Last Train to Snarksville

I'm feeling kind of snarky today. I would have been snarky yesterday but my computer at home was on the blink, which led to even more snarkiness.

It all started on Saturday with the monsoon that hit New York. Not just rain which would have been nasty but okay, but cold, windy, rain, the kind that tears your umbrella out of your hand, or turns it inside out as your walking. That kind of rain.

I had my RWA meeting plus the board meeting beforehand. We had a great speaker in Dee Davis, and four potential new members showed up out of the rain. I managed to get a copy of Dee's new book for our basket, and also Timmy Handelman gave me a copy of her new Tracy Kelleher book which I devoured when I got home.

Getting home, that was another ordeal. It seems there was an 'incident' at 72nd which meant there were no uptown 1,2, or 3 trains. So my only other option, apart from taking the bus which would have meant standing out in the monsoon, was to take the A train up to 168th and Broadway, and then take the downtown 1 back to 145th Street. Or I could have gotten off at 145th and St. Nicholas and walked in the monsoon. I opted to get off at 168th Street. All this meant that instead of it taking me a half hour to get home, it took an hour.

I was supposed to go out Saturday night down to a bar on the Lower East Side for the after Tartan Day Parade party. I ended up not going because A) there was a monsoon outside and B) my jeans were soaking wet from the rain, not to mention C) my bad hair day. Plus the idea of spending time with men in wet wool didn't appeal to me.

Oh, there was a time in my early twenties or in college when I thought nothing of going out in a snowstorm to a bar for 3 for 1 night. Of course, this was Syracuse, where there is nothing to do at night but go out and drink. When you're 40, and there's a monsoon, you really want to look your best when you're looking for love. Saturday night was not it.

Sunday dawned with the changing of the clocks. Why don't they put a big sign somewhere to remind people to put there clocks forward, so that idiots like me don't forget? I'm on my way to the gym when I realize it's not 8:45 but 9:45 meaning I've missed my NIA class, and now I have to take body sculpting. I was not in the mood for body sculpting but what can you do?

Then later, on my way downtown, more train troubles. The trains were terminating at 42nd Street, so I had to take the N to 14th Street to go shopping. Of course, the Banana Republic I went to didn't have the skirt I wanted, which was a totally wasted trip, not to mention that I didn't win the trip to Scotland either at Grand Central.

At home that night, my computer decided to futz out on me. My computer is almost 9 years old, which is practically prehistoric in computer terms. I know I need a new one, but since I have no money, and no credit right now, it'll have to wait.

This morning, I overslept, not waking up until 7 o'clock instead of six. My body clock is all screwed up because of the time change, but I prefer to blame it on Ralph Fiennes. Why Ralph Fiennes? Because I made the mistake of watching the first part of a 3 hour epic starring Mr. Fiennes as not 1, not 2, but 3 Jews in one family, grandfather, father and son.

Tell me, does anyone find Ralph Fiennes sexy? If you do, please let me know why? His brother yes, Joseph exudes sex but Ralph is at most asexual. His scenes with Kirsten Scott Thomas in English Patient were painful to me.

Anyway, I woke up late, couldn't find my pantyhose, ended up having to buy a new pair on the way to work, they didn't have the color I wanted so I'm stuck with black, and I'm having a bad hair day, which is great since I have to head down to the Tribeca Film Festival this afternoon after work.

Oh, and the Pope died this weekend. The 'funky pontiff' as Bono called him. So I'm feeling a little off today to say the least!