and burrows her head under my chin, while covering my face with wet kisses from her nose and purring like a car that backfires. Actually this is the part that does make me feel secure. I’ll take any love I can get from her.

Then the fact that I am 40 got me thinking about Trader Joes. My husband and I went grocery shopping yesterday around 4pm at the TJ on 14th street in Manhattan. I always say never again. The chaos there is incredible. It is impossible to shop with the amount of people trying to get down the aisles, but we managed to to leave with a bag of groceries that cost us $48.00.

We were standing in a huge line, next to be called to a cashier and I said to the young man directing “traffic”, “Have you been to the one in Brooklyn?”. He said yes, and that it used to be a bank. I said, “Yes, my bank, it used to be Independence Bank and that is where I went 20 years ago.” Then I thought OMG and said, “How old are you, like 20?” and he said 22. And then he said, ” 20 years ago I was 2 and didn’t know what a checking account was, I wish I was 2 again.” And I said , “Wow, now I have had one of those experiences with a younger person who I consider a peer, but really am not. I was an adult when you were a baby.”

31 minutes later, I am still here awake. Meca has left me for a comfortable spot in the living room with her peer Bella, a 3 year old Tabby.

Isn’t She Lovely?

I want to welcome N (my mom) as my very first  blueberrydumpling editor.

I wish I could record all the thoughts in my head as they come up. Sometimes I think of things to write about, but if I wait too long to jot them down, they lose momentum after the thought has left the moment.

It has been one week and three days of being unemployed.

Here are some highlights:

Daily, I continue to lose track of the day of the week.

My friend J and I went to see Bride Wars last Friday (opening day). I recommend it if you want to escape for two hours to laugh (and cry). We walked down Court Street and went into Rapisarda, a hypnotic shop full of wonderful handbags, wallets, jewelry and other fun items. I, being a bag/wallet-aholic, actually contemplated some wallets that cost $180. Then I remembered two important words, UNEMPLOYED and BUDGET. We had the best chat with the owner, who is from Brazil. J was very happy to find a large assortment of resin jewelry by R. Sobral. Then we went to Marquet Patisserie, which sits in the same space Roberto Cappucino used to be. I was sad to see they recently painted over the odd faced cherubs on the bathroom walls.

Our cat Meca was spayed last week and has had a slow recovery with numerous trips back to the vet. Spending a lot of time at home, I have gotten to know her and Bella’s, our spirited tabby, daily routines. I offered to be in charge of their datebooks but they declined.

Target had leftover Christmas items disorderly placed in two aisles in the back of the store, marked down 90%. I scored a shortbread cookie in the shape of Santa with his portrait on top. 19 cents. Worked great with my new budget.

M and I went to the Outsider Art Fair. Amazing and inspiring art- I want it all to hang on my walls. On the way an erratic and angry man approached us as we were standing on the platform at Franklin Ave. I automatically said “sorry” because I assumed he was going to ask for money. He jumped back and screamed, “Sorry? Sorry for what, why you sayin you sorry? You are a racist. I just got out of jail and on and on and on.” I thought of two things, why did I say I was sorry, what did I have to be sorry about? And the Law and Order I had watched the night before where a mentally ill man, just released from Rikers (without any medication) killed a woman on the subway platform. Yikes. M not being engaged said something about him being a man approaching two women and yelling at them. The man straightened up and it was as if the sun rose across his face. His peacock feathers puffed out and he said, “Thank you, I am a MAN.” M had diffused the whole thing by appealing to his ego, indirectly, before I became a L&O episode. I offered him the cahnge in my pocket, he refused but ended up taking it and busted out singing, “Isn’t She Lovely?”

One very positive bit of news, part of budgeting has meant refraining from the numerous bottles of wine we consume each week. But thanks to Trader Joe’s and their $2.99 bottles of wine (love the merlot) we do not need to deprive ourselves.

Yesterday ended on a happy note, my February issue of Domino magazine was in my mailbox.

The Rain has Stopped

Sometimes technology amazes me, well more like all the time.

Here I am at one of my new offices, Starbucks. My first meeting with myself took place this morning between 10:05 and 10:59am at Union Square. Then I met a friend for lunch and here I am at the Starbucks on Park Ave South and 29th Street in the back seating area with my laptop.

The woman to my right is working out all the kinks for some celebrity bookings on Conan, Jimmy, Regis and some interviews with the Daily News. She believes that everything will come together before press time. The young lady next to me was telling her friend she is going to get a massage, a delayed birthday present. The even younger girl in front of me was telling her cell phone about her doctor’s appointment and the treatment he gave her for Silent Reflux.

I sit here juggling emails to my mother from my AOL address, emails with a KittyKind volunteer from my Yahoo address and IM-ing with a friend on Facebook, now let’s make that two friends.  And I am working on my blog.

Today is day three of my freedom. Yesterday I woke up feeling a little gloomy but at 7am I went to Starbucks around the corner and sat there with my computer until 11:30am. I asked the cashier what the deal was with coffee refills when using a registered Starbucks gift card. He said the refills were free. I told him I had just lost my job and was looking for ways to conserve. He gave me my receipt and I realized he didn’t charge me for the coffee. I told him I wanted to pay and he said “that’s ok” and I said “no , really I want to pay”.

Francois, a local, was so saddened by my lost job he said he would look for something for me in his company. I said thank you but needed to figure out the next step. I am not even sure what he does.

This morning I woke up a little sad but left with my husband to take our cat Meca to the vet to be spayed. Then I transported a few cats back to KittyKind. I really love listening to people talk about how they see things in the world. I get so caught up in my view. A man is holding an interview with a lady close by. Something about hiring a group of full timers at a new startup.

I think it is time to turn off the computer and just sit. By the way it rained all day and has finally stopped.

Walking, Singing and Dancing

Today is my first day of freedom?

Today is my first day of not going to the job I have been going to for the past 4 1/2 years.

I woke up this morning with a vague sense of excitement. Fear crept in for a moment, only one and I remembered that I was free but, without a paying job. Holy guacamole. Then the dream came back to me. Pink dresses and a wedding I was not invited too.

I went into the ladies room at my ex-job. And out came my ex-coworkers twin sister in a bubblegum pink dress. She was happily skipping around. Her sister, my ex-coworker was in the ladies room also in a pink dress. In real life I have never see her wear pink, only black and various shades of black. Once I had knocked on her office door, the sun had already gone down and I jumped back after I opened the door. There she sat in black, head to toe. Her long, luxurious black hair fell freely on either side of her face. And the big black sunglasses were on. The only light, her laptop screen.

In my dream she was getting married to her high school sweetheart, the guy that had a margarita machine in his Cadillac, true story. I was shocked she was getting married and I sat with her, her friends and family in the office. She put her arms around her niece and looked happy. I wondered why she wasn’t this way with me. (Still a dream). They all left and I started to cry because as much as I couldn’t stand her, I wasn’t invited to the wedding. To top it off my ex-boss calls me into his office and as a “terminated from my job gift” he gave me a bag of tortilla chips that was already opened and practically empty.

I left at 7am with my husband for a 1/2 walk. The sky slowly brightened to an overcast gray. I thought about the dream, about the people living in the houses I passed, applying for unemployment (scary), my dentist appointment later today (scarier), about all the possibilities that lie ahead.

(taking a brief dance break—”take me away, take me away, a secret place, ——— escape”….popular pop song)

I stopped by the community garden we belong too, it has been months. It was completely naked. Joe’s two yellow rubber ducks were frozen in his mini pond. Our curry and lavender were still going strong and the curry smell was still so overwhelmingly loving. Other gardeners have been working the compost bins.

Off to sing “Hey there Delilah…..don’t you worry about the distance…..close your eyes…..Ohhh it’s what you do to me, OH it’s what….”

A L O T

Yesterday was my last day of work at my place of employment for the last 4 and a half years. It was an uneventful day. The people that hugged and kissed me were the corner coffee cart guy, actually he gave me a free coffee, the mail lady, the night porter, the day porter and the lobby attendant. The four people I had contact with at our printer were sincerely sad to here it was my last day. They made my job more enjoyable.

To celebrate, I had a physical scheduled with Dr. R. at 4:30pm.

Dr. R. was recommended by a good friend and he turned out to be the doctor I always wanted and will probably soon loose because of a change in health insurance. His office is off of Washington Square Park and I feel as if I am sitting in a doctors office located on Main Street USA. The office and medical furniture was his fathers. And he is hysterical and I can’t help but see Jackie Mason when I look at him.

He asked some questions and then motioned to the scale. I said, “Look Dr. R, I just lost my job. Do you want to push me over the edge?” He laughed and asked, “Give me a round about number for your weight.” I answered, ” A  L   O  T”. More laughter, alot of it.

Today my husband and I saw Marley and Me. Five hours later my eyes are still swollen. I had tears in my eyes during the opening scene and the REM song about happy people made me feel that all is possible in the world.

Good news, Bride Wars opens January 9th. I have it marked down in my calendar.

Happy New Years!

Terminated

Yesterday at about 3pm, my boss and I pulled two chairs up to the round table in the center of the room and I was canned. I was let go, laid off, relieved of my position, I was, as he put it, being terminated. This was not a shock, as I often wondered how it did not happen sooner. I have been telling anyone that would listen that the magazine I have been working at was going under. I was the realistic one. However, for one brief moment, after hearing his words, I was like “What the …..????” He apologized, told me I could get unemployment, he would sign any necessary papers and if I needed anything to further my career to let him know.

This was not because of the depressed economic state the world is in. This was due to years of mismanagement by someone who was in no position to be in charge. Enough said there, on to my future.

I left for the day. I had to tell someone. While I waited for the elevator I poked my head into the acupuncturists office down the hallway and told the office manager I had recently become friendly with. She gave me her condolences. By the time I got home there were emails from her and messages on myFacebook wall offering her assistance in helping me file for unemployment.

I got a seat on the B train and started thinking. I began to get excited thinking of all the things I could do….set up and Etsy account, sell Disney contact sheet/photo collages, I could go to DC around the inauguration and although I would not get anywhere close to the swearing in I could photograph all the people wearing Obama inspired clothes and pins. I could take Meca to the vet to have her spayed and pick her up at a reasonable time, instead of getting her after work. I could babysit, cat sit, work on my blogs, look for funding for the organization I want to work for….the list went on, all the way to Newkirk Avenue and then two stops on the Q to Avenue J.

At midnight, I lay in bed and began to freak out.
My husband and I talked. I was able to sleep.

Today is a new day.

P.S. I have started some pages, to the right to list my budgeting efforts and conserving ideas.

I Like Starbucks Better….

I woke up at 4 am and could not fall back to sleep. But, then I opened my eyes, sat up and looked at the clock. 6:31am. I sat there for a few moments and then realized that something was wrong. We had overslept. We made the bed, showered, dispensed the cat food and medicine and were out the door at 7:10am. Since I did not have my morning cup of mint tea I decided to stop at Starbucks on the way to the subway. When I turned the corner, the small, grayish homeless man yelled, “Good morning, spare any change?” As I approached him I said “I don’t have any change.” He said he would take food. I told him I was going to the deli across the street (to pick up a bagel) and would he like some coffee. He replied, “I like Starbucks better, their coffee (pointing to the deli) is to watery.” I said, “Well, Starbucks is more expensive, how about some tea?”. He agreed to tea with sugar and lemon but when I crossed the street he yelled out, “Miss Miss, milk, no lemon.”

I handed him the tea, he thanked me and again said, “Starbucks is so good.”

Adjusting Her Sheitel

The other morning I was watching a young Chasidic lady adjust her sheitel on the subway.

It got me thinking back to my school days at Bais Yaakov School for girls in Baltimore. I was one of 3 non-religious Jewish kids who attended the school.

However two of my closets friends were religious, Gittie and Sima. Gittie lived in semi-attached house and I remember it as always being dark. She lived with her father, mother and beautiful sister, Esther. I remember spending many Shabbat’s with her family and looking forward to the weekly Friday night storytelling which usually coincided with eating the chicken soup. At least I think it did. She had a Bubby, a grandmother who lived nearby. I remember spending a Sukkot with her and thought it was so cool that we ate our meal on the back porch, enclosed in a straw hut as they passed the food through the kitchen window. The top of the Sukkot was partially open so it was as if we were dining with god. There was a bowl of root beer candies in her living room, the ones shaped like a barrel. I would take a handful and stuff them in pocket to eat at synagogue. They attended an old stone Shul and the woman had to sit upstairs. Gittie had a small box of miniature toys. I don’t remember the meaning or history of that box but I also thought it was this magical treasure box.

Our family dentist, Dr. Godhelf, also had a small treasure box of tiny little toys you could hold between two fingers. It was the only highlight of visiting his office. However I do remember enjoying reading the various copies of Highlights Magazine he had lying around the waiting room.

Then there was my friend Sima. She was an outspoken and rebellious girl. I slept at her house often, a big old Victorian home with lots of rooms. I remember her bedroom being gigantic. Her mother had a business in the house, she soldSheitel’s, the wigs Chasidic ladies wear once they get married. We used to talk about Shaun Cassidy and once Mrs. Broder caught us saying a very bad word and sent us to the principals, Rabbi Diskind and Rabbi Solomon. I was horrified and embarrassed but I don’t remember any kind of punishment. Once, a couple of years ago while riding the B11 bus in Brooklyn, I struck up a conversation with a young Chasidic woman. It turns out she went to Baltimore to buy her Sheitel’s form Sima’s mother.

Give Me Some Sugar

It began yesterday with a kiss from the woman walking her dog. “Hey honey, give me some sugar.” Then a big kiss landed on my right cheek. She also said hello to the lady walking behind me. The other lady fell in step with me on my left and she said, “Are you a nurse?”. I replied, “No, usually people say I look like a teacher.” We talked about the greatness of Target and the Applebees opening Monday around the corner (hooray a restaurant we can walk too). We both agreed that the 8am sun on our faces felt so good, almost like a late winter, early spring day.

We descended to the subway, she boarded the #2 and I waited for the #5 to come in. The platform was packed and I felt that “get a seat when the door opens quickly” feeling. I took a seat next to an older Caribbean lady. She seemed very serious. I pulled out Eckhart Tolle’s new book, A New Earth, and since it had been awhile since I read it I opened it to page 201. He asked, ‘Do I want the present moment to be my friend or my enemy?’ I thought, I want to it to be my friend, and in one split second all the angst and inner commotions dropped away because I became aware as I continued to ask myself this question over and over.

All of a sudden the woman next to me says, “Can I give you this?” as she handed me a business card. She was in the travel business and told me she could help me plan a trip. I thanked her and looked at the card and noticed the word “glory” in the website address.

This afternoon I walked around Saks taking some pictures. When I was waiting for the elevator to go back up to work an old man was leaning against the wall and on his cane. A young Spanish guy, after realizing his sandwich was leaking, was not happy. The old guy laughed to lighten the mood. He reminded me of my grandfather who recently passed away. I missed him at that moment and pictured him standing there. When the guy with the leaking sandwich got off a woman commented on his mood and said jokingly, “Life is tough.” I said that should be his biggest problem.

A Chapstick Thank You

Some nights when I leave work I stop by the newsstand on the corner of 5th Avenue and 46th Street. I sometimes buy a pack of Mentos or Sprees. The Asian man and wife that own the stand are always so friendly and gracious. A couple of weeks ago I noticed the husband was handing out white envelopes to the customers. When I handed him money for my Mentos he asked “Did you get envelope?”. I said “No.” He frantically collected an envelope checked inside and looked upset that something was missing. He grabbed a Chapstick, put it in the envelope and sealed it up and handed it to me. I said “Uh, thanks.”

I walked to the train and when I sat down I opened the envelope. Basically it stated that the city is building brand new newsstands to replace the old ones and his newsstand would be closed end of October and would re-open the beginning of January. It also thanked me, the customer for my value and patronage to his business. I was so touched by the letter and theChapstick.

A week later, I handed him an envelope. It was a homemade card that thanked him for always smiling and being so nice whenever I frequented his stand.