showing off

I know people who buy apartments.  Combine them with others.  And then do a gut renovation.  That would be deserving of showing off.  I wish I could do that, but alas, I will have to settle for a bit of better in my New York City rental.

My little bathroom update feels major to me.

The tiles are what they are, including the unattractive stains left on the floor from the removal of the vanity that was there.  And the bathtub and toilet are unchanged.

But everything I could change I did. 

It all started with the always-damp vanity and sink.  Because bugs had twice gotten into the vanity, my building agreed to let me pick out a new sink and new hardware. 

I chose a new pedestal sink from Kohler.  It's so much cleaner looking. I also like its simple lines, and the separated hardware as opposed to the one piece I used to have.

The new VIPP shelves I added are one of my favorite things...minimalistic and functional.  These are so much better than the glass shelves from Pottery Barn I had originally considered.

Then there's my new towel rack. I can't believe it took me 21 years to change out the cheap, hollow aluminum one,

for a much nicer chrome one.

I got a VIPP 2-gallon basket, after using the same one at M's house.  This was not a simple decision.  I carried home the smaller one and this one from Gracious Homes in a snowstorm to make sure the larger one fit.  It does.

I added new hooks (from Ginger) for bathrobes and guests: a double hook for the wall near the door, and the same one — but as a single hook — on the door itself.

I added a chrome shower basket (also from Ginger)  so I could move all my shampoos, conditioners, and liquid soap from the corners of the tub they were junking up. I even switched out my old showerhead for a new Speakman.  I love when small things make a big difference.

My old medicine cabinet slid open, making much of the space inside unusable.

The new one is taller, has two doors that open out, and has mirrors inside.

And then finally, there's the complicated shower door. It took my super and handyman two weeks to figure out how to hang it, but they finally finished yesterday.  I love it.  And I now understand the term frameless shower door.  I am glad I went with the clear glass door vs. the frosted one I considered.  And I am also glad I resisted the building's suggestion to get a nice shower curtain instead.

The part I like best is the top.

Overall, my bathroom looks so much better.  I just need a new bathroom rug and I'll be done.

Now if I could only re-do my kitchen, add a view, get new floors, and add molding, then I'd really be done.

fashion faux pas

I go down to Bellmarc’s main office for another training session.  Again, I think about the dress for success model they’ve proposed.  But it’s only training.  No customers involved.  I should be fine in casual clothes.

I throw on my black leggings with a nice cashmere sweater.  The woman I’m meeting with, if I were to guess, pretty much hates me.  I think I’ve offered too many suggestions for improvements on the training videos.  I also don’t agree with the selection strategy of the exercise I’m supposed to do, but say nothing about that.

But she is very helpful.  She spends a couple of hours with me taking me through the listings and how to filter.  It’s a great session and something I definitely will need to know.

I get home and am on the phone with Meredith.  As she is telling me something, I notice that the seams on the back of the leggings I’m wearing feel thicker than I remember them feeling.  Hmmm.  And I don’t remember there being a big seam running from the middle of my stomach, straight down and around to the middle of the waist band in the back.

As Meredith is speaking, I burst out laughing.  My pants are on inside out.  I am so concerned with wearing the right clothes and I don’t even put them on right. Thank G-d I got my boots on the right feet.

same time next year

We all have them.  It may be with a doctor, a financial planner, or even an out-of town friend.  It’s that person we see once a year, but every year.  We notice their changes more than we do people we see regularly.  If they’ve gained or lost weight, we see it.  If their hair has changed color, grown longer, or even become more sparse, we take note.  We mark out own aging by how quickly it seems we last saw them.

And so it is with Joan.  When I moved to New York in 1985, I asked a friend if she could recommend an accountant. She told me about Joan, and that’s how we met.

Back then, Joan and I were both single. She is now married with two boys, and I have a son in college (and am still single).  Joan says to me today, “People tell me my husband looks just like Harvey Weinstein.”  I look at a picture on her desk and I see the resemblance.  Then she says, “I don’t know what Harvey looks like.  Is he good-looking?”  I suggest she google him, and then tell her truthfully that her husband is much better looking.

In the years I’ve known Joan, I have seen her gain weight and lose it.  Have long hair and short.  Curly and straight.  Light brown and blond.  She has seen the same of me (except for the hair color).  But today she looks the best I’ve ever seen her.

As for me?  Well, this weekend I am getting my hair cut.  Next week I’m getting it colored.  Today it is clean but a wavy mess.  I’m also about five pounds more than I’d like to be.  If I were to guess, Joan isn’t having the same thoughts of me as I am of her.

Before leaving, I ask Joan if she’ll do me a favor.  “When your assistant calls in late December to schedule my March appointment, please tell her to remind me to also get my hair colored and styled before coming in.” 

I think she’ll remember too.

a coveted seat

Why is it that when you can’t have something, it seems to become more valuable?

A week or so ago I read about a play that sounded interesting:

It’s a two-person drama involving a teacher who has recently suspended one of her 11- year old students, and the mother of that  student who shows up for a previously scheduled parent-teacher conference.  A few hours after being suspended, the child comes home and kills himself. The mother is seeking answers.

Despite the tickets being under $20, I can't find anyone who wants to go with me.  I have many theater-loving friends, but none are interested in this play.  I’m not even sure I am.

But the online reviews are good, and I decide I've been hibernating too much this winter.

On Monday, I go to the ticket office to buy a ticket for next Sunday.  “I’m sorry, we are all sold out on that date.”  I give the ticket agent another date and get the same response.  Then she says, “Oh, wait, we are sold out for the remainder of the run.”  Now I really want to go.  If this many people like it, surely it must be worth seeing.  The agent tells me to keep checking online, as sometimes the production company gives back seats they are holding. 

So several times a day I check.  Then this afternoon, I see an available ticket for tonight.  I buy it.

I get to the theater early, along with many others.  It's open-seating. I see a woman, mid-70’s I’d guess.  She is conservatively dressed.  She smiles at the young Hispanic usher and says, “I love your tattoo.”  He has a tiger slinking up his arm.  I am amazed by the sincerity of the compliment.  

The 85-minute play is riveting but also flawed. I think I'm glad I saw it, though now I'm afraid its disturbing topic will stay with me longer than I want.  I come home, wishing Alexander were here so I could give him a hug.

a better way to teach

For the past week I’ve been slogging through hours and hours of online videos.

I am told (after the fact) that these YouTube videos are rough cuts. “We’d hate for you to wait until late March when they'll be finished.”  I agree.  But man oh man, these videos redefine the meaning of the words rough cut.  They are:

    Redundant

    In random order (one session ends in the middle of a speaker talking and the next session begins in the middle of the same speaker talking, albeit on a different day and on a different topic).

    As long as two hours and as short as one minute (literally).

These videos could pose a serious threat to Ambien.

But I am now finally done with them, and the associated questions I had to answer for each.  I am ready for my first of ten on-site classes.

I debate what to wear. I remember that silhouetted woman in the business suit in the handout I was given last week. She represents what I should wear.  I compromise and instead of showing up in my winter legging-outfit I opt for a skirt.  But my roots are showing and my red nail polish is chipped.  I wonder.  Could I be fired before starting for not looking the part?

The class begins at 11.  By 11:15 it’s just me and the instructor sitting in a big conference room.  In the few minutes I get to spend alone with Lisa (the instructor, who also runs the Chelsea office), I know I’m going to like her, and not just because she is casually dressed.

The class, How to Price An Apartment, is everything the videos are not.  I think I would enjoy it even if I weren’t starting a career in Real Estate.

I am supposed to stay for an afternoon class given by the same person who is in all the videos.  I don’t.   Instead, I introduce myself to him when I hear his voice near the conference room.  I feel like I know him well.  I’ve spent so many hours with him, though he of course has no idea who I am — not too unlike the feeling I get when I see someone I don’t know well and they tell me they read this blog.  I just hope I'm more entertaining than he is.

and the oscar goes to...

When M was little, she used to imagine herself standing on the podium at the Olympics.  I had a different dream.

Mine was to win an Academy Award. 

I have always been enthralled with the film industry.  My dad was in the recycling business, long before it was fashionable.  At least once a week he would bring home comic books and magazines.  My sisters and I liked Richie Rich and Archie.  But my favorites were Photoplay and Modern Screen. 

I fantasized about one day gracing their pages, along with Debbie, Elizabeth, and Marilyn.

I performed throughout my childhood, some would say more off stage than on.  But while in college, I realized I wasn’t very good, and never pursued a career in acting after graduation.  The closest I came was working in television, and now voting for the BAFTA film awards.  I take my role seriously, and see all the award-worthy movies. And for as long as I can remember, I have never missed watching The Academy Awards.  Tonight they are on.

Some years I’ve hosted parties.  But many of my friends work and don’t like being out so late on a school night. Plus, there is something to be said for putting on an old pair of sweats, and sitting makeup-less in front of the TV, watching all the glam.

Ellen DeGeneres is hosting.  Her easy-going humor adds much to an otherwise drawn out affair.  I have trouble staying awake.  Too many awards that no one cares about.  Highlights from the Scientific and Technical Awards?  Can there really be highlights?

90 minutes in and only one major award given.

I think of the play Meredith and I see today, Outside Mullingar, starring Debra Messing and Brian O’Byrne.  A reviewer for AM New York sums it up perfectly:

While the play is meandering and uneventful, it opens up

considerably in the heartwarming final scene where Anthony

and Rosemary finally connect in spite of their hesitations and quirks. 

It serves as a hearty payoff after an hour of straight boredom.

Not too different from tonight’s Oscars.

At three and a half hours, the show is too long.  Why can’t the producers learn from the Grammy’s and The Golden Globes?  Cut the awards that only industry insiders care about, and focus on the stuff the rest of the world wants to see.  But I doubt that will happen. Even the sound- mixing people and the short film, live action creators want to be on tonight’s stage.

And so I will watch them.   Next year, and the year after that, and all the years that follow.