Showing posts with label anxiety. Show all posts
Showing posts with label anxiety. Show all posts

28 April 2009

Saturday into Sunday, NY and NJ

(Cross-posted to LiveJournal)

On Saturday, Rodney and I left John to his grating (how he refers to grading), and took the train into New York City for the purpose of photographing urban over-development in what is technically historic Harlem. It was a little difficult to capture the right angles to make his point, and, in some cases, just impossible--but we wouldn't have known if he hadn't tried.

I think my favourite of the ones I snapped off on my iPhone was this one, which we entitled "Our Lady of the Condos":



More about finger buildings.

More about Saturday & Sunday:

There were only two subway rides over the course of Saturday, and mostly we just walked everywhere (woe to my flip-flopped feet), because the weather was gorgeous and Rodney is very familiar with the area. We went to a vegetarian dim sum restaurant for lunch, and then walked to the shopping strip, because--

In addition to my inappropriate footwear, the strap on Rodney's bag fell apart halfway through the day. Thus, we were looking for comfier shoes and a new bag. Of course, nothing we saw gave us any compulsion to buy. Sad feet. Sad bag.

When we returned to Rahway, all three of us went over to Little India for dinner and window-shopping. Dinner was delicious. Shopping was awkward, but then we didn't stick to simple window-shopping; we actually went inside three places. You could tell it made the clerks confused and anxious--which, in turn, made me feel anxious and guilty. It's a shame, really, because the fabric selections and the artistry involved in creating these clothes--it's amazing. Yet I feel undeserving and somewhat voyeuristic, a dull interloper.

As I told Kat, I was having poor luck with shop-keepers, in general. Later, we were at the mall (where I continued to feel awkward and wrong), and I laughed too loudly in the Game Stop at something or other that Rodney had said. I'm pretty sure the clerk wished me miles away.

~*~


Sunday was a quieter affair. We all went to New Brunswick so that John and Rodney could get some school work done. Rodney went to the computer lab, while John and I hung out in Au Bon Pain, taking advantage of their wireless access and air conditioning.

For dinner there were stromboli from Stuff Yer Face, followed by bubble tea at I's Cafe. I'd never had bubble tea before, and I can say that I really enjoyed the kind I tried (coconut milk tea) and can't wait to try others.

Turn the page ...

22 January 2009

shoulda, woulda, coulda

(Cross-posted to LiveJournal)

When I got home I was very close to just staying upstairs, eating the pear that I'd forgotten at lunch, and lounging around watching more Politically Incorrect on YouTube while waiting for The Daily Show and The Colbert Report to come on.

But I wanted to do the nutritious thing and make a salad wrap for dinner ...

As I removed the container of spinach from the refrigerator, I heard a strange noise from above--and looked up just in time for the bottle of Frangelico to clock me on the side of the head, bounce off, and shatter on the floor. YAY.

And then the alarm in the blue room went off--signaling the possible presence of explosive gases in the apartment. SWELL. Really. Just AWESOME.

Then my parents were on the phone--me trying to clean up the spill and shards of glass with one hand--and they're nagging me about the roof situation.

Hi. I haven't eaten anything. The "explosive gas" alarm is going off. I have the deck door open to the 10 degree chill beyond in order to get the Frangelico fumes out of my home. I'm trying to clean my kitchen floor before it goes tacky with residue AND not step on broken glass. Nagging me is not a good idea right now.

I was ready to crush my mobile with my grip alone. I might do one day.

THEN when I finally had my food and was sitting in the red room, I managed to tip over my water and spill it on the floor.

I'm doing so well.

Lesson learned. If the first instinct is to stay upstairs, I should just stay the hell upstairs.

Turn the page ...