Morning People are Evil

Let me preface this post by saying that I am NOT a morning person. My family and friends all know not to speak to me in the morning, whatever it is can wait until at least 10am. I need at least 2 hours after I wake up to be able to formulate a complete and coherent sentence; just because I am out of bed and walking around does not mean that I am awake. Therefore, you can imagine my surprise when the following incident occurred.

7 AM. All is quite in my house. I was all comfortable and relaxed sleeping in my bed, dreaming of airplanes and luggage, when the telephone rang, waking me up. Now, normally I wouldn't get out of bed to answer it; I would let it go to voicemail, but for some reason I got up, and answered the phone. It was my mother, asking if I wanted to go with her to visit some family today. I asked her if she realized the time, that it was 7AM, and why was she calling so early. She said that she's been awake for hours and wanted to get an early start. I told her I would call her back in a few hours and then we could discuss plans for the day. This is the main reason why I don't have a phone in my bedroom; crazy incoherent conversations with my mother. I went back to sleep.

Less than an hour later I feel a tap on my shoulder. I open my eyes to look at the clock (7:38 AM) and see my mother standing at the side of my bed all dressed and raring to go. I ask her what she is doing here (damn emergency keys!), and that I remember telling her I would call her later to decide if I wanted to go with her. She tells me that she was in the neighborhood and thought she would come pick me up. Translation for all you that do not speak MamaSloane: You ARE coming with me, get your ass out of bed and get ready!

Usually I pride myself on being a mellow, laid back adult, but today, still half asleep, I threw a temper tantrum that would make my best friend's 2 year old proud. I won't get into the gory details, but it wasn't pretty. To add insult to injury, my mother said quite calmly after my tirade "If you didn't want to go, all you had to do was tell me. I could have been there by now." Then she left in a huff; like I told her to come pick me up, and then told her I didn't want to go.

The thing is, if she would have called me at a decent hour and waited until I was awake and able to kickstart my brain into functioning, I would have gone with her. So now I have to wait until she gets home, call her and apologize for being a nasty hag this morning. I mean, I gotta to keep my name in the will :p .

WTF!?! the sequel

Perhaps Blogger does not like Sad Sack Sloane, which is why this page looks wonky today. I'm trying to fix it, but have had no luck so far. If anyone knows why this happened, let me know.

Geez, even my computer doesn't like me.


Update #1: I had to re-load the template, so of course I lost all of the comments. AGAIN.

Update #2: If this doesn't work now, I will go back to a more sedate template. Blogger is trying to hold me down!!

WARNING- Maudlin Post Below!

My cousin's son, who is 14, graduated from the 8th grade today. I remember when he was born, and felt really old at that point. His class sang the "Graduation Song" by Vitamin C. It was cute, to see the graduates all excited to be off to high school with so much promise and expectations for their futures.

I'll give you all a minute to read the words here .

Yes, I know the song is corny, but listening to the words of the song, I started thinking about all that I have done in my life and if I am where I thought I would be. Everyone has a scary age; mine is 33. I made a list when I was a freshman in high school about the things that I wanted to accomplish before I turned 33. Looking back when I was 14, 33 seemed really far off. Now being 29, turning 30, 33 is just a blink away. I went looking for this list to see if I was really on the right tract with the decisions that I have made in my life. After finding it in an old shoe box at the top of my closet, (the ladies know what I am talking about), I read it and what struck me was that subconsciously I have been checking things off this list without realizing it.

Most of the things on my list I have accomplished, like graduating from college and getting an advanced degree, buying a car, and moving out. Some of the items are still doable in the next few years; travel to Portugal and Greece, buy some real estate (house or apartment), and learn to knit. It is weird to see that my 14 year old self was pretty accurate on how my life would turn out. The only things on that list that may not be accomplished before 33 are getting married and having children, although I can't say that those things are something that I want to still do, based on my history.

Boy, between this post and the last one, I sound like a sad sack. Never fear, snarky Sloane will be back as soon as NYC gets rid of this effing rain.

Back on the Grind

This is one of my better rants...

I have officially begun my employment search. I am quite disheartened to know that despite my stellar resume and experience, most of the agencies I have my eye on cannot afford me. This has been a dilemma of mine since I made the decision to formally resign while on medical leave. Most of the reputable social service agencies in NYC are somehow subsidized by the city, state, and federal governments which in turn leads these agencies to be frugal when offering a salary due to budget cuts and fiscal mismanagement by the government. It becomes a vicious cycle, and the people that suffer are those in need of assistive aid.

In college, I chose sociology to major in, thinking that I would like to continue on in some sort of law career. After graduation I went to work at a drug rehab, dealing clients from the NYS Drug Treatment Courts, figuring that I could be in a legal environment testing it out, to help me decide if law school was my next step. It wasn't. I began working closely with the Vocational Counselor there (most of the DTC clients were also mandated to a training program or work release as well). I saw that there was more opportunity to be creative with her job, so in lieu of law school I went back for my Master's in Education. I've mentioned before that I love the work that I do, and wouldn't change it at all. Except for the salary.

My asking salary is by no means astronomical, but only about 5 thousand more than what I left. For a social service position however it is quite high. The only positions that are available to me in that salary range have been administrative or directorships. All these positions have minimal contact with clients, and that is one thing that I do not want to give up yet. I feel like I am still young, I have the rest of my career to become a program director or vice president. I still need action at work, to be able to think on my feet quickly because my client is trying to get one over on me, not sit in front of a computer balancing budgeting spreadsheets and deciding who can take a vacation when.

So it seems that I am at an impasse. Do I take a paycut and take a job I really love or take the salary that I want and then hate the job I have to do? Sometimes being an adult really sucks.

I'm Old...

I just spent the day watching re-runs of MTV Unplugged with R.E.M., the Cure, and Poison.

You say: But Sloane, why is that a bad thing?
I say: It's not so bad, except that the shows were played on Vh1 CLASSIC!!!

Vh1 Classic, people. The music of my youth is now is now being played on a classic station!


Book me a bed at the nursing home, I will be there soon.

An Open Letter to One of My Best Friends

Dear Alcohol,

First & foremost, let me tell you that I'm a huge fan of yours. As my friend, you always seem to be there when needed. The perfect post-work cocktail, a beer at the game, and you're even around in the holidays, hidden inside chocolates as you warm us when we're stuck in the midst of endless family gatherings. However, lately I've been wondering about your intentions. While I want to believe that you have my best interests at heart, I feel that your influence has led to some unwise consequences:

1. Phone calls: While I agree with you that communication is important, I question the suggestion that any conversation of substance or necessity takes place after 2 a.m. Why would you make me call those ex-boyfriends/girlfriends when I know for a fact they do not want to hear from me during the day, let alone all hours of the night?
2. Eating: Now, you know I love a good meal, but why do you suggest that I eat a taco with chili sauce, along with a big Italian meatball and some stale chips (washed down with WINE & topped off with a Kit Kat after a few cheese curls & chili cheese fries)? I'm an eclectic eater, but I think you went too far this time.
3. Clumsiness: Unless you're subtly trying to tell me that I need to do more yoga to improve my balance, I see NO need to hammer the issue home by causing me to fall down. It's completely unnecessary, and the black & blue marks that appear on my body mysteriously the next day are beyond me. Similarly, it should never take me more than 45 seconds to get the front door key into the lock.
4. Furthermore: The hangovers have GOT to stop. This is getting ridiculous. I know a little penance for our previous evening's debauchery may be in order, but the 3pm hangover immobility is completely unacceptable. My entire day is shot. I ask that, if the proper precautions are taken (water, vitamin B, bread products, aspirin) prior to going to sleep/passing out face down on the kitchen floor with a bag of popcorn, the hangover should be minimal & in no way interfere with my daily activities.

Alcohol, I have enjoyed our friendship for some years now & would like to ensure that we remain on good terms. You've been the invoker of great stories, the provocation for much laughter, and the needed companion when I just don't know what to do with the extra money in my pockets. In order to continue this friendship, I ask that you carefully review my grievances above & address them immediately. I will look for an answer no later than Thursday 3pm (pre-happy hour) on your possible solutions & hopefully we can continue this fruitful partnership.

Thank you,

Your biggest fan Sloane

P.S. These are things that are difficult to say when drunk:

1. Innovative
2. Preliminary
3. Proliferation
4. Cinnamon

Things that are very difficult to say when drunk:

1. Specificity
2. Hippopotamus
3. Passive-aggressive disorder

Things that are downright impossible to say when drunk:

1. Thanks, but I don't want to have sex.
2. Nope, no more beer for me.
3. Sorry, but you're not really my type.
4. Good evening, officer. Isn't it lovely out tonight?
5. Oh, I couldn't. No one wants to hear me sing.

**********************************************

I was sent this as an email from a friend. I wonder if this person thinks I have a drinking problem? I guess the only time we ever hang out with is at a bar, so putting two and two together makes me an alcoholic?

Also for the record, like most of you, I have participated in and/or have carnal knowledge of the consequences of drinking before dialing, eating, walking and trying to complete simple activities the next day. I will also say that the five things listed above are not only impossible to say when drunk, but sometimes I also have problems saying them when sober.

Blasts From the Past

I know that I have mentioned in the past that my friends and family have an unhealthy fixation with setting me up on blind dates, and since wedding season has been upon us for a few weeks already I am happy to say that no matchmaking has occurred as of yet. Although, now that I wrote that, my cell phone will be ringing off the hook. I am like a bear, I hibernate in the winter, so when the sun comes out I am ready to rejoin society. For this post I thought that I would elaborate on some of the past horrors that I have been subjected to.

1. The guy who wouldn't leave Long Island, NY. - While I am a big fan of comfort zones and staying in them, there is something to be said for a 32 year old baby who will not venture into the big city to meet someone for a drink. Not wanting to rock the boat, I met him near his house. The only good thing about it was that I had a getaway car at my disposal. His brother dropped him off at the restaurant, He stiffed our waiter out of a tip, and he asked me for a ride home. I found out later that he doesn't drive. He never learned. He told me that his mother or brother drove him everywhere, so there was no need for him to learn. If I need to specify why I never saw him again, you obviously have not been paying attention.

2. The guy who swore he wasn't a guido. (he was) -When you wear a track suit with a wife beater, you look like an extra from the Sopranos. When you wear that on a date, don't expect to see me again. When someone specifically asks you if you are a guido, don't deny it. You know you are. Ask the gel in your hair, it will tell you the truth. By the way, if you are a guy and use self tanner in the winter, you have bigger issues than I want to deal with.

3. The guy who kept getting arrested. - I don't do criminals, I work with them. This guy had been arrested six times for charges ranging from inciting a riot to assault. Thanks but no thanks, I like my body sans bruises.

4. The guy who was engaged, but wanted to keep his options open. - If you thought enough of someone to ask them to marry you, then your options are over. As someone who has been cheated on badly, it really is not a nice feeling once it is found out. I don't judge, and I know that that type of situation works for some people, it doesn't work for me.

5. The guy who was a degenerate gambler.- This guy wanted to take me to the racetrack when we met which was fine, I like going to see the horeseraces. What was not fine with me was when he asked if he could borrow 500 dollars. Do I look like the First Municiple Bank of Sloane? I work in social service, I'm no millionaire. Needless to say, that ended quickly.

I know that there are things about me that would come out if this blog was written by a guy that I have dated, so ever the equal opportunist, in an upcoming post I will list some things about me that may have potential dates running for the hills.


DISCLAIMER: This post in no way, shape, or form should be construed as a cry for matchmaking. I can fuck up my own life very well on my own, I don't need help.

New Look

I thought that I would brighten up the place for the summer. Black is mysterious, but it's too hot in NYC to wear black at this time of year.

Happy Padre's Day

Just a note to wish my dad a Happy Father's Day.

He is coming over later to replace the sink in my bathroom, so I need to whip up something special for him to eat. If I ask him what he wants he'll tell me spaghetti with garlic and oil. He's an old school Italian guy, of course that is what he would want for a special meal.

I think he had the perfect day so far... watching some World Cup matches (Brazil vs. Australia), going to Home Depot, and installing a sink. He'll eat some pasta, drink an espresso, and take a nap on my recliner. Not bad for a simple man. That's one of the reasons why I love him. He is uncomplicated, and he has no expectations for me other than to be happy with my life. Which he is, I hope. Now if I can only find a guy like that...

Not Quite Norman Bates

Since the summer has hit NYC with a vengeance, there are some things that are a rite of passage that any female needs to go through. Along with the obligatory mani/pedi comes the dreaded hair removal decisions. Due to my dark hair, my decision is one of epic proportions.

For me, I tend to become extremely lax in the winter with shaving my legs. Even moreso when there is no-one in the picture that I would like to get "a little bit friendly" with. However, in the summer, this cannot happen because it is too hot to wear anything other than bare legs.

This leads me to my dilemma. Methods I have tried include:

1. Waxing: I usually get waxed before I go on vacation. It lasts longer than shaving, however the only problem with waxing is that you have to wait until the hair gets to a certain length before you can do it again. The spa that I go to charges $50 per leg.

2. Hair Removal Creams: Messy and smelly. They leave the skin soft, and the hair takes a long time to grow back. This is my second favorite way.

3. Shaving: The quickest and cheapest way to go. My hair grows back fairly quickly, and it is dark so I have to shave quite often. My issue with shaving is that no matter that I have been shaving my legs since I am 13, I always manage to cut myself. IN THE SAME SPOT!!! It is on my left leg, behind the ankle. I swear, the cut doesn't have a chance to heal before I slice it opened again. The last time this happened there was so much blood in the shower, I thought I was in the scene from Psycho. (The Anthony Perkins version not Vince Vaughn version, although Vince is cuter.)

With all of these options to choose from, I usually stick with shaving. I am too impatient to wait the time between waxings, and the hair removal creams are too much to fuss with. So I will continue complaining about cutting myself in the same spot and mangling my legs.

The Million Dollar Brain

I have a problem. My brain contains a treasure trove of useless information. I can't blame anyone but myself for this. Since I learned to read, I will read any and everything within my reach, and my brain for some strange reason decided to retain this information at the most inappropriate times. This trait helped me think quickly on my feet while I went through both my undergraduate and graduate educations and work related situations, but since my brain has been on hiatus for the past few months, I feel that I have to stay on top of my game.

This is the reason why I was on the internet until 4:30am trying to find out all the information I could about Michaelmas. Don't ask. I was reading a book about the different religions in the Middle Ages and came upon that reference and didn't know what it was. When I get fixated on a topic, I have this perverse need to find all of the information available and learn it.

Now that I have proven my geekiness, I will say that the book that I was reading was a research book for my novel. So I have an excuse. Someday I'll tell you the story of Eloy de Jong and what he has to do with my million dollar brain.

Fade into...Shoes?

As I have mentioned in past entries, I am extremely particular of my sleeping arrangements, which became the impetus to write this post.

For the past few days I have been dreaming about shoes. Now while I will admit that my closet needs a fashion makeover, my shoe situation is all above board. My theory is that shoes and bags are the two items in a woman's closet that will love her even if she has gained a pound or two or twenty. These dreams, while deceptively simple in their appearance, have led me to research the meanings behind these dreams (since I have a lot of spare time inbetween job interviews). I've recapped my findings at the end of this post, so those of you that are not interested in the minutiae of my dreams, just scroll down.

Monday's dream had me in a shoe store trying on horrendous moccasins that I would NEVER wear. They remind me of the old woman that lives next door to me, she is an old hippie who smells like patchouli all the time. The shoes I was trying on were all brown and the same exact style, which I don't understand then the point of needing to try them on. The shoes in question:



Tuesday's dream had me and some random people including some guy I had a crush on when I was in college, Morrissey, and Amy Poehler from Saturday Night Live looking through a cavernous closet looking for a pair of shoes to wear with the ballgown that I was wearing. The gown was blue and red and NOT cute. I looked like Little Bo Peep. The only shoes that were found during the seek and rescue mission were a pair of black Converse All-Stars that I wore while in college that I wrote and painted all over. These shoes are still in my closet, and I bust them out every now and again. They are like comfort food for my feet.

Wednesday's dream had me in my old apartment building collecting the shoes from my apartment, and going from door to door collecting shoes from everyone in the building and throwing them in an incinerator at some garbage dump. I don't remember what types of shoes they were, but I remember that I was barefoot.

Thursday's dream had me tying the shoelaces on a pair of new basketball sneakers as part of an even stranger dream that I won't get into here. For this one I need to see a therapist. :)

In conclusion: I need to up my meds. No, not really, but what I found was that I am a textbook case considering what I am going through right now healthwise and employment wise. I have never had dreams so similar in subject this close together. So without further ado, here is what I learned about my dreams:

I took all of the following information from here.

1. In general, shoes represent your approach to life. It suggests that you are well-grounded or that you are down to earth. It also represents your convictions about your beliefs. If you are changing your shoes, then it refers to your changing roles. You are taking a new approach to life. If you forget your shoes, then it suggests that you are leaving restraints behind you. You are refusing to conform to some idea or attitude.
   
2. To see old and worn shoes in your dream signifies that through diligence and hard work, you will find success. It may also mean that you have come to grips with accepting who you are.
   
3. To see new shoes in your dream, suggests that you are overconfident in your success. Alternatively you may be on a life path that is unfamiliar to you.
   
4. To dream that you are wearing inappropriate shoes for the activity at hand denotes that your progress and path in life will be laborious and ill-prepared. It may also indicate that you are heading in the wrong direction and need to reevaluate your goals.
   
5. To dream that you are not wearing any shoes signifies that you have a lack of confidence in yourself and low self-assurance. You may be dealing with issues concerning your self-identity. Thus if you dream that you lose your shoes, then it suggests that you may be searching for your identity and finding/exploring who you are.

It is funny looking in my closet knowing that my shoes are trying to impart some kind of wisdom on me. I also just realized that this post has been the most revealing thus far... posting about sleep habits and dreams with virtual strangers.

*Can anyone guess what song I based the title on? It's one of my favorites.

WTF?!?

I don't know what the fuck is wrong with Blogger now, but it is not posting any of my June entries, it has erased all my comments* and changed the layout. I am no computer genius, so once I figure out what happened, I will fix it back.



*Not that I had that many to begin with, but still.

Can't Knock the Hustle *

I gotta quit slacking with this blog. This is part of my gift to myself and I am still procrastinating. Bad, bad, bad.

Previously on Sloane's Day Off...

1. I OFFICIALLY resigned from my job, after "thinking it over" for a month. I just need to get there to pick up my stuff and to have the director kiss my fat ass. Yeah I said it; what? Was it wrong of me to make that place suffer for a month while I laughed and pointed at them? They offered me the month, I was minding my own B.I. business on medical leave. So now I am really unemployed instead of ill. I will start sending out resumes shortly; I mean I do need to buy my own birthday gift.

2. I've recently purchased a new bed, and I have finally broken it in. Get your mind out of the gutter you perverts. I am extremely particular of my sleeping situation, and any changes in said situation makes Sloane very unhappy. My sister bought me a set of sheets where the fitted sheet does not fully cover the mattress due to the awesomeness of the pillow-top. But they are red, and I love them, however I had to fuss with them every night before I organized myself to sleep.

3. I got my Atelier Mourlot lithograph cleaned, and ready to re-hang. This lithograph was done in 1967 by Brigitte Coudrain, and if you look closely, you will see that it is the skyline of lower Manhattan near Wall Street. Since the World Trade Center was in the process of being built at this time, Coudrain could not add it into her design because she did not know what the finished product would look like. Unfortunately, the skyline of lower Manhattan resembles this once more, and sometimes I have difficulty looking at it after what happened and knowing that I will never see 2 friends again.*

4. I started writing a novel. I am still in the beginning research and outline stages. It will be fiction, with a strong female protagonist. Hopefully, I will be able to take a page from some of the great female writers, and be able to collect all my thoughts into something that people would enjoy reading.

So that is what I have been doing since May 21st. I will be visiting this site more often now, since I really do have the days off.



*For those keeping track, this is the second Jay-Z song used as a title and it was used in memory of JQ, who would be 30 today, and PC, who used to play this song non-stop.