Crazy Fingers

Check out this very cool site that lists blogs by subway station. I’m listed here, at the 23rd Street stop on the E train.

Balducci’s broke my ATM card.

I went in there after work to buy some chicken breast and pre-washed salad, and attempted to pay with my ATM card. I went through the whole routine with the keypad once, and the guy said “It didn’t take. Try again.” Like an idiot, I did. And again. And again. Eventually, the ATM terminal started saying “declined.”

I don’t know why I finally bothered to look at the password-asterisks on the ATM terminal, but I noticed that although my PIN is 7-digits long, only the first 6 key presses were producing an asterisk in the LED. Then it was like, “DUH,” if only 6 digits are going in to the ATM terminal, I’ve been entering my password incorrectly all this time. I reckoned that all those incorrect password attempts locked out my ATM card.

Why did I keep trying? I don’t know. I was stressed out from my first day of work, and in a hurry to get to Billy’s (to buy cupcakes) then home, because Brian’s mother and brother are coming over to have a cupcake with a candle for Brian’s mother’s birthday, which is today. I also wanted to cook in my new kitchen for the first time.

Anyway, I was quite upset. I had two dollars in my wallet and no way to get cash. The manager of Balducci’s gave me the chicken breast and pre-washed salad for free, and threw in some Balducci’s chocolate bars, too.

I hate Balducci’s because, even though I got my groceries for free, this is a monumental inconvenience and I feel like the guy at the register should have had some clue what was wrong, and not encouraged me to keep trying again. When I said (loudly) “these machines only take a six digit pin” other cashiers knew about that limitation. I just feel like my guy should have known and prevented me from repeatedly attempting to use my ATM card.

I’m also sort of annoyed with my bank. I called Chase to confirm that I really did disable my ATM card and to get it turned back on, and some guy in India said that although I was correct that my card was locked out, and although I had all the verification information, I would still have to walk into a Chase branch to fix my ATM card. (Since I work in Jersey City now, that ain’t happening.) I protested, and he transferred me to someone who said the card would automatically reset at midnight. You’d think they’d be able to do something on the spot, but no.

We’ll see if the card actually works again at midnight.

Have I mentioned that Brian’s apartment has a fireplace and a terrace? Contact me if you want to sublet it.

Brian and I had our apartment painted. The building management gave us a free paintjob, which would have left everything repainted all white. Brian and I selected some colors and schmeared the painter, who (after a difficult negotiation process) was willing to paint the apartment with our colors. (Maybe I’ll share some details about the multi-day color-selection process when I have some more time.)

The guy started yesterday and finished today.

Here are some before and after shots.

Before	After

This is the painter, hard at work. He did a great job. We’ve got his number if you need a good painter in New York City.

That’s me and Brian on New Year’s Eve at the Urban Outings New Year’s Eve party.

There’s no real reason for me to have posted that picture with this post. I had been planning to write something about the Urban Outings party, but almost a week has passed and it doesn’t seem timely anymore. I also planned to write about the firemen Brian I saw on Christmas night, the ones who took a truck out of the fire house to help a pretty girl get back into the apartment out of which she was locked (and I have pictures, too), but that was almost two weeks ago. I started a post about Brian and his fireplace, and the mess in his apartment, but that, too, languishes in my drafts. I may still finish the post I started about the process of choosing colors and painting the new apartment. I may also finish the post I started about the Cream Puff War — the fact that there are two chains of stores (this one and this one) in New York which sell nothing but cream puffs.

But life intrudes.

I’ve been, for all intents and purposes, living at Brian’s for the past three weeks. This is not an official “move-in” situation, so I’ve been living out of a suitcase. We’ve been sharing a computer, and since it’s his, he gets to kick me off. We’ve been running around looking for apartments, eating, working out, sleeping, eating some more, shopping, picking colors, visiting with family and friends, and doing all the other real-life stuff that people do.

I’ve noticed that it takes a long time to write a post I like. It’s a minimum of half an hour, usually much more. Pictures get posted, links get found, words get agonized over. (Preferably, I avoid sentences like that last one.)

So the blog has languished.

I start a job next week at a great company, and I think that whole situation is a huge opportunity for me, so I’m not going to blow it by blogging from the office. I still want to get to the gym twice most days (cardio in the morning, resistance at night), and in the new apartment, we’ll be cooking dinner most nights (in part because we’ll have a great new kitchen, and in part because we won’t be able to afford to eat out, or order in, every night). At least I’ll have my own computer at home again, assuming I actually spend any time in the new place, as opposed to spending most of my time at Brian’s, since he’s not officially moving in until March, when we’ve been a couple for a year. At least until we’ve known each other for a year. Anyway, maybe next week I’ll find some time to write before bed or something.

As for right now, I’ve got to go feed a parking meter. I left a good spot (good until tomorrow morning) because I thought I could find one that’s good until Monday morning, but that was a big mistake, and now I’m parked at a meter on 8th Avenue. Then we have to go take a look at the new apartment (the old tenant is moving out today) to make sure we like our color choices, then buy paint, then hit the gym with Brian to do back, then go for drinks with my former coworkers at DSTi, then out for dinner at the new Italian place, Del Posto, on 10th Avenue (Brian is excited about it, and about 10th Avenue in general, even though what’s happening on 10th Avenue is symptomatic of why he and I will have difficulty being able to continue to live here in Chelsea).

Oh, and today is our 10th monthiversary.