New Year's Eve

is finally here.

I say that like I enjoy the Holiday. The only day of the year I enjoy less than this one is Valentine's Day. I am just happy that there are only four more hours left of 2004 and I am looking forward to starting 2005.

Cara and Karen are coming over. We were going to just stay in and be low key, but then I randomly ran into Chris Frank the other night, so now we are going out with him to some party one of his friends is having. I was really looking forward to a simple quiet night in, but now that I am dressed and made up I admit I am a little excited.

I wrote everything that needs to be said in my written diary. Happy new year - on to bigger and better. It can only go up from here, right?

Slow day

Well, I have been offline for a while, because, wouldn't you know it, just when I have free time and nothing better to do than write, my internet connection at home decides to go on the fritz. It has been a lazy week, but a good one.

My Christmas kicked off the week well. I left the city on Friday (Christmas Eve) and my dad picked me up from the train station, a job usually given to mom. He looked the same, good. I am always amazed at how little my dad seems to change or age over the years. I don't think he recognized me until I was about a foot in front of him, though, so his eyes must have aged a bit at least. I hope that is all for now.

The 24th is the birthday of Suanne's father Norman. I used to see him and his wife Beverly fairly frequently back before I moved to New York, but I never really knew them. I did always like Norman though- he has a fiesty sense of humor and you can tell is just a genuinely warm person. Beverly died about a year and a half ago. He is still pretty torn up, as would be expected after 50 years of marriage. We took him out for a (76th) birthday dinner at Christo's, his favorite restaurant and a regular staple of their family. He is really quite a wonderful guy, and I am glad I got to see that as well as how close he is with Suanne and my dad. In one night I felt as close to him as my own Papa, if not closer since his sense of humor is more along the lines of mine, not the MacGregor clan.

It reminded me of when my maternal grandfather came to my college graduation, only two months after my grandmother had died. Oh, what a weekend that was. Not even a weekend, since he drove us all so crazy in less than 24 hours that my aunt drove him back to New York before the first day was even over! But he was so destroyed over my grandmother and broke down in tears on my living room couch. This was a man who didn't cry. He made others cry - often and with shame, fear, and hatred, but he did not. Of course, he wasn't the same man by then, but I was just coming to see that at the time. Not that Norman was like that - at all - but it just made me think, and be thankful that he had Suanne and my dad so close to keep him company and in good spirits.

Saturday was Christmas, and it was another good day. Great, really. I have to say, that in as much as my mother's side of the family is admittedly dysfunctional, my father's side is practically taken from a Hallmark card. What is ironic is how much I used to idolize my mother's side and turn away from the father's. I have since done a complete 180.

I was somewhat in the spotlight because of my move. Many of these are people who have never been to LA, let alone California or even the west coast. They had all heard about my move, but not any of the details, so I got to deliver the same recorded soundtrack over and over, which is just fine, since I love talking about it and even more so, love having something to talk about with my relatives at all.

There were about 30 people in total. Sandra and Karl, my aunt and uncle, are probably the most cosmopolitan of the group. I love them. I bonded with them a few years ago when they planned a trip to New York, and we got to sit and act like human beings, outside of the MacBlogger farce that is forced on us at Holiday times. Karl inspired me to start a blog, and they have a nice web page more advanced than anything I could do right now.

Their sons - my cousins - are Mike and Adam, who were there with their families, which amount to a small heard of the best looking children that you've never seen on a magazine cover. Mike is married to Lynn, who I have loved since the moment I met her, and they have 6 kids. Yes, six. Adam is married to Jenny, who I really like as well, and they have one daughter, Lily, who is adorable. And I have to state for the record that Mike and Lynn's kids, especially the two oldest boys, are so attractive they should have been modeling from birth. I think I have slightly inappropriate crushes on them - even the girls. Not only are all the kids attractive, they are the best-behaved, most well-mannered kids I have ever met. They all live in one house with an ice skating rink in the back that Mike built, go to church regularly, sing in the choir, play the piano, as well as football and every other sport. Boys as well as girls. Okay, enough about them.

My grandparents, Grammy and Papa, were there as well. They must be closing in on 80 now, if not there already. They are starting to show the signs of aging, but, like my father, hide it well. My Grammy had a back operation a few months ago, and that has slowed her down considerably, but she is still in good spirits. One thing that hasn't slowed down was her consumption of spirits, as she had a full glass in her hand the entire day. Gotta love it. Papa must have a weak sense of smell because he used what smelled like the entire bottle of Old Spice, but I was glad to still have it on my coat when I left.

Barbara and Craig were there, with their two kids, Tim and Matt (my other cousins) who are now grown. Tim is 2 years younger than me and we always got along. Shortly into his first year of college, he was diagnosed as bipolar. He seemed perfectly fine at Christmas, but then of course, it's not something you can just identify and categorize, like chicken pox or a bee sting. Matt, on the other hand, is successful in real estate, lives on his own, summers as a police officer of some sort, and picked up a set of social skills. He actually gave me a huge hug and a smile when I walked in. I was so impressed - and touched.

The rest of the partygoers were from Karl's side of the family. Nice people. Also, Jenny's mom came, who I really liked, and Norman came with us as well. I think that was hard for him, but I'm sure better than being alone.

I spent the rest of the weekend with my mom. We watched TV, drank lots of wine, and played Yahtzee. Watched about a foot of snow come down. I came back to the city on Monday. Did a whole lot of nothing - lots of TV, some shopping, the gym. All of my gym boyfriends seem to be in town. I am so antisocial at the gym though, and don't talk to any of them.

Today I am doing my obligatory day at the office. Effie and Daniela are here, so it is a good group. I do have work to do, but nothing pressing, and therefore I am not doing it. Instead I have posted the LONGEST BLOG EVER and am reading about the tsunami that has devastated Sri Lanka and the entire area surrounding the Indian Ocean. I would rather be doing something to help the efforts than sitting here useless. I remember after September 11th, when Maria and I couldn't stand to sit in front of the TV any longer, we decided to take clothes to the firefighters. I gave away my "letters", and still smile at the thought of some firefighter somewhere wearing a celestial AZD sweatshirt.

Christmas in New York

The last 24 hours have been fun. I've been given a tourist's eye view of the city and I have to say it's much nicer when you are actually with a tourist, as I could appreciate the beauty of it all and not just be annoyed at the crowds.

Natalie came in last night and we went to dinner at Town. I picked her up at her hotel, which was nicely decorated in Christmas fashion, and, at 54th and 6th, was right near the heart of the festivities. Town was okay - a bit too fancy for both our tastes but we had fun catching up and gossiping over good food and wine. This morning we (well she) had a plug on the Today show, so we hit that for an hour. Get this - one of the camera guys actually recognized me from last time or one of my many stints there, and made a comment. I am old school.

We went to Norma's for breakfast - so good - and then walked through Rock center and that whole area which is really nice when you can take the time to appreciate it. It was such a nice day too - in the high 30's or 40's - unlike the last few days which have been in the teens. We came back to my office for an hour, did a bit of nothing, then went back out so she could see the windows at Macy's. Then, because we hadn't eaten enough, we went to lunch at Coffee Shop. An entire day and we never even ran out of things to talk about. It's funny because we are very alike in many ways, especially in terms of things we like and don't like, but our lives our SO different. Aside from living in Minnesota, she is married to her high school sweetheart and has twin boys. But she still is a party girl and a pr girl and I guess things just transcend.

Now I am back in the office and it is the biggest waste of my time. I am slightly buzzed from a glass of wine at lunch, and all the girls in the next room are talking about cracking open a bottle of wine at 4. I don't even want any because since I have been stuffing my face all day, I want to hit the gym tonight. I can't believe I even have to come in tomorrow. I need to bring a book with me or something - it is so pathetic!

Let's see - not much interesting to report. Very slow at work. I mean VERY slow. Excited to have dinner tonight with Natalie and possibly Andrea Schwartz. I wish I could tell them - or Natalie, at least- about LA, but it is still premature. I have started applying to jobs online and have contacted my work friends on the west coast, but don't expect much to happen, especially before the holidays. I've decided to tell Mary soon after the break. Then it will all be real - GULP.

Moskowitz this PM; Today show tomorrow AM. That's it. Four days till X-mas, 10 til New Years, and 2004 is going out without a bang but not exactly quietly either. How will I remember this year? Well, as the year I traveled a lot for work. The year of L + C. The year I decided to boot New York and move to LA. The summer in Point Pleasant, with the most motley of motley crews. Glamorama, Hello Kitty, and Romper Room (wait, I already said that).

Ten years ago I had graduated from High School and was starting college up at Syracuse. Living on the sixth floor of Boland Hall (610) with Kim Bart, down the hall from Hilary, Letha, Courtney, and more, downstairs from Jim and Brian, upstairs from Chuck and Adam, and my god - what good times. Other than my having a job and living in Manhattan, quite little has actually changed since then. Kind of scary.

Haiku

I just have to say
That in three months from today
I'll be in L.A.

That time of year

Today
3 PM - Office party at Pastis
7 PM - Cousin's Holiday party at apartment
9 PM - Mike and Co. party at Onyx

Tomorrow
8 PM - Aaron and Tony's party - forget where
10 PM - Onyx party (skipping that)

Sunday
Shop at Target
Wrap Gifts

Shopping for Black Boxes

So, the news has been broken. It was an ideal time after our client on the conference call surprised us with the good news about The View on Thursday. And, it looks like we are only working with her through the end of January, not Feb. I thought it was odd to have 2 and a half months notice. So, that definitely ups my ante.

I was reassured not to worry, that I was a great publicist and could work on fashion, in addition to building up the beauty side of the business. Of course that's not what I want, and only makes me see that I WILL need to give notice soon, and wrap things up. That makes me excited, to be getting the hell out of there, but now I need to get a job! It has always been relatively easy for me in NYC, but to do so in LA, and from across the country, at that? Now I am scared! Who do I think I am? Aahh!

Just kidding. I am still in denial about the reality of it all. I have good PR contacts out there, and I've always pulled through. I guess what's murky now is that month of Feb when I won't be working, but won't necessarily be moved in anywhere. Unless I bit the bullet and stayed with someone. Not quite ready to think about that yet. I could stay here and work throughout Feb, but that thought doesn't really do it for me either.

This is when I really need something to fall into my lap - a boy will do as well.

Decisions, decisions...

So I was supposed to "hear" the news today but it didn't happen. It's probably so that I don't get discouraged and give up on the whole thing - especially when I still have two months to work on it - but I SO already am discouraged and just checked out. It didn't help that we got a crazy call today about something that could have been handled otherwise. The whole thing just drives me nuts.

So now I am seriously thinking of leaving sooner. First of all, there will be very little to do after the Holidays - just housekeeping stuff. Second, there will really be so little for me to do - that is, unless I become suddenly eager to take on more fashion or accessory accounts. If roles were reversed, I would fire me - save the salary. Oddly enough, however, I am really valued. Nice to know - but it's confusing.

The problem with quitting sooner is money. Say I left at the end of January. Ideally, I could go to LA for a week in Feb and interview - assuming I got interviews - but then I'd be unemployed here for 7 weeks with no paycheck. (Note: if I got fired I would at least get unemployment). I could stay with a friend, but I'd still have to pay for my flight (say $300) plus rent a car ($???) and also buy a suit or two and shoes and a bag since my clothes are all SO New York.

One scenario could be that I GET a job sooner, and could therefore start sooner and make money; however, I don't have Ted's place til March 19th. I guess I could stay with him or a friend or sublet while I start, but that is a lot of work and kind of stressful. Then again, quite honestly, if I am unemployed for all that time I will have nothing better to do than look for a sublet.

The flip side is if I don't get a job sooner. I am out a few hundred bucks (and I may have to fly back and forth more than once). I am not just OUT a few hundred, I'll be in debt already. I am stuck in freezing cold New York in February with nothing to do all day and no money to spend anyway.

I guess the smart thing to do is put my feelers out now. See if there are any opportunities on the horizon in the first place. Because the thought of staying where I am is excrutiating.

Houston, we have contact

With VIPB. He smiled and said hi to me in the gym today, and then he came to work on the machine next to me, so we chatted. Crush aborted. He is definitely older. Great f'in body, but older. He also has a very thick lawn-guyland accent, and though he has a good smile, you can tell by his teeth he is older. He had a splint on his wrist, and was telling me about cortisone shots. I had nothing to say in return. Oh well. He still has an amazing body. And friendly. And nice deep voice - big turn on. I'll still call him VIPB but he has moved down a notch. ; )

Mean Girls - nostalgia for my bad days

Just watched Mean Girls with teen drama queen Lindsay Lohan - who looked fantastic in that movie by the way. Post boob-job but pre-Paris Hilton influence. The last of her innocence. Because we're best friends.

Anyway, it reminded me of two completely awful mean things I did as a teenager, that were so bad I never actually wrote about. And, come to think about, never spoke about again after the fact. Well, here I go, admitting to the crimes...

In seventh grade, I had a tough year. I was forced to spend seven periods a day with the same 25 kids, none of whom I was particularly friendly with. Among the exclusive clique of popular girls and the larger bunch of nobodies, I was stuck somewhere in the middle. Toward the spring, however, I had sprung, and boys had started to notice me, which ultimately forced the girls to pay attention as well. The two things us girls did have in common were a hatred for our teacher, and a love for passing notes.

A big (sorry, HUGE) thing in seventh grade was to pass notes, and this bothered our teacher more than just about anything else. Now, I'm guessing when you teach middle school, you really have to pick your battles, and while some teachers forbade gum chewing, others insisted on alphabetical seating, ours chose to focus on note-passing. To each her own.

One day, I got it in my head to write an anonymous note, the subject of which would say really awful things about our teacher. I wish I could remember them only for the sake of feeling regret for it now. Well, somehow, I elected myself to do it. I guess I kind of knew that she would never suspect me. Even though I was a note passer I wasn't queen bee, and certainly was too smart to get caught. In fact, I wrote it at home with my left hand as to disguise the handwriting. I involved all the girls in our class and many of the guys - given the plot of Mean Girls it's a wonder no one turned against me and turned me in. I dropped it by her desk on the way to lunch, and I remember coming back to the classroom to see that she had been crying. I mean, I wrote some terrible things - bad enough that I blocked them out and still know that I should feel bad. I think there was some chatter about it, but nothing ever came of it, and frankly, I had forgotten all about it until I read a friend's inscription in my yearbook reminding me of it. I would apologize to her today if I ever had the chance. It was so dumb. But it secured my spot in the cool crowd for a while, which, at 13, was all that mattered.

The other mean thing I did was in 11th grade, and this was worse because I was deliberately terrible to people I really cared about. I had a clique of 6-8 friends in 11th grade - we called ourselves the Monkees because of a Karaoke night. The first half of the year I loved them - by the second half, I thought one of them was a total bitch. Before she had been friends with my group, she and another one of our friends had been friends with a different crowd, who they had since ditched and done something really mean to. Well, of course, our new friends told us all about the mean something they did to this other girl (I can't for the life of me remember what it was) and I'm sure we gossipped about it endlessly. At the point in the year when we were fed up with them, my friend Shannon, who was a total bitch and probably still is, hatched a plan to snitch on our new friends to the Vice Principal. Shannon convinced me, which wasn't too difficult because I always liked Shannon, to go to the VP and tell him this awful thing that had happened like two years before. Our two friends got suspended, and that effectively ended our friendship junior year. I hated myself for the rest of the year and long after.

The funny thing is, we all got over it. They both kind of brushed it off by the end of senior year, and my guilt quickly ended any annoyance I felt at the bitchiness. We still had other friends in common, and hating each other was just more work than any of us felt like exerting senior year. We all read a poem together for our HS video yearbook. Stayed in touch through college and beyond. I've been to one of their weddings and all of their post-college apartments. Shannon lives in VT but I don't talk to her. Shortly after she decided to turn on our friends, she turned against me. And while I have seen her and hung out with her many times since HS, we never picked up our friendship where we left off. Too bad too. I always did like her. She was the ultimate Mean Girl.

Naming the GB (Gym Boyfriend)

Okay - we have a name. I went to the gym tonight and was overwhelmingly disappointed that NONE of my gym boyfriends were there. Kind of odd- it's Wednesday, not Sunday. But just when I was thinking that it was going to be a crappy workout for lack of eye candy, there he was - the most important boyfriend of all, next-door-neighbor-Kramer. That's when his name came to me - VIPB - standing for Very Important Boyfriend (well, not exactly now that I see it in print, but close enough). Nothing happened of course. I did notice that he was wearing normal sweatpants/workout pants, and I have to say, I like the old school ones better. (I am weird). I also noticed that he is DEFINITELY older - aside from the gray he has serious smile lines - but I like it like that.

I was hoping he'd be sitting on his stoop waiting for me when I came back from the gym, but no such luck. Til next time...

Checked Out

It's so appropriate that I just changed the channel from Sex and the City to Laguna Beach.
It all started when Friends turned to Joey.
Even The Apprentice is filming the next season in LA.
How many more signs do I need?
How about that my number one client now plans to quit at the end of February - just when I had planned on packing my bags and saying my goodbyes. A month earlier would have been weird. This couldn't work out any better. Although the situation is still shitty and my morale is down. But what can you do?

Today was a crappy day. In the 40's and raining, all day. It's been like that the past two days. The perfect weather for me to sit and daydream about LA. Too bad it is only going to get colder before it gets warmer.

I need to call the landlord and see what the next steps are with the lease/apt. I've been putting it off though, because it is so early, and I'm so afraid that if I sign it and commit, something terrible will happen and prevent me from going. The top two fears were my mom getting sick and me getting fired. Getting fired definitely seemed like a possibility today when I heard the news, although it seems my boss is more afraid of me quitting than anything else. Interesting position to be in. If I got fired I would still go to LA, just sooner! And then I wouldn't want to start a lease on March 19th! I suppose I could do a sublet for a few months, but move twice? No thank you. In any case, it doesn't even seem to be an issue, but it just makes me hate my job that much more knowing the one beauty account is leaving and I'll be doing busy work (or worse, fashion work) my last few weeks and months there. I suppose I could be super proactive, and go out and search for new biz, but I don't want to make all those relationships when I know I am leaving anyway. Plus, I am not even supposed to know the news yet. She might not even tell me for a few weeks. Personally I'd be surprised if she kept it a secret that long.

What a LONG day. I skipped the gym and took a little nap. Now I am more awake, and just reflecting. I hate reflecting. I think that is why I drink at night. No need to reflect. Not drinking anything tonight though. Didn't drink last night either. Which probably explains why I felt like ass this morning and all day. I've been noticing that when I DON'T drink at night I usually feel like crap the next day; whereas when I have a glass of wine or two or three I wake up right at 7:30 AM feeling great. I know that is bad. I've noticed that for the past few weeks. Trying to cut back, but it is hard. I understand now that when I have talked to my mom about quitting smoking, she just says so honestly, "but they are my best friends - they are always there." I mean, I have actual best friends, she doesn't, but it is always there.

Kristin's party is this weekend. Excited for the party, not excited for the fact that literally almost every single person going is going with their boyfriend/girlfriend. Most of these people aren't even my friends, but hers - from law school or elsewhere. Maria can't go b/c she'll be in Boston, and my other friends have another party that night. I will probably go to that party as well, but only for a little bit. It will be fun, but then it will just be another Sunday again.

Wow - I am a ton of fun tonight. Maybe I should get a drink - not that I have anything. I think my personality went out the door with the empty bottles from the weekend. Maybe that's why you see the drunken bums searching through garbage - they aren't really looking for bottles but personalities. Oh - there it is!

Sundays

Sundays are the lonliest days in New York. Possibly elsewhere as well but I wouldn't know. Everyone is part of a pair. I'm not exaggerating. I don't think single people leave the house on Sundays in fear of seeming out of place. Wait - I don't know if there ARE single people in New York anymore.

I went to Stamford today to see Rebecca and go to the Target store so I could use my gift certificates for Holiday shopping. Then we went to the Stamford mall, but I only got Kris a b-day present there. Halfway through our shopping Rebecca's husband called. He was watching football at the apartment with a friend of his, and they wanted to order a pizza from the place across from the mall but didn't have the phone number or know the name. We weren't done shopping yet so we couldn't bring it to them, but we did end up going across the street to place the order. While Rebecca did that, I stared longingly at the empty bar and thought how nice it would be to sit and have a beer or two or ten. It was 3:50. The idea to stay was tempting, however, because at 4:30 just across the street, Santa Claus was going to be repelling down a 25-story office building. We could have sat right in the window and watched the whole thing. We also could have looked at the firefighters who were dressed up in red Santa hats and Holiday garb and standing right outside for the occasion. One of them had an 8 or 10 month old dalmation - classic.

We ended up going back to the mall. Just as well.

The Algonquin

I read an article on Yahoo! news that the Algonquin Hotel, in an effort to drive traffic and renew people's interest in the ancient writers' den, has offered a $10,000 martini. The $10,000 is to reflect the cost of the diamond at the bottom of the glass - something my former diamond client is probably fuming over that we never thought of. But I digress. The Algonquin is known for housing many popular writers, poets, and literary creatives back in the day, and the article included a poem by a writer Dorothy Parker - which all these years later describes me to a tee:
"I love a martini -- but two at the most. Three I'm under the table; Four, I'm under the host."
Well, aside from the fact that I don't really drink martinis, just everything else. Classic.

Frustration

I've just spent an hour trying to set this up with a picture, and can't seem to figure out what I am doing wrong. I consider myself rather computer savvy, yet maybe I give myself too much credit. Don't think so, but why else am I still sitting in this chair? I need a glass of wine.

That's better. My "glass" of wine is being consumed out of a disposable plastic cup - the kind you might see at a barbeque or at the beach. I have a whole cupboard of clean wine glasses - in fact, just a few months ago I purchased a set of 12 from Bed Bath and Beyond for like $10. But I do not have a dishwasher, and ever since I can remember, I've considered washing dishes to be probably the single most awful chore. Don't know why - I have no problem getting on my hands and knees and scrubbing the tub - but for some reason... In any case, a few months ago I decided to stop feeling guilty about letting dishes pile up in the sink for weeks at a time, went out, and bought plastic silverware, cups, bowls, and plates. And I have never looked back. I am so ghetto. I am 28 years old and consume my microwaveable mini-meals on plastic ware. And I love it. I have friends coming over on Friday which means I will have to use real glasses - which means those glasses will be sitting in my sink until after New Years, at which point I may just throw up my hands and throw them in the garbage. It's not like I'll be taking them to LA with me.

Friday we'll be celebrating Kristin's birthday - she is the first of our friends to turn 29. Her, me, Maria and Nancy will all go out to dinner, and the big party will be next week. That, actually, is how I got on here tonight. I went to check the evite, and all of a sudden two hours later I have a blog. I am 28 and 1/2 tomorrow - Happy Birthday to me!