A Simpleton's Book Review

I just read this:


I was not into it at all. It's a NYT bestseller and I'm sure it gets all this attention because it dares to talk about an African country where people get slaughtered because human rights don't exist.
But it was done in some sort of English lollipop way. Very much like the book I Don't Know How She Does It. I'm starting to notice that English authors who write about "modern, hip" English women all have very much the same voice and style. And I don't like it at all. It's all about weird English sass, they always have designer clothes, large estates in the suburbs outside of London.  Clearly, I don't relate. But not only that, I just don't think it's good writing. It's all very shallow feeling.
Also, the main characters are a busy, wealthy, white mom and a teenage, illegal immigrant, Nigerian girl who is in mortal danger. It's written by a white English male. Who is probably just like one of his main characters except without the vagina and it just doesn't compute. I'm not saying that you can't write characters who are not like you- but I think that's a skill that not everyone has.

There. I'm done.

Bits and Pieces

Tick Tock. Tick Tock.

I'm am almost a student again. I'm feeling a little sick to my stomach. Luckily I haven't been losing sleep about it but that's probably because I'm spending 9 hours a day watching two crazy girls. I'm not physically doing much, I'll admit that, but when the heat and humidity are super crazy and you're sitting out in it all day you feel really drained by the end of the day.

I have Monday off, thank the heavens, so I will do the dreaded commute* to my school's bookstore and check out what I need. I hope that it's all there and then I will scour the Internet to get the best rental options. I ain't buying shit! I hope.

*For the past 4 years I've managed to maintain employment in my neighborhood. That means that riding the subway is very rare, spending a fortune on Metrocards hasn't really happened, and I don't have to give myself lots of extra time. But now I will have to travel a little over an hour on the crowded, rush-hour subway on a daily basis. I may go insane.

When thinking of August and news and thoughts I should share I figured bullet-point form would be best:

-Panic over electric bills (a recent common theme) because it's been so hot the AC is pretty much always on.

-Aly Raisman from the US Women's Gymnastics team is stunning and I have a people crush on her because people freaked out when she made it to the All-Around Finals instead of some other chick. Sure, she placed 4th. But she still goes home with 2 gold medals (Team & Floor Exercise). Go Aly!

-I'm relieved that the wacky Japanese guy from this season's Project Runway bowed out of the competition. He drove me craycray.

-Luckily I've been able to avoid the dad/photographer I sort of know who asked me to pose nude for him. In my inability to say no in awkward situations I gave him a 'maybe, I'll think about it' and then ran away. The daycare his daughter goes to is up the street from me and it's closed down for August so he hasn't been in my side of the neighborhood. So hopefully that will help me to avoid him.

-I was asked to babysit three girls overnight (ages 7,4,2) and was totally freaked out and then at the last minute the overnight was cancelled. Instead I watched them through the afternoon and put them to bed. All was great, I haven't seen them as a their babysitter in some time so it was nice and fun. But when I put them to bed they got all weepy for mom and dad and it was sort of heartbreaking. At the same time I was glad it wasn't an overnight because when kids cry at bedtime I always use the line "It will be okay, when you wake up mommy and daddy will be here!" And it had been an overnight clearly that wouldn't have been true. Phew!

-Two friends moved closer to me in the past month and I'm really excited. Even though we're all busy and I'm always worried I'll be that pesky hanger-on person I'm stoked that if we decide we DO want to hang out, it's just that much easier. We've already enjoyed dinners and a drink night and no one had to call a cab or take a sketchy train ride home. So hooray!

Andrew Jackson Haunts Me

So the day had come where I had to finally make good on the promise to take the girls to the pool. We were all packed up and were walking to the 1 train to take up to Van Cortlandt pool and we turned the corner where a Bank of America stands. We had our eyes on the ground because the sun was so bright when, at the exact same time, Big Girl and I gasp. Splayed there, on the ground, is not only a 20 dollar bill but a stack of bills. I bend down crazy fast and snatch them up. The girls are squealing with joy. To a 7 yr. old and a 4.5 yr old finding a quarter is a big deal, imagine a 20 dollar bill.
I stand there in a total state of dumb shock. Clearly, for this stack to still be on the ground it must have just been dropped. Like seconds earlier. So I stand there waiting for someone to dart back around the corner all panicked and freaking out blubbering about dropped money. But no one comes. I tell the girls to lower their voices and I count the money.

It's 160 dollars.
Holy Shit.

In a way my heart drops and accelerates all at the same time. I'm stoked that we just found all this money but I know there is just no way I can keep it. I just can't keep this amount of money.
For so many reasons:
I envisioned some old lady possibly coming back to ask around and no one having it.
I envisioned having to explain to the mom that I found all this money and just kept it even though Big Girl sorta found it first. (I would've thrown them a twenty for their piggy banks but it would be weird).
It just felt...strange.

So I say "We can't keep this. It's just too much." and I go into Bank of America and even though my brain is screaming I go up to the window and say "We just found this.  Can I give it to you just in case someone comes back to ask about it?" And they look at me like I'm insane. BECAUSE I AM. (Later my mom tells me I should've asked if there was any policy where I could come back and claim it but when you have two little hyped-up kids you just want to split)

And I run out of there because I just don't want to be dealing with it anymore. Big Girl can't stop fantasizing what we could do with that money and she's making me feel so full of terrible regret. All I can see is my Con Ed bill paid for. By the time we get to the end of the block I'm so bummed.

I'll be honest- if the girls weren't there I probably would've kept it. I would feel a little weird but I'm pretty sure I'd skip to my favorite drug store right down the street and spend some immediately to make it mine, all mine. But all I could think about was being a 'good role model' (it sounds gag worthy but I swear it's true). I wanted them to think about someone else's hardship.
I thought about their dad who is a total douche and that he's teaching them to be completely insensitive to other's struggles. I've been with the family when he's been rude to, talked back to, made fun of homeless people in front of them and it drives me crazy. I've heard Big Girl repeat stuff about poor people. She once was talking about a friend who wears the same shoes everyday (7yr old gasp) and I was so mad that I informed her that some people in the world don't even have shoes. "What do they wear then?" NOTHING I replied. Her mind was momentarily blown.
Anyway, since she has a dad who is teaching her some pretty sketchy morals I just couldn't keep that money in front of her. I have to (if only for a moment) be a better person.
But I was bummed all day.

Later that afternoon when I was depositing them off at home and dad was splayed on the couch listening to Metallica so loud he couldn't even hear his daughter (god forbid he lower it) she excitedly told him about the money we found and turned in.
He looks at me and goes "Well, you're a better person than me." I may have said it with a smirk and had the tone of light humor to protect myself but I turned to him and said:

"Oh, I know."

Later, I was talking to my mom, explaining how I only turned it in because the girls were there. She told me to stop feeling so bad, it's not like that money would've have drastically changed my life (true) but I'm no angel. Instead of sucking it up and moving on I loudly declared "These kids are ruining my life!"

Need the Blue Ice

So HOT. Please make it go away. We used the air conditioner for 2, maybe 2 and a half days in June when the first heat wave (panic across the city) hit and I opened our Con Edison bill and I freaked out. It was $93. Now...sure there are people who pay hundreds and hundreds each month. I work for one dude who, on average, pays like $500 a month on electric and gas. But they don't turn a single thing off. EVER.
Mark and I sit in the dark for as long as possible. Only when the birds start to assume that day is done and they start to nestle down even though they so want to remain at their food bowls do we go "Time to turn on a lamp!" and they lift their wings in jubilation. "Yay! More sunflower seed for me!"
And  yes, the rates are rising so even if we don't run things our bill will still creep up but that doesn't mean I'm not going to panic. We would probably sweat it out for longer and only use the air at bed time if we didn't have these pets who are completely miserable. Which is ironic because technically they are tropical birds but since they've never lived a day in the tropics we do our best to keep them comfortable.

So we've established that summer is here. Which means I'm miserable. Not only do I hate humidity and heat, my body just can't handle it. I've passed out and vomited and have had intravenous liquids all thanks to my handful of heat stroke episodes during my youth. Which is also funny for the same way the thing about my birds is funny: Genetically, I'm of Puerto Rican descent, though we know I'm pretty gringa, or as I more gently put it Sorta Rican. But basically, if the world was not modern and homogenized I'd be living on a Caribbean island drinking fruit juices and sweating like a pig and should be able to deal with it just fine. But alas, I've never even been to the Caribbean. So dear god, get me to an air conditioner.

But, of course, in my quest for perfecting being in a bad mood I have other reasons to hate summer. One of them being that my loving, gentle, intelligent husband happily stumbled into a teaching job 3 years ago and is enjoying yet another summer off while I traipse around Manhattan and the Bronx with two spoiled kids who are apparently just too precious to be put in day camp. So every morning I get up and have to mutter to myself in the shower "It's not his fault, don't be mad at him, it's not his fault, don't be mad at him, it's not his fault, don't be mad at him." And then get out of the shower and try and smile at him as he says good morning. But I can barely see his smile because he literally walks around with a cloud of joy and ecstasy around his face.
I mean, points for him. He's still getting up and making my coffee for me. Probably because he knows I'm one step away from having a nervous breakdown. But still...ask me in August if that whole routine is still playing out.

And yes, considering I will be losing a lot of work hours when I return to being a full-time student in the Fall (AHHHH!) I should be jumping for joy to have a full babysitting gig this summer that pays me. You know. With actual money. But I get so overwhelmed by taking care of these EXTREMELY needy kids for a whole, very long, very hot (I mentioned it's hot, right?) very tiring day. Also, I think that I get used to having so much free time during the school year to do all my errands during the day when other people are at work that I miss it. I miss going to the supermarket and it's only grandmas and delivery men. I miss going to the post office and being the second person in line instead of the 54th. I miss having energy at 1pm and doing my workout instead of coming home and being too tired to exercise. I miss watching TMZ without Mark being home and being mad that I'm watching TMZ.
And finally, I'm terrified that I'm going to be extremely burned out by the end of the summer that I will bomb in my classes because I will be physically exhausted. I'm really, really scared about that. If I don't do well, if I don't get into the nursing phase of the classes then this whole drama has been for nothing and my brain can't even wrap around that. It's too terrible.

Sigh. Well, Mark is taking a nap (I'm trying not to be annoyed because it is a Sunday, but I know this is like his 5th nap this week). I just finished the household bills. And I'm counting down the days until I can sit back, relax, and watch the new Breaking Bad season. Crystal meth...hmm...maybe that will help me get through my classes....

After They Were Mean to Me

So I cried and studied and cried and studied and watched an assload of videos on Khan Academy's website. I went to take my math assessment test and told myself 'It's untimed. Just deep breathes and figure out what to do.' So I go in there and breeze through a few. It's the kind of test that gets more difficult as you answer correctly. I'm definitely feeling like the studying was helpful and then suddenly BAM. I hit a type of question that I had absolutely no idea how to solve. I try and try and it's multiple choice but none of the solutions I come up with are remotely like the options. I guess a few and get tossed back to an easy question, which to me meant the computer was making sure it had progressed me forward appropriately. But then I was back to the hard questions. I was trying my best. Not feeling pressured during this untimed test.

Then the proctor goes "Just so you know the lab closes at 5pm. So you need to be finished by then or your test won't be complete. You have time but you know..." and she just fades out. It's 4:30. Now I'm freaking out. The program is designed where I can't see how many questions I have left. If I knew the total then I would figure out how much time I have to mess with each question. But suddenly this untimed test is very much timed and there's no f'ing way I'm not going to finish and then maybe have to come back and relive the whole nightmare. So basically I just start clicking answers and then suddenly the test was done. I was totally annoyed because I really only had like eight questions left and could have totally taken more time but in the end I would have still been guessing.

At the test they give you a card and it tells you when to go to the advising office to register. My date was June 4. But then across the bottom it says 'Transfer students will receive separate card'. Of course. Still waiting for this mysterious card. So I figure I will wait for the card and if I don't get it then I will at least show up on June 4th. So suddenly it's May 23rd. I get my mail in the p.m. So here I am 5:30 on May 23rd and I get my card in the mail and my appointment is for May 23rd. 9:30am. MOTHER F.
I was steaming. So I called the next day and asked about it and the guy said "oh, you can come in anytime" and I got all snarky and said "The last time I was told that, I came in and everyone was rude to me." He bumbled and stuttered and basically I thought I'll just go in on my next day available.

So I did and was seen. It was pretty easy breezy which was so needed. It turns out that I missed being placed in a second level math test by only three points!! Which I was actually amazingly thrilled about. Let's process this: the last math class I took was a non-regents, very basic, math class my senior year of high school. So in 13 years I may have not progressed but I have ended up exactly where I should be and not even more behind. And only by three points. I was totally happy.

So now I'm registered for 14 credits, will be in class for an epic amount of hours taking all the sort of classes any standard freshman has to take and I will lose a lot of work hours but I'm sort of thrilled. Just a bit.

I was glad that it all worked out because I had had the worst week ever before that. My dad was ill, I had a huge, annoying, frustrating dilemma with the family I work for that resulted in my having to give up a job, and then my sweet, yummy, beautiful old dog had to be put to sleep and it was THE WORST DAY EVER. It was pretty horrible and I'm 70% certain that I will never have a dog again just so I don't have to experience that pain again. And I'm not even my mom who saw him as the third baby she never had. Horrible. I'll just stop there.

So now I just have to figure out how to be a student again, rent books, syllabus collecting, actually have homework that doesn't require me to create a story out of my ass. Meanwhile still being a wife who doesn't want to live in squalid conditions and commute to school for an hour each way everyday. I hope I survive.

Apparently This Will Be an Epic Battle for My Future

There's not much happening on this end. I've been to the CUNY in Brooklyn a few times now to try and make things happen. A former softball teammate who works there talked to Admissions and got me in because even though I understood that I can't transfer straight into the Nursing program and therefore applied online as undeclared I was still rejected. Because they're idiots.
What I'd like to explain to them is that I don't expect to get any advantage from already having a Bachelors. If my particular degree was useful to me in any way then I wouldn't be applying to go back to school. I simply apply as a transfer and alert them to my degree because I was told by a CUNY admissions counselor (at what now appears to be a friendlier school) that if I don't disclose the fact that I've already been to school then I'm being dishonest on my application and that would be an immediate denial. But I can't explain this to anyone because no one wants to talk to me.


I had called the advising office on Wednesday to set up an appointment to meet with an advisor and was told by the person on the phone that I can just come on in. Which is also what it had said on their website.
So I do that. I spend an hour on the subway and walk in with all the paperwork I think I might possibly need and I politely tell the woman at the counter that I would like to talk to an advisor so I can register for classes. She's helpful enough when she asks my info to look me up and she says that my transcripts have not been transferred to them yet by the central CUNY office. I'm confused by this because I applied way back in February and since I've already given a tuition deposit and have a bunch of letters telling me I'm in I think they should have all the stuff they need. So I dare to ask a question and that was the beginning of the nightmare. Apparently no one ever dares to ask them a question. How dare I make her work!
"How long will it take to get the transcripts because I've already paid my tuition deposit and I applied back in February and I'd like to get into a class before they are all full"

"I don't know how long it will take. You're stuck in phase 3. Which means we can't help you until we have your transcripts. You have to wait until we mail you a card saying you can come in."
 At this I internally freak out because you never hear from them. I never even heard from the school that I wasn't originally accepted, I had to find out from my friend who helped me after reading about my anxiety on Facebook!

"Ok. Who can I call to ask how much longer this is going to take, to check the status?"
She pulls out a post-it and begins to write the name and number of a person I've already called and emailed and who I'm certain will never EVER respond to me.
"I've already contacted that person."
"Well honey, we can't help you until CUNY sends your information"
"So then can I call CUNY? Because I just spent an hour on the train to get something done here and I've already paid what I'm supposed to pay and I just want to get into a class"
She rolls her eyes, lets out a big sigh and calls someone, who I later figure out is the same exact person she was writing down on the post-it note.
"Yeah, I've got a student here who wants to know if she can call CUNY to complain because she don't wanna wait no more"

All I can think is:
1. I am waiting. I have been waiting.
2. Why do I need permission to call CUNY? I'm not asking you to do it. I'll do it myself.

So she hangs up obviously angry at me and gives me a number to CUNY and the whole office, filled with waiting students, is staring at me. I'm about to go home and call CUNY when I realize I have a cellphone! I call them. Wait 13 minutes on hold and speak to another person who is also friendly (they really should make some of these people work in Brooklyn) and she tells me they (Bklyn) have no idea what they are talking about. All the info should be there. I ask for her name and direct line thinking that some miracle will occur and I will be helped by someone at an actual desk and I can have them contact her if need be.

So I go back. I tell her that I called CUNY and they said all my info should be available. Keep in mind I'm being really polite verbally even though my brain is in full freak out bitch mode. She cuts me off and says
"This isn't my problem. Hold on a sec. Go sit over there." She picks up the phone, calls same person back "Can you come talk to this girl please. I'm sorry to bother you but she called CUNY and now she's saying they sent everything."
So I'm thinking someone will come out and say 'How can I help you?' or 'What's your name?' Kind of like the nice way they did at Bronx Community College (apparently another, friendlier, CUNY). Instead this mean, angry, scary woman comes out- barely looks at me. Asks to see my transcripts, snaps at me that I don't have any math. What are you trying to get into? And announces that I need to take an assessment test. Which is fine with me. Now we're getting somewhere. It should be noted that over us the entire time the first woman is apologizing for interrupting her. For bothering her. And all I can think it. What the fuck? How are you bothering her? This is her fucking job, to advise! So I dare to ask a question (GASP)
Do I contact the testing office or do they contact me.
'They'll send you a letter in the mail.' and I think here we go again, sitting around waiting for a letter that will never come.
'So I can't call them?'
'No, they'll send you a letter telling you to come in for a test.' And she practically throws my transcripts at me and storms away as the little one yells out a few more times 'Sorry for bothering you!'
So I walk out and say out loud 'Sorry for wanting to get a degree.' Though not loud enough, not that they would hear me. They don't even care I exist.

So now I'm back in the hall and I look at my paperwork and see that it says if you need to make an appointment with the testing office to call. So I call.
'Can I make an appointment with you or do I have to wait until you contact me?'
'Why would I contact you? I don't know you exist. The advising office should have given you a routing slip and you bring it to me and I set you up for a test. They just did it yesterday.'
So I instantly burst into tears. 'Okay, I understand you are really busy but I've been in the advising office all morning and they really don't like me and I don't know why. Is there any way you can contact them for me because I really can't go in there again. I just can't.'
I must've sounded so desperate because she has me come up to her office, she calls them for a fax of the slip which takes a loooooong time because it's obviously for me and they clearly hate me. She sets me up for the test on the 18th.
I head back home totally dejected. I'll have to return to the advising office eventually. I'm sure I'll have to go in asking if I can see someone because I'm certain after I take the test I will never hear from them. And I'm just really, really sad that this is what I just signed up for.

Why are these terrible people so angry? I know that it's incessantly busy but think about it: the people who are 'harrassing' you just want an education. All they want is a degree so that they can have fantasies of not working at McDonald's or The Gap. And this is a CUNY. You're not dealing with trust fund babies or heiresses. These are inner city kids with public school education or immigrants trying to be the first to go to college in their families. Why do you have to be so cold and rude and mean? You have the opportunity to be the gateway to their future and you're blowing it. Big time.

Quality Community Member

A few weeks ago I was checking the mail for a very important letter that never showed up but instead found a pet catalog dedicated entirely to bird items. The sticker on the cover alerted me that they hadn't heard from me in some time and they were curious to know if I still wanted to receive the catalog. Since I had never received the catalog before I turned it over to discover that it was addressed to the woman who lived in the apartment before us.

I was actually pretty excited to imagine the happy coincidence that is two different couples living in an apartment back to back and both being bird owners. I was stoked to get her junk mail because bird owners are sadly neglected. I can think of 3 pet stores in our neighborhood and all of them are bursting at the seams with collars, harnesses, dog clothes, cat chew toys, and kibble. But only one of them has bird seed for sale and there is only one option and often they are out of the size I need.
And if you go to a large chain pet store the bird section is actually just as pathetic. Surrounding the cages filled with depressed looking exotic birds are a few bags of food- none appealing. The last time I was in PetSmart the only bag of parrot food that would have worked for us had a giant spider web growing inside of it.

So here I am, with this new catalog. I open it and it rocked my world. Toys and exercise stands and even food at a very normal price. So I wrote down my wish list and ordered 60 dollars worth of bird items and got free shipping which is a win/win because what's the point of paying the same price if then you have to pay for it to show up.

I guess the most pathetic part of this bird nerd fest is the level of anticipation that I had for the box to arrive. I couldn't wait to torture Vinnie and Claudia with their new hanging toys with bells and chew treats and perches flavored like pineapple. I realized in some not-exactly-the-same-thing-but-as-close-as-I'm-gonna-get way that this is what a new parent must feel like on baby's first Christmas. The baby has no idea what it's getting. Is too young to have really requested anything but you can't wait to see their faces when the toys appear.
And just like that tiny let down and yet not-so-surprised feeling when baby only cares about the box I find myself staring at the new items in the bird cages with a giant smile while Vinnie just screams and screams in terror.

*******

It's time for another great example of the quality of the citizens of Inwood: I was returning from a visit to the gym (so rare it's amazing I still know where it is) when I noticed a guy dressed slovenly in the usual gangsta' attire and he was avidly grabbing his junk and shaking it around while loudly talking into his cell phone.
"No! No, I said! My dick don't burn! That's what I've been telling you! My dick don't burn so I don't have it. I don't know. I just know my dick don't burn so I'm not worried."

Oh the scenarios that went through my mind after the cringing was done. Does she think she gave him something? Does she think he gave her something? What does he think? Nothing, he clearly doesn't give a shit. And more importantly what are the odds that she's going to sleep with this guy again? I'm going to go with 'most definitely' because, as if the loud and very public phone conversation didn't convince you, if you saw this guy you would know that he didn't appear to be quality sexual partner material and yet he'd clearly 'hit that'.

But since we'll never know keep your eyes out single girls of Inwood! There may be a local fella who might be available and apparently he is free of that pesky dick burn.