barneymuggin

Oh EW

2007-07-19T13:52:00.000-04:00

A few days ago, my worst nightmare was having bugs in my bed.

Now, it is having bugs in my FACE.

Is it Friday yet?

2007-05-09T14:12:00.000-04:00

Don't sweat it

2007-03-21T01:50:00.000-04:00

This is the most amazing product ever. It just straight up stops your sweat. You put it on at night, get up, shower, put on your usual deodorant, and go about your day. I have been using it for an entire week, and I have yet to begin sweating.

I'm very curious to find out how this stuff actually works. Really - how does it stop the sweat from coming out? There was a little pamphlet inside of the box, but it only told you basically not to eat it. Hmm. That's another thing I'd be curious about -- meeting someone who would consider deodorant a prospective food...

But that's another story. I'm off to enjoy my nice clean armpits!

Spring has sprung

2007-03-13T20:00:00.000-04:00

Songs for Almost Summer

(compiled by Liz)

1. The Crane Wife 3 – The Decemberists
2. Second Day of the Year – Goldenboy
3. Where We Went Wrong – The Hush Sound
4. I Don’t Know Why – Ben Kweller
5. Don’t Call Me Whitney, Bobby – Islands
6. Starman – Seu Jorge
7. Australia – The Shins
8. With You – Stars of Track and Field
9. Halo the Harpoons – The Stills
10. Chicago – Sufjan Stevens
11. You’re the Ocean – Teitur
12. Independence Day – Elliott Smith
13. Vertigo – Jump, Little Children
14. Here Comes the Sun Again – M. Ward
15. La Piece Vide – Yann Tiersen

Getting up from under the weather...

2007-03-12T19:50:00.000-04:00

This morning was the first time in two whole days where I didn’t have to get up and puke! Hooray, health! I’ve graduated from Sprite Zero and broth-based soup to soda crackers and apples. Tomorrow I shall try three meals!

I don’t know what I had this weekend, but it was BAD. I woke up Saturday morning, relocated from bed to toilet where I remained until around seven that night. I missed my screening of 300, my weekly library visit and a beautiful New York Saturday. The next day I ventured outdoors, ate small sliver of banana bread, spoke to another human, and watched several bad movies.

Do you remember the movie, Clue? Yes, like the game. Actually, it is the actual board game, over-cast with ridiculously talented actors and topped with stilted dialogue and corny one-liners. My cousins and I were obsessed with this movie when we were little; it was the only movie with killing in it we were allowed to rent when we stayed at our grandparents’, so we thought it was both cool and shocking. I don’t know why I thought it was shocking, seeing as I had been allowed to watch Pink Flamingos with my Uncle Bob years earlier, but even so, I still screamed when the cook falls out of the meat locker.

I also watched Heavenly Creatures, which I think might have been one of Kate Winslet’s first films. I love her. I missed a good twenty minutes because I had to run to the bathroom and was too exhausted to find the remote afterwards, but from what I did see, I gathered it was Single White Female meets The Good Son - in New Zealand. It was very pretty and

Deeply concerned

2007-03-09T12:54:00.000-05:00

I think I might have left my space heater on in my apartment this morning. I won't be back home until after midnight tonight, so I'm a little worried something might happen. Like a fire or an explosion of some kind. I guess if it gets to be 4:00 and I haven't received a phone call, I'm in the clear, but still...I wonder.

I'm also concerned about the security of my actual apartment building. Around five this morning, I woke to deafening screams approaching the front entrance. When the screaming stopped, and I braced myself for the sound of all twenty buzzers being pressed at the same time, or at least the drunken jumbling of keys. This happens at least once a week -- people get locked out, get fed up with finding the right key and just press everyone's buttons (figuratively too) until someone responds.

Living on the second floor, you can hear most of what goes on when people enter the building (whether you want to or not), including every time a door is unlocked. I'm telling you, this person used no keys, just walked right in, through both doors, right up the stairs - until he was standing in front of MY apartment, breathing heavily.

I put a pillow in my mouth to keep from screaming, and tried to remember if I had locked the deadbolt or not (of course I did, I'm paranoid). I was about to very quietly sneak over and check it, when Whoever-It-Was started yelling: "Exterminator! Exterminator!"

He kept screaming "Exterminator!!" for several minutes, while I stayed hidden under my covers, praying that one of my bigger, stronger neighbors would wake up and get rid of him. I was considering calling the cops when the guy suddenly lowered his voice, whispered "Exterminator!" one last time, and then SPIT all over my door before taking off into the night, no doubt to terrorize someone else.

I will sleep in fear from now on!

I want to throw something

2007-02-23T06:34:00.000-05:00

I have been stood up for meetings on three separate days this week. One. Two. Three. After factoring in the time spent on the subway, plus the time spent walking to and from each place, I realized that about seven hours of my life were wasted. Seven hours! That is practically an entire workday; I could have called in sick, spent the afternoon with my thumb up my ass and would've had more to show from it.

Do these people not have schedules? Because I do, and I am uptight about mine.

And because I am now so far behind, I am going to have to go into the office this weekend to catch up. I know it's my decision, that no one is putting a gun to my head to give up my Saturday afternoon, but if I don't go in, I'll have to stay late every day next week. I lose either way, so I might as well get it over with as soon as possible...right?

Oh, life.

Audiotherapy

2007-02-17T01:34:00.000-05:00

Despite the fact that everything I did or said today was all wrong, I have to remember that my life does not actually suck. My life does not actually suck!

It is days like this which cause me to turn up my music and dance. And when I say "music", I mean my "Guilty Pleasures" playlist on my Ipod.

Some favorites (just try and be unhappy):

Calculus - 2Gether
Escapade - Janet Jackson
Girl You Know It's True - Milli Vanilli
Hit Em Upstyle - Blu Cantrell
I Want to Dance with Somebody - Whitney Houston
I Want You Back - NSync
Jump (For My Love) - Pointer Sisters
No Scrubs - TLC
Rock DJ - Robbie Williams
She Drives Me Crazy - Fine Young Cannibals
Shoop - Salt 'n Peppa
Wannabe - Spice Girls
I Wanna Talk About Me - Toby Keith (ewww!)
Jungle Boogie - Kool & the Gang
You Can Never Tell - Chuck Berry
Hey Ya - Outkast
Instant Pleasure - Rufus Wainwright
Notorious - Duran Duran
Promiscuous - Nelly Furtado
Real Good Time - Queen
Better Luck - Scissor Sisters

Happy Valentine's Day!

2007-02-14T10:02:00.000-05:00

And now, a quiz:

Your Candy Heart Is "WHAT EVA"

Valentine's Day makes you a little sick
And not just from eating too much candy
You're opposed to the commercial celebration of couple-dom
It's not all about love - and love is not all about overpriced flowers!

What Candy Conversation Heart Are You?

For Valentine's Day I received a box of candles and a bottle of wine at my office. Some of my co-workers were quite intrigued until I told them it was from my mom.

Whatever, at least I won't have to share any of it with some guy who is only going to cause me emotional problems.

Hiiiiii - yah!

2007-02-12T16:25:00.000-05:00

I have a positive feeling about this week: Monday is nearly over, I'm not broke, my apartment is clean (aside from a stack of dirty dishes in the sink, but those don't count because they never really go away), I am all caught-up on sleep, and I found a couple of gift certificates I thought I'd lost. I'm 90% sure Media Play is no longer in existence, but maybe I can still convince somebody, somewhere to give me some money.

ALSO, a random guy on the subway last night gave me a free goody bag. It was as if he had read my mind because included in the goodies were: a collection of short stories (I just finished a book) and some Burt's Bees body wash (I just ran out of my crappy Suave stuff).

My only request is it for there to be snow this week; it's mid-February - there should be snow! I would ask for a Valentine too, but I think that would be pushing it.

Good day.

I need a drink

2007-02-08T18:02:00.002-05:00

I am in a foul mood because:

My shampoo was frozen this morning.
I have a hole in my favorite pair of tights.
I got stood up for a meeting and had to stand on a windy corner freezing my face off.
High school boys hit on me.
People aren't returning my phone calls on important matters.
My neighbor is apparently trying to smoke me out of my apartment.
I fell asleep while typing something last night, and my laptop fell off of my loft. I don't know if it's ok.

I wore my big black heels today because they make me feel mean and powerful - bitch boots!

God, please let my laptop be alright.....

Scary space stalker

2007-02-06T18:02:00.000-05:00

The closest times I have ever come to stalking someone:

1. Junior year of high school: I would take the long route home so I could drive past Sexy Soccer Guy's house and maybe see him. It was harmless until I decided to talk about it to someone at school - who happened to be his girlfriend.

2. Junior year of college, first semester: I fell madly in love with a Pre-Med who spent most of his time in the library, so I made sure to go there every day in hopes of snagging a spot nearby. This was a pretty sweet deal because there were several nights where I became so bored I actually studied. It conflicted greatly with my drinking schedule, but it was probably the only time in my life where pretending to like school earned me not one, but two dates. In the end? Completely crazy and not so cute up close.

3. Junior year of college, second semester: I was suddenly very enthusiastic about our school's baseball team (read: the center fielder) and went to nearly every home game. Of course, I was not alone, so it wasn't as fun.

These are the only things that come to mind, and for a person who has been dating for roughly a decade, it doesn't seem ridiculous at all. Certainly not as ridiculous as oh, say this.

Woman, what were you thinking? To be a crazy stalker is one thing, but to be a crazy stalker who smells of their own feces is another. I like how her attorney used her "commitment to the space program" as leverage for a pre-trial release, as if that has anything to do with it. She wore an adult diaper just so she could be prompt in harassing a woman she had never met. Goodness.

Happy birthday to me (and Oprah)

2007-01-29T17:29:00.000-05:00

In 4th grade, a girl in my class got a "Celebrity Birthdays" book from the annual book fair. You could look up any day to see which famous individuals shared your birthday, as well as a few "fun facts" about what he or she had accomplished in life. It was a hit. Suddenly, one's coolness could be determined by whether or not their stars were aligned with a pop culture icon. Michael Jackson: cool (ok, it was like, 1993), Proust: not cool. The only notable figure I had even heard of on my list was William McKinley, and the only reason I had heard of him in the first place was because I had been forced into doing a report on him the year before. I was uncool, and green with middle-school envy. It must have been one hell of a bad day because the backlash of my non-celebrity birthday status carried on until I was a teenager. Freshman year of high school, I lied to this one girl by telling her that Justin Timberlake and I were exactly a year apart. I don't know why I made it up, but it was right when NSync was starting to get hot and do more than just the occasional Disney Channel concert (remember those?!).

So just out of curiosity, I looked my birthday up again, just to see if the list was like, updated or something. And here's what I came up with:

Thomas Paine, American writer
Romain Rolland, French writer
Vicente Blasco Ibanez, Spanish writer
W.C Fields, Stage and film comedian
Adam Clayton Powell, American politician
Victor Mature, American actor
Paddy Chayevsky, American writer
Greg Louganis, Olympic diver
Oprah Winfrey, Actress, television host
William McKinley, American president

Oprah! How 'bout that? And I used to be a diver, so I can appreciate Greg Louganis too.

Onward!

So I don't have much going on for the big 2-5. I made myself a big breakfast this morning, treated myself to some overpriced coffee, and enjoyed a pleasant (if only slightly freezing) day of work. No mysterious bouquet of roses to agonize over this year - YES! Live music and dessert tonight, dinner Thursday and dinner and DRINKING Friday. That's all I need.

Happy Birthday, O!

Struck

2007-01-28T11:21:00.000-05:00

Sexual tension is so bizarre. I'm having it right now with someone, and I can't tell if it's just me, or if he can feel the weirdness as well. This is a guy who I've known for over a year, a guy I've never thought of as anything more than a friend, and BOOM - we're on the subway a few days ago, and suddenly I began to worry about if my hair part made me look like an idiot, or if he could tell that my lips were chapped. I mean, this person had seen me look a whole lot worse than I did that afternoon (I was wearing my cute new boots and had washed my hair) - why, then, was that day different than any other?

This has never happened before. Usually when I meet a guy, he either falls into the "friend" category, or the "crush" (I hate this word, but whatever) category, and I do one of two things: either be myself, or begin scheming on how to be cute/sexy/intelligent at key moments when he is around. I've never developed feelings for a platonic friend (well, not sober) right out of the blue before. Not really. It was like, Wednesday I wanted to tell him about the book I was reading, and Friday I wanted to make out on the F train. I am a woman possessed!

What to do?

Pandas!

2007-01-26T17:33:00.000-05:00

This is out-of-control. Is there an animal on this planet happier than a baby panda? Is there? More pictures and "bios" here.

Oscar nominations: my thoughts

2007-01-24T18:00:00.000-05:00

This is one of the first years I haven't cared much about the Oscars. Honestly. Usually I either feel wronged by the inclusion (or exclusion) of a nominee, or torn about who to pick as my favorite in a specific category.

I think the acting categories were pretty well-picked, though the thought of Eddie Murphy winning an Academy Award is a little odd, seeing as his next film involves a fat suit. Again. And although she was completely amazing in Dreamgirls, the main reason I want Jennifer Hudson to win is because it will make Beyonce mad. I don't like Beyonce.

I'm a little unnerved that Click was nominated for Best Makeup and Pirates of the Caribbean was, um, not. I understand that this award has nothing to do with the point of the film, but come on - it's Click!

Even more unnerving was the fact that Children of Men wasn't nominated for Best Picture. And Borat for Best Adapted Screenplay? That is silly. Wasn't half of it improvised?

This year I am just happy that Ellen will be hosting.

Here are the nominees just in case. =)

Finished

2007-01-16T10:49:00.000-05:00

Well, folks, I'm finished. For the most part. I spent the better part of the long weekend inside my apartment writing, and I am pleased to say that I now have something to show for it: 67 typed pages, two filled notebooks and plenty of index cards with cryptic instructions to things I need to fix.

I am VERY excited! And a little freaked out. There is no turning back now.

Tonight's agenda: transfer my chicken scratch into Final Draft over several glasses of wine and the Match Point soundtrack. Watch Spanglish if I have time.

Attack of the Chinese penis

2007-01-05T20:09:00.000-05:00

Something terrible happens to me when I go into Chinatown. Not the outskirts of Chinatown, like near where I live, but I'm talking about where the Starbucks and McDonald's have Chinese menus. Every time I am in this area I am afflicted. Pushed in the grocery store, laughed at when I don't know understand what people are saying, food poisoning - catch my drift?

But I always go back. My library is there, and so is the post office where my mail is all to often rerouted (my apartment mailbox is about the size of my hand). And hell, give me a place where I can get a nice block of tofu or five apples for a buck, I am there. Or at least I was - after what just happened to me, I think I might be scarred for life.

I had just gone to the library to pick up some books that had arrived, when I realized I was being followed by a middle-aged gentleman carrying a garbage bag full of aluminum cans. I crossed the street, he crossed the street. I ducked into a store, he was right behind me. No words were exchanged, no eye contact, no nothing, yet still, I was threatened.

Rather than have this strange person stalk me through the sketchy back streets I usually take to get home, I opted for the subway. Naturally, he followed.

The train was packed, but I managed to grab one of the last seats. Unfortunately, Can Man squirmed through the crowd until he was directly in front of me. Up close he was filthy - smudged pants, dirty nailbeds (EW.) and traces of something - quite possibly duck sauce - stuck in both corners of his lips like he forgot to wipe properly. Mouth boogars.

I began to worry that he might try to bite me, shed duck sauce crust on me or smash one of his cans on my head. But all of those thoughts - actually all thoughts period - went streaming out of my brain when he reached up to grab the overhead bar, lifting his coat from over his pants to expose his big, wrinkly PENIS.

There it was, just hanging out of his jeans like it didn't have a care in the world. The woman next to me definitely saw it, but she certainly didn't seem to care. Probably because it wasn't flopping about two inches away from her knees! I closed my eyes and prayed for him to disappear, but instead, he took his hands off the bar to adjust his cans and, as luck would have it, lurched forward into my lap. His penis touched my crotch for exactly 3 seconds, but each one proved even more revolting than the one before it. This was too much. In a very loud voice I proclaimed, "Sir, your dick is hanging out of your pants." Then the train stopped and I made my escape.

He didn't follow me.

The most obvious question here is: how do you not notice your penis hanging out of your pants? How? I can understand forgetting to tuck the little guy into your boxers, but COME ON - in the Can Man's situation, wouldn't you like, feel a breeze? And most importantly, if you accidentally knocked the thing dangerously below the waist of a very normal, very sweet girl, wouldn't you apologize? What the HELL?

Excuse me while I go boil my pants in the hottest, most scalding water possible.

2007 Resolutions

2007-01-03T14:13:00.000-05:00

Ok, so I know New Year's Day is over and done with, but technically, since my birthday hasn't happened yet, it's not a new year for me. That means I have 25 more days before I really have to start behaving.

BUT that doesn't mean I won't try and practice. This year's self-improvement plan includes:

Put more money in my savings account each month.
Make more time for MYSELF.
Bake on a regular basis.
Take more pictures.
Send more snail mail.
Floss daily.
Keep up on laundry and dishes.
To finish a script - and I mean really finish it.

25 sweet days...

Post-holiday dumbness

2007-01-02T13:24:00.000-05:00

Hi.

So I basically didn't have the Internet for the past ten days I spent at my parents' house. Yes, we do have that in Ohio, but since my sister's boyfriend was camped out in our basement where the computer is, it was a little hard to find time when he was not sleeping or "watching movies" with her.

Quite honestly, you didn't miss too much. Christmas was delightful - I got my coffee maker (sort of - it's being mailed to me along with all the liquid-ish things I couldn't take on the plane), gift certificates to fun/useful places, a handful of Woody Allen movies and, among other things, a Nerf dart gun to shoot my loud Spanish music-loving neighbors. That'll show 'em.

New Year's Eve was as exciting as it gets in Cincinnati: went to a bar in Mt. Lookout, ran into people from high school, and was in bed by 2am. I had a good time, but could have done without the attention of all the probable sex offenders lurking about. My, my, my. I used to feel bad for gross guys who'd try - with repeated unsuccess - to get girls to dance with them, but not anymore. Why is it never the hot, normally-dressed man who wants to dance all up on me? WHY? It is like I have a big, glowing beacon on my head that only the crazies can see. And it won't stop.

What else happened? Well, I went to my cousin's wedding, and my dad snuck in beer to the reception. I watched the entire first season of Six Feet Under, ate Skyline three times, and caught up on sleep. Little writing was done, as I had limited computer time, but I did manage to put down some thoughts on paper. I took an old notebook to Sitwell's , curled up on one of the old movie theater seats and felt very romantic for a few hours with my fair trade coffee - at least until the place was taken over by gothic high school kids.

I always feel bad about leaving Ohio on the way back (damn Catholic guilt). But when the plane descends over that Manhattan skyline, I am reminded of all the millions of reasons I love NYC and don't want to leave it anytime soon.

Call me

2006-12-15T19:48:00.000-05:00

Sometimes I wish that the only method of communication was the telephone. That's what I'm talking about: just a plain old phone, no frills, no gadgets.

All this communication technology we have in these modern times, well, it's making me a little nuts. You have your run-of-the-mill land line telephone, which is now available with as many functions as a small computer. From there on it just becomes a big mess. I could handle it when cell phones were phones: you dialed a number WITH YOUR FINGERS and either spoke to an actual person or their machine. Not confusing.

My phone doesn't even have text messaging. Well, technically it does, but I can't see who is texting me or what they are saying. I've tried to fix it before, at least to see the messages, but apparently, to do that I would have to go to the Sprint Headquarters in blah blah blah, and I have never found the time. I can't imagine what they can do for me there that can't be done over the phone...who knows?

There are several BIG reasons I am so severely biased against text messaging. For one, as long as there is text messaging, there will be those people who must do it at all times, ie: while walking in FRONT of me when I am in a hurry or during an actual conversation we are having. Or on DATES - there is nothing more insulting than sitting at a bar, feigning happiness while the very guy who asked me out is Blackberrying away with clients. What, I say, WHAT could possibly be happening in the business world at two o'clock in the morning? Nothing, that's what. And the next time this occurs, I am going to throw it across the room.

There you have it.

Good day.

Vertical

2006-12-13T01:12:00.000-05:00

Whoever invented the cough syrup I just took is a liar. I have been trying to sleep for the past two hours and I still can't lie down without going into convulsions. Might as well do some work, right? No, can't manage that either. I made it from page 32 to page 35, which took exactly one round of my "Best of Mozart" playlist. I'm going to have to redo it tomorrow though, because I became so frustrated that I gave up and typed "FIX FIX FIX FIX" over and over again in certain parts.

The holidays are kicking my butt. I leave for Cincinnati next week and I have not yet sent out holiday cards or bought gifts for 75% of the people on my list. Leaving it to the last couple of days before Christmas is out of the question because that means I will be in Cincinnati and will have to go to The Mall. The last time I went to a mall to do Christmas shopping was two years ago at Tri-County on December 24th. There was an incident with a gun, and they wouldn't let anyone leave for like, 3 hours. It was the worst thing ever.

That's it, I'm running to the store. Maybe a beer will help. Or five.

My head hurts owstopit.

2006-12-08T19:16:00.000-05:00

If someone asks you to do a shot of whiskey, say no. If someone asks you to to go to another bar after you've already been drinking for three hours, say no. And if, when you arrive at the other bar and someone asks you to do another shot of whiskey, please, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, say no. Because if you do bad things will happen, like for instance, injury, the ruining of clothes and the losing of one's keys.

I didn't lose the keys exactly, but I thought I did for about two hours. Same difference. I walked all the way home: no keys. Walked back to the bar: no keys. Went back to the first bar: no keys. Walked around some more: no keys. Tripped and fell: ruined very favorite black pants and gashed my knee. Took off coat and threw it on the ground: KEYS!

I had a hole on my pocket. The keys had slid down into the lining, and when the wool hit concrete there was also a distinctively key-like jingling. That's how I found them.

Official passing out time? 5:08am, at the end of my futon, bleeding and wearing a Santa hat.

Not a good way to win my heart...

2006-12-08T14:15:00.000-05:00

While making out with someone:

GUY: So, are you free this Sunday night?
ME: I don't think so - I'm supposed to go see a movie with some people and then call it an early night.
GUY: Oh, what movie?
ME: Apocolypto. I don't really want to see it though...I mean I do, but I know I'll feel dirty the entire time.
GUY: Why?
ME: Well, the whole Mel Gibson thing - I think he's a crazy asshole.
GUY: I think Mel Gibson is right. I fucking hate Jews!

Long pause. I put on shirt.

ME: What?
GUY: I fucking hate Jews!
ME: I heard you. But, um, why do you hate Jewish people?
GUY: I don't know, I just fucking hate them.
ME: I'm Jewish.
GUY: You are?
ME: I think you should go.

He leaves.

I'm not Jewish - that was a lie - but that still does not mean he didn't deserve to be shamed.

Where do I find these people?

Bugga boo

2006-12-01T23:01:00.000-05:00

Something terrible happened to me this morning. TERRIBLE.

Always before I wash up, I go to the bathroom. Some people just say, "Fuck it", and pee in the shower, but I prefer to keep the two separate. Peeing anywhere except in a toilet is gross. Anyway, so it's like 7 a.m., I'm sitting on the loo, and I'm doing my business. Like usual. But before I even had a chance to finish, I feel this tickling on the right side of my butt, look down and see a HUGE HAIRY SPIDER. Eight lets, eight eyes, bristles and ten kinds of spider bacteria in my toilet and on my ass. It flew off my hand and scurried behind my sink so quickly, I didn't even have time to scream. The worst part of it was that I had to continue with my morning bathroom routine as if nothing had happened; I couldn't very well go on a bug-killing spree and use it as an excuse for being late to work.

That morning, I showered in fear. And I will continue to do so, because for all I know, the spider is STILL in there, just waiting to bite me. You can laugh, but I'm telling you, things are ten times scarier when you are naked than when you are fully-clothed.

What not to do on J-Date

2006-11-29T13:24:00.000-05:00

Ok. So this is somewhat old news and, well, J-Date doesn't really apply to me as I am not Jewish, but it's still probably one of the best dating stories I've ever read. And by "best" I mean "worst".

See for yourself.

The perfect afternoon

2006-11-26T01:33:00.000-05:00

65 degrees and nearly December! People looked genuinely startled upon leaving their apartments this afternoon, but despite the heat, heavy coats and hats stayed put. I've noticed this about New Yorkers - they always seem to dress as if it is ten degrees colder than the actual temperature. Maybe it is just my Midwestern burliness.

I just love good weather. Good weather makes everyone happy. People smile at strangers, hold the door for old women, and there is even less honking in the streets. When I ordered lunch, the cute little man behind the counter was just so bursting with joy that I should come and order a vegetarian wrap from his deli, he threw two free oatmeal raisen muffins in my bag. Of everything this weekend, this made me the happiest – people just being joyful and silly and sweet to each other.

N-E-way...

I discovered a four day-old package notice in my purse, so my first visit was to the Chinatown post office. My mom sent me pumpkin bread, chocolate covered sunflower seeds and pumpkin candles as a kind of a Missed Thanksgiving offering. I took the food, swung by the library and secured the least disgusting park bench available.

I'm reading “Prep” by Curtis Sittenfield, which has turned out to be only a little chicky, and contains some of the best character names ever put down on paper. I was reading it furiously, but then a drunk man came by and puked beside my bench. I was the only one in the whole park that seemed to mind him - not even the little kids straight out of church! I guess that’s what happens when you are born in this town – by the time you are three, you’ve seen it all.

After he finished throwing up, the drunk man decided to go inside the library. I presumed it was to get sick again in a proper bathroom, or at least to rinse out his filthy mouth with water, but when I was getting ready to cross the street a few minutes later, I saw him stagger out of the park, with not one, but two books! Both were Stephen King. Amazing.

It was only 2 o’clock, and already I had walked a decent mile, received a package, read half a book and nearly been vomited on.

I love the holidays. Even when they are unseasonably warm.

Turn down yo music!

2006-11-24T23:55:00.000-05:00

I am slowly developing an affinity for hating loud Spanish music. It’s almost midnight, and while I’m ready for bed, my neighbors seem to feel otherwise. I can’t pinpoint exactly where the music is coming from, but it is close enough to cause my windows to vibrate slightly. I mean really - I find it hard to believe that the stereo owners are honestly enjoying it.

These people are the same ones who drive ugly cars, yet play their music at a deafening level as they drive down the street. It’s like, “Oooh, look at me and my ugly car! It doesn’t have any hubcaps, but man, the stereo is bitchin'!”

I don't know, I just want this to stop.

Thanksgivinged

2006-11-24T16:52:00.000-05:00

Yesterday was my first NYC Thanksgiving, and I can officially declare it a success. I can also say that it was the first major holiday on which I really felt like a grown-up.

Under normal holiday circumstances, I sleep in until I smell food cooking downstairs (in most cases, ten-ish). Then I wrap myself in about five blankets, put on some socks and descend into the kitchen, never forgetting to sneak in a quick adjustment to the hall thermostat. Aside from an offhand remark about the frigid temperature of our home, my arrival is, for the most part, unannounced. I slip in, slip out, and enjoy my Special K with Berries in front of the television. An hour later, showered and coiffed, I hop into the back of the family Honda SRV, destination: grandparents'.

This year, I had an actual responsibility. It came in the form of a eight-layer salad, and made me so nervous, I was up and out the door at seven. My mom had emailed me the recipe, but my network was down, so I had to find a place with WiFi. You're probably wondering why I didn't just call her - and I almost did - but to dial home for instructions would have taken a lot of the adultness out of the day, so I sucked it up. I have my pride.

After a little running around, I found my WiFi (thank you, Bagel Zone), got the recipe, and got the ingredients. The only actual cooking required was for the bacon topping - the rest of it involved chopping, layering and mixing - but it was still intimidating.

One hour and one Sufjan Stevens CD later, the salad was complete. My apartment smelled smokey and oniony - not quite like Mom's - and my eyes hurt something awful from the fumes, but my creation was complete. It looked pretty. And better yet, edible!

My grand plans for the evening involved dinner in Park Slope. It took me a little over an hour to get there, which wasn't bad considering I had to manuever a heavy bowl and an umbrella while concentrating on matters such as steps, Metrocard swipes, moving subway cars and slippery platforms.

Dinner was awesome. My friend cooked the entire thing herself and the food not only looked pretty, it tasted sensational. Turkey, stuffin', mashed potatoes, green beans, pies, and of course, my little salad. I ate way past my fill, and barely noticed that people were not only eating my salad, but actually seemed to be enjoying it! One person even described it as, "good"!

The rest of the evening was a pleasant blur of football games and alcohol. I couldn't give much of a hoot about pro football, but when combined with wine and decent conversation, it's very nice. It is also very nice to watch games where you have no ties to either team playing. Me, I usually root for whoever has the cutest quarterback, in this case, The Dallas Cowboys. Hey, it was a good game.

I also enjoy Deion Sanders and his hats.

Now it is Friday and while there's still that warm, apple pie feeling lingering in my stomach, I have a cold from the rain and a sink full of dirty dishes. Unless someone can convince me otherwise, I'll be spending the rest of the evening at home with leftovers, Nyquil, and the comforting thought that I still have two more glorious days of weekend left.

Busy little octopus

2006-11-20T17:01:00.000-05:00

I hope this blog finds you well, my friends, on this Monday-est of Mondays. Myself? Well, things could be better.

I have been completely thrown off-course; the catching-up I have to do is tremendous. In fact, the tremendousity of it caused me to shut down for seven hours yesterday. I was so overwhelmed by my life, I had to lie down and close my eyes. When I opened them again, it was midnight – seven hours later – and I was totally disoriented. I tried to get up and take care of some things, but I could not even motivate myself to brush my teeth (this is a huge deal because as a person who does not have dental insurance, every night without a brushing means possible financial loss).

And even with the extra sleep, I still managed to arrive late for work this morning. Technically, I was in the building at 9:30, but with the elevator delay, I walked into the office twelve minutes past that. I hate our elevators. And I hate having to be somewhere at 9:30 in the morning and stay there until well after it is dark outside. I know it could be a lot worse - I could be shoveling elephant poop or have the boss from hell - but sometimes I still feel like a zombie.

My life is a Catch-22: too many obligations, not enough time to make things happen for myself.
I need to concentrate on weeding out all the crap I don't need in my life, finishing all the projects I shouldn't be working on, and not wasting time on people who I know will only turn out to be big flakes. The decluttering begins NOW.

And oh my God, Salt N Peppa's "Shoop" just came on - time to wrap this up and DANCE.

Fun with music

2006-11-09T11:43:00.000-05:00

Latest mix, compliments of Liz:

Fall Songs:

1. Bride of Theme of Blinking Lights - Eels
2. Somewhere Else - Travis
3. Under Cold Blue Stars - Josh Rouse
4. I'm Actual - The Format
5. Halloween - Matt Pond Pa
6. 405 - Death Cab for Cutie
7. Somewhere a Clock is Ticking - Snow Patrol
8. Polaris - Jimmy Eat World
9. Goodbyes - Jamison Parker
10. She's a Thief - Owen
11. Unorchestrated - Hey Mercedes
12. Untitled - I Can Make a Mess Like Nobody's Business
13. I'll Be Yr Bird - M. Ward
14. Such a Rush - Coldplay
15. Say Yes - Elliott Smith
16. Someday Soon - Doves
17. Are You a Dreamer? - Denison Witmer

I just want to jump into a pile of leaves!

Please vote

2006-11-07T02:29:00.000-05:00

What you have to believe to be a Republican today:

a.. Jesus loves you, and shares your hatred of the environment, homosexuals, and Hillary.

b.. Saddam was a good guy when Reagan armed him, a bad guy when Bush's daddy made war on him, a good guy when Cheney did business with him, and a bad guy when Bush needed a "we can't find Bin Laden" diversion.

c.. Trade with Cuba is wrong because the country is Communist, but trade with China and Vietnam is vital to a spirit of international harmony.

d.. The United States should get out of the United Nations, and our highest national priority is enforcing U.N. resolutions against Iran.

e.. A woman can't be trusted with decisions about her own body, but multi-national corporations can make decisions affecting all mankind without regulation.

f.. The best way to improve military morale is to praise the troops in speeches, while slashing veterans' benefits and combat pay.

g.. If condoms are kept out of schools, adolescents won't have sex.

h.. A good way to fight terrorism is to belittle our long-time allies, then demand their cooperation and money.

i.. Providing health care to all Iraqis is sound policy, but providing health care to all Americans is socialism. HMOs and insurance companies have the best interests of the public at heart.

j.. Global warming and tobacco's link to cancer are junk science, but creationism should be taught in schools.

k.. A president lying about an extra-marital affair is an impeachable offense, but a president lying to enlist support for a war in which thousands die is solid defense policy.

l.. Government should limit itself to the powers named in the Constitution, which include banning gay marriages and censoring the Internet.

m.. The public has a right to know about Hillary's cattle trades, but George Bush's driving and military records are none of our business.

n.. Being a drug addict is a moral failing and a crime, unless you're a conservative radio host. Then it's an illness and you need our prayers for your recovery.

o.. What Bill Clinton did in the 1960s is of vital national interest, but what Bush did in the '60s is irrelevant.

"When fascism comes to America, it will be wrapped in the flag and carrying the cross." - Sinclair Lewis, 1935

Pissed

2006-11-04T00:41:00.000-05:00

Earlier this week I experienced something very unpleasant: as I rounded the corner onto Clinton on my way home from work, I nearly walked into a spray of urine. As in PEE. Right on the sidewalk, not even on the curb or by a tree - just smack dab in the center of one of those concrete squares. I was so surprised I nearly peed myself.

I turned around to make sure that an animal wasn't coming after me for interrupting its piss (when I was very young, I walked too close to a dog that was going to the bathroom, and it bit me, so I'm always careful to avoid similar situations). You can imagine my surprise when I discovered it was not a dog, or even an animal, but a small child.

Actually, small isn't the word I'm looking for. The kid was young, but certainly past the toddler point - maybe seven or eight years old. And she was kind of hefty. A recess snack-stealer with her butt up in the air and her pants around her ankles. Even more disturbing was that some woman (I'm guessing the girl's mother) was holding her in a prime peeing position, actually allowing this nastiness to happen.

It gets better.

The next day, I walk home as usual, and there they are AGAIN: mom squatting on the ground, her kid's bare ass to the heavens. I couldn't believe it. The woman was speaking Chinese, so rather than waste my breath in English, I gave her my most judgmental look, staring her down until I reached the end of the street. She seemed genuinely confused, like it was perfectly normal to let your daughter pee ironically in front of chain restaurants.

I know that urine itself is actually sterile - yeah, I get it - but that doesn't mean it smells nice. Or that I want to see it flying around on my way home from work. Dis-gusting.

When men wore hats

2006-11-03T01:05:00.000-05:00

I have bad news.

It appears my love life peaked in high school.

I had it good back then, back when guys still picked me up. Nothing kills nervous excitement like having to travel a half hour just to wait at a no name-bar while your "date" finishes pregaming with his buddies. Or better yet, having to walk to their apartment from the subway in sub-zero weather because his weed guy is running late.

I miss those days. Blackberries didn't interrupt deep conversations, and cell phones were used with tact. Guys canceled 50% less. We made plans, ones that weren't permeated with alcohol, and had good, clean fun. Bowling, ice skating, making dinner, going out for ice cream, apple picking - what I wouldn't do for a change. Don't get me wrong, I love drinking and hooking up as much as the next horny bastard, but if that's all it's ever going to be, then forget it. Are there any men out there with at least an ounce of creativity left in their teeny little brains? Is romance DEAD?

My last REAL DATE...was in 2001. That is sad! I am not a troll or a lizard-girl, I am a fun-loving little blonde thing with a sharp wit and good habits! I am fast becoming frustrated.

I'll let you know when I purchase my first cat.

Halloween-y

2006-11-01T16:46:00.000-05:00

Last night was Halloween. I ate no candy, wore no costume, and attended no parties. Definitely the most uneventful Halloween I have ever experienced.

It wasn't entirely my fault. I had been scheming for months that this would be the year I would be the ultimate flapper - finally get the dress altered, professional finger curls, flask (any excuse to own a flask!), the whole she-bang. Then, not two weeks ago, I chipped a tooth and (reluctantly) dropped $1,000 in dental fees. It was the second time in my life I have cried over money (the first was for my current apartment, but that's another story). Basically, what little disposable income I had going for me became completely nonexistent.

And I was tired, so it worked out.

I made it 3/4 of the way through The Shining before passing out at 10:30. I woke up right when Wendy goes over to Jack's typewriter and finds that he has only written thousands of pages of "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy". It is the scariest part of the movie. Something about those words over and over...

I decided to just let myself enjoy a normal sleep cycle for once, and I did get a good four hours in - until my phone rang. I barely had a chance to muster up a "what the fuck?" before the caller hung up. No harm done, I fell asleep once more. Five minutes later, the same thing happened, and five minutes after that, again. When my phone rang a fourth time, I was wide awake and greeted them with a few very unladylike words I reserve for only the choicest of occasions.

The voice on the other end finally spoke, whimpering about having no place to go that night. It was my friend's roommate, and unfortunately, the THIRD night he had woken me from a deep sleep. I barely know the guy, except through my friend, and he has called me on three separate occasions, each time needing a place to crash. Bizarre, right? The first time I caved in because he forgot his keys, and my friend was not home to let him in, but he was so annoying I had to kick him out after just an hour.

And even though I won my case and was free to go back to sleep, I was so ticked off, I wasn't tired any longer, and stayed up the rest of the night.

This is now why it feels like my eyes are going to fall out of my head.

Warm and cuddly

2006-10-30T11:41:00.000-05:00

Normally, I hate Monday mornings. From the very moment I hear the alarm go off, my mind is filled with violent, ugly thoughts - especially in the winter when I wake up shivering, can't find my slippers and have to endure an ice cold floor all the way to the bathroom.

But for some reason, I woke up today, well before my alarm clock, my covers still taut under my chin. I hopped into my slippers, wrapped myself in my robe and favorite blanket, and used the extra time to enjoy a steaming cup of oatmeal instead of a crappy breakfast bar. Mmm, it would have been nice to hole up in my apartment for the entire afternoon instead of stare at a computer monitor in a drafty office, but that was just not in the cards.

I had a successful weekend, but I ruined a pair of shoes and possibly a dress. Em and I had opera tickets for Friday night, so we decided to get all gussied up for the occasion. Naturally, the moment we stepped outside after the show there was an immediate downpour, and naturally, our hottt outfits did not include umbrellas. The long black velvet number I was wearing magically expanded in the wetness, causing me to fall over the 343343535 other people trying to get cabs and into puddles. When we finally did find a taxi, the crazy behind the wheel wanted $60 to take us downtown! I almost got in a fight.

And of course, on the way to the train, one of my heels got stuck in subway grating. Now, I have secretly wanted this to happen to me ever since I saw the unfortunate wedding planner movie with J. Lo., but it turned out to be a lot less romantic. No Matthew McConaug-HEY, and I'm a little bit certain I flashed someone in the process. At least I expanded my cultural horizons that evening, right?

McConaug-HEY!!

Hello?

2006-10-27T12:36:00.000-04:00

Somebody stole my blog!

Last night: blog.

This morning: no blog.

Now, how do you explain that?

This only confirms my underlying fear of modern technology; while it amazes me, I am secretly convinced it is all a small part of a greater, evil scheme. I hate my cell phone not only because it rings incessantly, but because one day it will explode while I am in mid-conversation. I hate my camera because it is tiny and I lose it. I hate my laptop because it makes me feel guilty for not bringing it along to do work whenever I leave my apartment. And I hate the Internet because it eats a year's worth of blogs.

But I can't live without any of it.

Sigh. Well, I suppose I shall just pick up where I left off...

Keep yer eyes peeled.