By MBPDLPayday Loans

Archive for October, 2008

Oct 20

Bad for the Karma, Good for the Soul.

If you’re in a good mood, free of frustration and bad-juju… I suggest you navigate away form this blog immediately. Go here. Or here. Go anywhere else.

 

I just failed a midterm, and I do not use that term in an over dramatic, Mallory-is-being-a-total-fatalist sense. I mean that term in the I’m-lucky-if-I-even-got-a-50 sense. Yes, people, seriously.

The list of reasons why I’d end up with such a bad day is relatively succint. I’ve put it together as such:

  1. I do not listen in class. He doesn’t speak English very well, so I thought it was a fair compromise. I don’t do (many) obnoxious things; I certainly don’t sleep. I sit there, quietly for the most part, and do other homework. This is great, as it serves a 3 hour chunk of time for me to be productive with. This is bad because I DO NOT LEARN THINGS. Things that end up on the midterm.
  2. I know aboslutely shit about international anything. I can talk about Marketing and Demographics until the cows come home. I know a bit here and there about business models and adaptive reasoning because cultural understanding is the key to financial success (thank you, PUMA). But when you ask me about mixed markets? The only answer you’re going to get is the sad chirping of the crickets. Or, on a good day, perhaps a musical number from Singin’ in the Rain. Which leads me to…
  3. I am not a business major. I’m not even a business minor. I don’t know why I thought it would be a good idea to take this class as an “easy A”. Never take a 300 level class in which you have no background as an “easy” anything your LAST SEMESTER. Take it your first semester, so you have three and a half years to nurse your GPA back to health. Goodbye, 3.9. Hello, median-bell-curve performance.

I’m getting ready to start my application for FIT (today, this afternoon) and study for my GREs (also today, this afternoon) and though I know that in the bigger picture this midterm is almost wholly inconsequential (let’s face it, it will take more than one test for me to tank the class, and more than one class to kill my GPA), I cannot help but feel that if I can’t rally myself to get enthusiastic about this class now… I am a lost cause for obtaining my masters’ in the area.

So I had a conversation with myself to the tune of:

Me: What’s your problem? You just tanked.

Self: Thanks. I know.

Me: And you want to get your masters in this? Are you on drugs?

Self: No!!!! And if I was, I wouldn’t share with you. You’re being a bitch.

Me: Suck it up. Seriously. You think FIT is going to let you in if you keep eating it like this in the class that’s supposed to be a feel-out of this curriculum? You’re mental. And you’re stupid. You had better come up with a backup plan, or get  your shit together.

Self: OH YEAH??? Well… Fuuuuuck. You’re right.

Me: You love this kind of curriculum.

Self: Yes, I do.

Me: You’re good with the abstract reasoning side.
Self: Yes, I am.

Me: You’re even interested in the factual stuff you don’t know yet. What’s the problem?

Self: … Can we get a cup of coffee?

Me: ARE YOU SERIOUS?

Self: You know it really pisses me off when I’m not as smart as everyone else.

Me: Do you even hear the words coming out of your mouth right now?

Self: It’s VALID! I’m a smart person! There’s no reason!

Me: So learn your shit.

Self: … Maybe you have a point.

Me: I always have a point. And then no one can say anything to you about anything.

Self: … Ok.

Me: Ok.

*pause*

Self: So… … can we get coffee now?

Me: Why do I even tolerate you?

You have those conversations with yourself, too. Don’t pretend you don’t. I’m not buying your shit. The bottom line is that I haven’t taken a test in over two years, and I flopped. Hardcope floppage. I need to take my text book, curl up and take this seriously.

 

Because, I don’t have much room for failure in the future, and I especially have to be impressive in this class becuase it’s going to be the only one in my transcripts that will mark whether or not I’m a qualified candidate to study this at FIT.

 

Which, today, even I am questioning.

 

But here’s what I know. I know that I love this industry and I love this business. It’s fascinating. And enthralling. And I forget sometimes that I need reminding of those things. Also, I’m a high-maintenance girl who needs to perform in order to be able to command a salary that will accommodate my absurd lifestyle. And where the love of my work and the want to excel professionally sometimes lacks in serving as sufficient motivation to balance my time wisely and proportionately prioritize everything I need to focus on so that nothing falls through the cracks… Considering a life without unlimited shoe-buying potential bridges those gaps and gets me back on track.

 

Judge me if you want to, but I’m leaving this blog post with a renewed conviction to kick ass and take names in this class, this industry and this godforsaken quest for education.

Whatever gets you out of bed and dressed some days, right? Some days, you have to show up and perform. Most days, though, simply being out of bed and dressed will get you credit. The good news is that tomorrow is one of the latter. The bad news is that today was one of the former, and though my outfit was cute, my performance lacked.

 

It happens. It won’t happen like this again, as my perspective is effectively restored.

 

Which reminds me… I have to get the rest of my Halloween costume today. Ok… one more.

 

I’m a big fat liar.

 

xo

-MM

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Oct 14

Brooklyn Heights and Letting Go and Starting Again.

I think I said goodbye to my first New York love tonight. Brooklyn Heights– the neighborhood in which I fell in love with the guy who turned into my first serious heartbreak, the place I babysat, drank too much tequila, laughed too hard and found big parts of my soul I’d be a smaller person without– it has a different charm for me now.

I went back to snap photos of Chris and to come to terms with all the angsty closure sentiments I’m grappling with this week. Maxine is going to Spain. Christine is going to Arizona. I’m looking at FIT. I want to globe-trot. Christine keeps talking about family. Maxine has Kostas. We’re all so different, and so similar, and I’m not sure how I ever spent time worrying about whether or not I’d ever recover enough from the disasters of my college dating career to really find a soul-mate (indulge me, I have a flair for the dramatic like every other girl). I really am the luckiest girl alive, and I’ll tell you why– I was worried about missing one soul mate before I realized that I’m already equipped with two. Dating? Well that’s just bonus. If you’re into that sort of thing. (Step 2 in this whole Carpe Diem revolution of mine should probably mention something about releasing the dry cynicism that I tend to wield like a weapon against romance.)

So the next couple months will be great, and saying goodbye will be hard, but it’s not like they’re leaving the planet. And I think there’s something to be said for acknowledging that I’m glad I’m not the girl I was, once upon a time. She was nice, albeit a bit naive, and she’s turned into someone I don’t mind admitting to being on a daily basis. I survived the significant emotional damage and I’m now once again fully intact and tonight was the last deep breath before the release of the What-Ifs I’d been toting around with me for what now feels like forever. What If it had worked, in any of the various What If incarnations? Put simply, it didn’t. And now, pressing on… (Yes. It really is that simple.)

I wrote a lot for the Press today. I realized again today what an amazing team Lisa and Carla and Lynn and Guerdley are; a team of women to really be admired, if not for their talent than for their passion. Laura and DJ, too. And it feels great to put words to paper, if only I could do that where my homework is all concerned. Focusing on that more and again tomorrow.

So… new blog. New start. New chapter of life. And! Great new moccasins. Now if I could just nail down what my schedule is doing for the rest of the week, I might be able to restore some sanity to my life. And possibly some sleep.

… Then again, sometimes there’s something to be said for the not-knowing, too, right? Maybe I’ll hold off a little bit, and just enjoy the newfound room to breathe. :) The sleep, though. Now that will always remain a point of interest.

xo

-mm

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Oct 14

Food vs. Fashion

Alright, not for nothing, the thing I love the most about working in the Meat Packing District is that every day is shopping day. I window shop– obsessively– because, what can I say? I’m a girl who likes to look. And in my neighborhood, the exceptionally chic tends to stroll through my door on a daily basis. I don’t even have to actively seek anymore– the fashion comes to me!

But this weekend, The Food and Wine Festival has taken over my lovely, quiet little neighborhood and all of the sudden, it’s like the suburbs have realized that this is their ticket into one of the best-hidden neighborhoods in all of Manhattan. And they’re out. In their khakis. And their Crocs.

Now, for the record, Christine has gotten me to ebb a bit– a VERY SMALL bit– on the whole CROCS ARE SATAN campaign I normally run. She and her spontaneously combusting knee (it’s full of lava, I warn you… LAVA!) wear Croc flip flops because they’re comfortable, give her good support and do not make me instantly want to claw my eyes out at their less-visually-abrasive appearance. That said… I still loathe Crocs. And Khakis.

And they’re all here, in my chic little corner of the city, with their frizzy perms and deep-set Suburban Mommy tans and oh my word, the jewelry… Over-polished, over-done, not-tasteful, excessive and GOLD. Everywhere is GOLD. And Wonderbras. Is that what happens when you let a man whisk you away to the suburbs to raise his children? You eventually wander back into the Meat Packing District half a decade later, fake tanned, with your girls perked up and your wrists laden with bracelet after bracelet he’s given you to prove the thing with his secretary meant nothing, and that you’re the one true love of his life?

Oop– my cynicism is showing. This is what happens when you let your heathen children run wild on the normally quiet sidewalks, screaming and getting underfoot before I am properly caffeinated for the day. The urge to swat with the October issue of W is almost more than I can resist.

What happened to me? I was a nanny, once upon a time. I don’t HATE children, I just don’t like them before the espresso has seeped its way into my veins, effectively transforming me into something reselblant of a human being. I am a bit of a neighborhood snob, though. All the tourists (and yes, if you’re from New Jersey and have your children, a stroller, five bags one dog, and enough snack food to satiate a small army, you qualify as a tourist, even if it only took you 30 minutes to get here) mean lots of looking and very little buying for my tiny, not-child-proof store. Hopefully the good weather will keep everyone out in the sunshine, the kids will all be tired within the next couple hours, and only the very laid back European clients I love so dearly will bother to wander as far down the block as my store happens to sit.

Perhaps my cranky mood also has to do with the fact that my room still is not clean, my homework is still not done, Sunday is the day at work that’s supposed to be easy, as all the locals are in bed with hangovers until at least 3pm and the staff usually includes Matthew, so I don’t have to be the one acting in charge. With which, of course, there were a couple issues yesterday, and last week, but I’m going to try to resolve them before I write about them in here. And I’ll leave out names. Because I’m too lazy to bother to change them.

Ok. Deep breath. My BlackBerry– God love it– just reminded me that I should be at work. Now. So, wrapping up and pressing on… Today, I think I’ve just decided, shall be a good day.

xoxo

-mm

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