holy slit

i mentioned here last month that i wore a skirt to work one day - one that i'd used my company discount to purchase - and unintentionally exposed the lower portion of my buttocks to the world. the slit in the back wasn't happy with its allotted length and decided to unravel its thread about six more inches to REALLY make a statement. 

there were various contingency plans that day: walking with my lunch bag placed strategically over the newly-extended slit; tying my jacket around my waist whilst passing the look off as a new fashion trend; an emergency Duane Reade run for a pair of tights. in the end, i opted for a trip to the Gap (with my jacket tied around my waist, of course) and bought a new dress (slit-free) and chucked the skirt in a drawer in my desk.

i contemplated returning it and demanding a full refund due to the emotional duress i experienced thanks to the shoddy skirt. but the thing is, it's a really cute skirt. it's the skirt version of sailor pants, with all cute buttons in the front, and a neat lace-up detail on the back yoke. it's not just some basic skirt you'd find at H&M. so, i decided to take it to my lady at the dry cleaners for repair. i asked her to please use heavy duty thread, staples, super glue, whatever means necessary to make sure the slit controlled itself, didn't go expanding on me again. 

she nodded like she understood what i meant, and i picked up the fixed skirt with full confidence over the weekend. and i put on the skirt with full confidence this morning. it was a big day, of sorts. i had an interview at 10 o'clock for the job i currently have. (i know - huh? it's protocol for freelancers moving over to permanent positions, blah blah blah.) so of course i wanted to dress the company way. i put on the lovely skirt, with a cute blouse and new pumps and was feeling rather excellent. 

about 10 minutes after i returned from my interview, a co-worker who saw me on my way to the elevators called me back to where she was standing. she knew the skirt saga and was chagrined to tell me, "go to the bathroom. check your slit." i reached my hand around to the back of my skirt and felt with horror that it was extending way higher than god meant it to. 

ah yes.

of course, i'm still not ready to get rid of it. it's still a damn cute skirt! impractical but cute... and always coming unraveled. 

huh. that description sounds a lot like me. holy slit. 

mb 

back from the brink

it has been a strange two weeks. 

i was stuck in a crazy state of not feeling like myself and it was driving me nuts. lots of changes - and lots and lots of hours - at work, plus zero socializing with my friends, plus too much wine at weddings, plus not enough sleep and not enough down time equaled a very out-of-whack Megs. 

i didn't fully realize how wound up i was until i sat down in the garden at Barolo on Saturday afternoon with Dolch and Kate. we'd just come from Lauren's bridal shower (which was lovely and at which i ate my weight in crepes and chocolate) and since we hadn't been able to catch up in ages, and since we were actually in the same place at the same time, we decided to capitalize. 

i sank my rear end into the chair, sat back, and took a deep breath. my shoulders came down about four inches. we ordered a bottle of Sangiovese (well, Kate and i did...Dolch was in a Bloody Mary kind of mood) and i proceeded to blab and vent about my life until it was all outta me. i needed it. 

as we sat and drank and chatted - and petals from the blossoms on the trees in the garden floated down around us like pink snow - i felt my perspective snap back into place. i know that sounds weird, but it's true. i started to feel like my old self again - wasn't worried about work, wasn't worried about where i needed to go next or what time it was. i was just...there.

the moral of this story is: first, i need to see my friends more regularly, because i can say absolutely anything to them and they love me anyway; second, i need to remember to breathe, because things are only going to get more hectic at work and i can't be going off the deep end on a regular basis. 

oh, and third: pretty pink petals floating down from the sky may be beautiful and conjure up scenes from a Nora Ephron movie, but they're a damn pain in the ass when they land in your wine glass every three minutes. 

mb

i know, i know

i haven't posted in a week and believe me, i have guilt over it. but here's the thing - as of today, i am essentially a one-woman copy department again (like my last job) and let's just say the workload is a wee bit more intense. i am flying by the seat of my pants, and it's sorta fun, but it leaves little time for blogging.

i should really just break down and get an internet connection in my apartment, but who has time to look into that?

the other thing is that i went to a wedding last night - yep, Sunday night - and i believe i drank the reception hall out of their Cabernet. i believe i feel some sloshing around in my brain. so, today especially, it's all i can do to string together coherent sentences in front of my coworkers, let alone write a witty blog. 

brilliant move, i know. i'll never do it again. though i'm pretty sure that's what i said the last time...

mb 

the one and only

this is a belated happy birthday post for my mom. we celebrated on Saturday in high style - out to breakfast, then off for facials, then on to a fancy dinner at one of her favorite restaurants. and my dad and i surprised her with tickets to see the Mets play at Shea one last time this summer. she said she had a great birthday.

but yesterday is when she really got me. we were up at the crack of dawn to drive to New York for the MS Walk. with good reason, my mom isn't a big fan of crowds, or stairs, or escalators, or uneven pavement. however, she braved all and more for the walk, which was an important family event. she was in good spirits the entire time, and she amazed me with her energy. 

it crossed my mind several times over the weekend how lucky i am to have the mom that i do. she is like no one else i know and the older i get, the more i'm realizing how much i've learned and gained from her through the years. i know it will only continue.

here's to a great year, Mama! love you.

mb

truly a legend

i discovered this morning while flipping through the Daily News that an old professor of mine, Bob Greene, passed away yesterday. i hadn't seen or talked to the guy in years but i sat there staring at his obit, feeling sort of stunned. 

Professor Greene's Investigative Journalism class at Hofstra was hardcore. it was renowned, respected — and absolutely feared by anyone on the brink of taking it. see, Professor Greene had won two Pulitzers for Newday. he'd been a trailblazing, nitty-gritty, balls-out investigative reporter - covering the mob, corrupt politicians, drug rings, you name it. he had stories you wouldn't believe, and a personality you couldn't forget. (for the full scoop on what a character he was, please read this story - it's fantastic.) 

i took his class my sophomore year, which was unfortunate. that was the beginning of the two-year period that i might as well have spent abroad - that's how uninvolved i was with most of my classes. but his course - Journalism 13 - was a requisite and i had to take it. he asked a lot of us - driving forever out to Eastern Long Island to spend a day at the county court, looking up liens and tax information and sitting through endless arraignments. we were encouraged to go through people's garbage, looking for clues. every semester, he'd have someone "attack" him mid-class, yell something, and then run out of the room - then he'd see how much we remembered, how much we actually saw. he wanted us in the trenches, our sleeves rolled up, our reporting instincts getting sharper by the minute. 

because my head was where it was at the time - aka, up my rear end - i did the minimum required. i saw the class as a hassle, not an invaluable experience to learn from a legend. i was sure i would become a features writer, so who needed all the investigative skills? shameful, i know. especially because i was thinking on the train this morning how much i'd love to have an excuse to go through someone's garbage now. if i had to spend a day looking through records at the county court, i'd probably get really into it. such is life, i guess. 

that's not to say i didn't learn a lot from Professor Greene. despite my dismal performance in his classroom, he and i had a nice kind of friendship while i was in school, and even for a few years after. The Society of Professional Journalists brought us together. he was involved with the group, and i was an officer, and we spent a lot of time working on it — planning and organizing events, running meetings, and so on. the journalism department back then was still blossoming, still in its newbie days, and he was laser-focused on getting the program accredited. i jumped right in and did what i could and some of my best college memories are the times i hung out with Professor Greene, Ellen (another professor-turned-friend), and a few other members of SPJ. 

one of the best, craziest times was when we spent a weekend in the city for the SPJ Awards. not only did we all go karaoke-ing and dancing the first night, Professor Greene later took us on a mob tour. he called it "The Rub-out Tour." we boarded a bus and he narrated as made our way through Little Italy and other mob hot spots. he pointed out hide-outs, scenes of infamous crimes, landmarks that only someone like him would know. 

another enduring memory is when he came to the reception my parents threw for me right after i graduated. i was completely touched that he came, and then completely tickled when he made a beeline for my Gram Claire and really turned on the charm. maybe i'm embellishing a little - it was almost nine years ago, after all - but i believe they talked and flirted the entire party. 

we lost touch when he left Hofstra a couple years after i graduated. i tried to keep tabs on him through Ellen and the others i know still there. but this morning's news still came as a shock. like Ellen said in an e-mail this morning, he always seemed larger than life, it was easy to believe he'd always be that way. 

mb

please tell me dreams really do come true...

it seems all i do anymore is work and ride the subway and sleep. so at least my sleep last night was extra-nice. i had a lovely little dream about George Clooney. i have no idea why. in the dream, he was showing me a documentary he made about Darfur, i believe (i know - leave it to me to waste a George Clooney dream on concerns about human rights - psh!) but there was definite flirting involved. we had a connection. and i woke up from the dream feeling so... calm, peaceful, happy. strange, but true. 

even stranger - but still true - my horoscope this morning in the Daily News said: "Pay attention to a prophetic dream; it could provide a glimpse of a romantic interlude that promises to cross your path." 

seriously? that's about the best thing i've heard all week. a romantic interlude with George Clooney? sign me up. i'll take it. even if i have to hear more about Darfur.

mb

a much-needed break!

still no time to write, but i go to go to my first Yankee game since the 2006 season yesterday, and it was a blast. it was also cold as hell, but the result was well worth enduring the frigid weather. as was the company. Scotty was slightly more interested in hot dogs and cotton candy than what was happening on the field, but it was great to finally experience a ball game with my favorite kid. 

mb

i. am. so. busy.

work, my friends, is I-N-S-A-N-E. i have no time to get my work done during the day, let alone do anything else, like update my blog. i arrive home at night in a zombie-like state. it's only going to get worse. but i wanted you to know that i'm alive and well and i've been working on one post for three days - it's a funny one, about how the the other day the slit in my skirt ripped all the way up to my bum-bum and all the hilarity that ensued. alas, i haven't had time to perfect it, so it will have to wait. 

don't forget about me, OK? don't get bored and go finding a new blog.  i'm still the only blog for you. you know it's true. 

mb