The work dynamic is very odd. Boss talks in a way to his employees as interregators talking to criminals. Manager gets on the phone everyday and yells to china factory about their latest failure. MA smirks on the side, seems as though she is plotting for me to fail. The owner is refer to as ''The BIG Boss'' only, not by name, but a title that is the ultimate say it seems.

Work has been okay. But more reasons to leave. Long hours 10.5 per day with only 30min inside lunch and no summer hours. I work over 50 hours a week and the paycheck i get after tax is only 1125 every 2 weeks, which equals out be 10 dollars an hour. No summer hours it seems, someone dropped the ball on that one this year. And only 5 days of paid of vacation AFTER first year and 10 days after 10 years.

The hours I have actually gotten use to, it is a pain the arse. But I think my English is getting worse because I don't use it on a daily basis, and when I do use it, it is very simple communication. I am surrounded by people who don't know how to use it properly, so i am picking up all the wrong ways to speak.

July 28th
I had just finished the catalog last Friday, although the scariest part of the nightmare is over, i am still left with hunted ghosts. They hurry me to finish it then after wards find mistakes in the catalog. They should have just taken their time and got it right when they could. And I go back to working on the things that I do not care for, such as shooting new samples, organize these samples and keeping the digital files in order.

Food to see, and things to eat, and people to do. You figure it out. 

MURAKAMI- April 5–July 13, 2008
People are going crazy at it, but I'll wait until the dust settles to go.
http://www.brooklynmuseum.org/

Cai Guo-Qiang I want to Believe - till May 28, 2008
http://www.guggenheim.org/exhibitions/exhibition_pages/cai.html

Da Andrea 557 Hudson St,   New York 10014 (Btwn Perry St & 11th St)
Ristorante Italiano
Home cook Italian food?

Dessert Truck (8th Street and University Pl) and their review

If I get angry at you and lash-out, it is not my fault, it is yours. I always stand behind my anger, because it doesn't happen very often, very few have seen it and takes a lot for me to get angry at anyone. When it does happen and I gather up the courage to confront you about it, you have already gone so far beyond the line of offending me. You need to apologize as soon as possible, sincerely and with honesty.

It has only been 2 weeks, already I find myself dilly dally through the day. I have nothing to do for the time being, and sitting here makes me feel like I am stealing. Stealing company money without doing anything besides getting here at 8am, tip toeing around and hoping they won't notice that I am not doing anything work related. My manager informs me that the december month will be very busy since we are printing out the new catalog.

 

Out of the corner of my eyes, there stood a glimpse of him. Instinctively, I turned my attention to him and tried to recall his face almost 10 years ago.

I was 13 and he was 15. Roger to me was just someone's brother at the temple youth group. The annual temple "Sweet 16" event was held that year at a remote ballroom in Queens. After the ceremony, the adults sat around the banquet tables towards the back of the room, while the kids gather awkwardly on the dimly lit dance floor. I had carefully picked out my outfit for the occasion because it was a big event, which causes random cute boys to turn up. Dressed in black slacks, a white tank top, aqua blue suit jacket (with shoulder pads) and patent leather shoes, I felt older, elegant and pretty. After exerting my energy on the techno dance music, a slow song came on. The floor dispersed immediately as couples gather for each other's hands and giggling girls took their seat or made an excuse to visit the bathroom. Mariah Carey was still building up to her chorus belt out when I took a seat next to Roger, noticed that he was not dancing before; I asked "why aren't you dancing?" He didn't reply but stood up and held out his hand for a dance with me. Slightly shocked, as this was the moment that being a teen girl was all about, I head seen it in movies, read about it in magazines and hear stories of older girl's slow dance experiences. Without realizing what was happening, I was being lead on to the wooden floor with my heart pounding and feeling slightly embarrassed. Also wondering if he had misheard my question and thought I was asking him to dance instead. Regardless, he held me in his arms, we moved slowly to the music in circles. Not knowing where to look, I rested my head on his shoulder and hoped he could not feel my short of breath-ness and quick pulse-ness. Although I was never attracted to him before, the dance shed a different light.

I recognized him as I walked by. Like most us that grew bigger over the years, he did too, filling in his face and the rest of the body, although his facial expression, a nonchalant look remains the same. He probably didn't know the significant of that dance for the 13 year old me, but I still get slightly embarrassed looking at him in the eyes, even as strangers on the street.