One Big Old Night

I was speaking to an old friend yesterday and we were trying to remember a particular night in the past a little over 10 years ago. It was the night of the Fordham Prep High School senior prom. The gears of our minds were grinding, our eyes were squinted and in a far off place and we threw out some stories that were hopelessly funny but completely off the mark.

I tried to remember what we were wearing in hopes that the still snap-shots that we poured over for hours in plastic flowered photo albums would come alive and yell to us, with obnoxious teenage confidence, the story of what had happened.

And so the stories of nights rushed in.

Pink sequins and drooping corsages, and he really meant well even though he picked out feathery amateurish carnations for me. Sweating beer bottles and endless exuberant dancing to Billy Joel. Every time we heard the song it was like we found water in the desert. Snippets of conversations like confetti falling steadily around us. Someone stepped on my foot. In the bathroom fixing hair and makeup, asking how you look even though the person responding never takes their eyes off of themselves. Misunderstandings, loosing purses, forced dramatic conversations. Watching his every move. Sweating, grabbing, laughing. Trying to hold it together. Cash in bunches in your wallet like a 10 year old at the candy store. Lights are too bright, I cant believe you said that! I will have a glass of water. Its so late its early again.

And we realized that about 5 years of our lives had blended seamlessly into One Big Night, there was virtually no distinction, it was one hazy, buzzing, foolish, funny bundle.

And we laughed.

The Longest Day

Have you ever had one of those days when you come home at night and you feel older than you were in the morning? You feel like you dont even know the person you were this morning because it was so long ago. If your day were a painting, there would have to be hazy blue atmosphere painted in to show the distance from the morning mountains to the clear night sitting before you.

Nothing groundbreaking even happened today, I didnt graduate or have a birthday or experience some such poignant moment. It was just a day like any other, rode the bus stared out the window onto the pond at the top of the park, sun fell on the last moments of perfectly colored fall foliage as it stood poised precariously at the end of its reign on the trees.

I met up with a friend and we talked about our progress and we have talked a lot about our lives, but tonight I got a sudden sense like we might really be going somewhere. Even though we sat in a diner, like any diner around the city, harsh lighting cast on our not-so-great food, sturdy dishware, encylopedic menus, nothing special really. But the waiter never rushed us with the check, so there was time for relaxation and sincere reflection.

And even though I am not hyped up on too much caffeine or woozy and idealistic from too much wine, I can say with certainty tonight that I am excited for the days ahead.

Patience Rules

I learned a lesson yesterday. Never get angry with anyone until you have all the facts, and even then—patience is probably the best option if you want to accomplish anything.

I had requested information from a venue we are interested in having our wedding and they never sent it. So I requested it again, they never sent it. Again I asked for it, never sent. I was beginning to get really angry and wondering how they could be so flaky. Didnt they want our business?

Then yesterday I had absolutely HAD it, so I wrote an email that was on the cusp of angry, just ever so slightly assertive. And they called me, they had tried to send it to me 4 times already and I guess it was going to my junk mail folder, which I dont check, and then I deleted it. I felt like a bit of a fool, so I apologized and thanked them.

So, two lessons were learned actually, the one stated above, and the other: check your junk mail folder peroidically there might be more than junk in there.

Work on Paper

Yesterday I was asked to send my resume to someone who will be writing a recommendation for me for graduate school. I was calm at the thought of this because at the ripe old age of 28, I have a well thought out resume that is up to date and has been spell checked 14 times. I have spent countless hours making sure the Goudy old Style font is just right and that the word spacing allows for my internships to be included on the bottom, without anything looking cramped. I am really growing up.

Until slowly, like a foul smell blowing in, I reached the conclusion that the resume that I have polished and honed for 6 years, no longer applies to my current aspiring scientist situation. I don't think that resumes define people, but I felt a jolt when I realized that its finally time to reinvent myself, on paper.

It is strange to think that I woke up so many mornings and got myself to work and tried to look presentable for meetings, and tried to fix the computers as best I could and made sure all the lines of text locked to the guides. And now, aside from a general idea of compentence, none of it matters. Although I suppose leaving any job is leaving behind the feeling that the details of it matter.

My old resume is a time capsule and I can roll it up with and place it in a box with a bunch of other musty and dusty trinkets. I know that those design years helped me get where I am today and helped shape me as a person, but it just feels scary and sad now that it is over, really over.

Unfinished Things

The other day I was in the museum and I noticed an unfinished painting and it intrigued me. I love to see process, even if the progress of the piece is now frozen in time.

I thought about unfinished things and why I like them and then I realized it is because we are all unfinished paintings, some of us at different stages than others,

Inside the Machine

When you first take a job, you are interested in how things work and what tasks you are responsible for. This is only the first superficial level of understanding how a system like an office or a studio or a lab are run.

It is so important and illuminating when you figure out how things REALLY run. As in: how the unspoken hierarchy of people is arranged and how it influences facts and progress. I have always found this a difficult thing to figure out, but some people are geniuses at it and it can make up for miles of deficiencies in hand and brain.

Last night I was reminded of someone who is extremely cunning and deceptive but, to my astonishment, manages to engender respect and adoration from everyone she encounters. She worked at my last place of work and, needless to say, I hated her. But it did me no good, she had a one way ticket to the tower of power and I was just, well, a loser in comparison.

This woman was evil, green slime leaked out of her pores, practically. But she was a magician, things happened before my eyes that could not be explained by logic or science. I hated her and her ways with such vengeance, but I admired her too. She had the only skill that matters in the end, people skills.

Again, I am reminded of how people skills trump even the most refined quiet skill. I am hit with this realization time and time again but I don’t always know what it means to have people skills. It does not mean you are honest, it means you talk a lot but you don't have to have anything worthy to say, it means you smile a lot and kid around with the people above you and it means you are confident far beyond your means.

I like to find out how these internal political systems run, and about the people who exploit them, but it takes me a while and once I have figured it out, it is usually too late for me. I have already been branded, and it is all but over.

A Peony is a Poem

A friend wrote this line to me in an email on the topic of peonies and I thought it was a perfectly worded ode to the flower:

“I love peonies, they are too beautiful for their own good, they cant even hold themselves up- they are so soft I just want to pet them like an animal.”