Learning to Fake It

The new job is going very well and I'm pretty excited about my future with this firm. I am doing high-end, global concierge work, and since I am more of a mid-level gal, it means that I have to learn how to fake it.

The first week of training consisted of how to read menus of French restaurants, memorizing the details of the best restaurants in Manhattan, and an intro to the ins and outs of schmoozing with rich, successful, and important people. Before long, I'll be able to discuss wines and vacation villas and easily offer the five best alternatives when you aren't smooth enough to grab a table at Nobu or Buddakan. Luckily, I do have an up when it comes to club recommendations in Vegas [thanks Rachy!]. Also, before long I'll be buds with the Maitre D's at fancy places so I can impress my friends when I invite them along.

I am pretty excited because I think that familiarizing myself with some real world and marketable things will help me out in my freelance writing endeavours. And hell, if you're going to sell your stuff for money, it helps to sell it to the publications with wealthy subscribers.

And now, for my favorite-NY-restaurant-even-though-I-will-never-buy-a-$500-meal: 21 Club. Sure, I can most likely afford the 3-course option, but the 7 course in the basement sounds like a date!

These Icicle Tears...

It's official. I took down the Christmas tree, hid all of the dinosaur ornaments, and managed to wiggle the roommate's puppy out of his Christmas-sausage costume. The holidays are over and I am probably a little too sad about it. I do have some presents coming in the mail still, so I suppose that's a small something to look forward to. I think more than anything, I will miss the exciting lighting options afforded by Christmas decorations.



December was eventful. I was given a teaser job in accounting at my temp agency. They took that away and I only needed two weeks to shake the feeling of being dumped. It ended up being not so terrible because they managed to find me a real job at a real company where I can show up for as long as I like, complete with benefits and paid vacation and several other grown-up essentials. Starting Monday, I will work down the street from the Fed, so I am sure that I will skip out of work early sometime and take the basement tour where they show you the duffel bags full of quarters. When the weather gets warm, I can sit by the water during my lunch and watch the boats float by.

My family cancelled Christmas, so I was able to choose my own adventure for the week. I picked the warm weather, amazing Tex-Mex, and much needed couple-time options all provided down in Texas. Sigh. Four super days of Austin just made Boston seem that much colder and depressing. Oh yeah, winter in New England really sucks.

So now I'm sitting in a living room no longer littered with glitter and stockings. It's the coldest day of winter and the sun went down sometime after 4pm. I'm in 13 layers of warm clothing and my fingers are still a little numb. I think the poem from Amanda's mom sums it up best:

WINTER
a poem by Abigail Elizabeth McIntyre


Fuck!

It's cold!