Can you remember what you did every year for New Year's? I think I have a pretty good memory for it:
2007 I went to Matt's brother's party and then Mara's house. I took the F train home at 6 AM.
2006 I had dinner at Anna's but left before the cops came to go to the party Charlie was having at his old apartment, and we went to Happy Endings afterwards and then Charlie blacked out and lost his cell phone in a cab and I took the 1 train home at 5 AM.
2005 I was sick, I had to fly to San Francisco to stay with my sister N. in the W San Francisco and as soon as I landed I found out that my grandmother had died. I had to start taking antibiotics the next day because the plane had caused a sinus infection.
2004 Mike came to Los Angeles to help me move to Santa Cruz, and then he got a ride back down to L.A. with my new housemate and my parents, brother and I went to Monterey and ate Italian food.
2003 I was going to San Francisco to visit Kelly but my car broke down on the Grapevine and my brother had to come pick me up in Valencia. He drove me back to Los Angeles, and we ate at the Poquito Mas in Studio City (which he thought was the only Poquito Mas -- it was on that day I told him it was a chain) and then he dropped me off at home and went to a party. I stayed home and watched a "Sex and the City" marathon.
2002 I finally passed my driving test that afternoon, and then I watched "Darren's Dance Grooves" with some of my Christian girl neighbors in Walnut Creek, and then we had a slumber party.
2001 For my first post-age 21 NYE, my sisters and I played Scrabble and went to see "O Brother Where Art Thou" at BAM. I slept over at N's house afterwards.
2000 Brian and I went to a party at Lesa and Josh's house, except Lesa and Josh were away, and Jeremy and Robby were housesitting. At the time we knew lots of people who had just moved to New York from Santa Fe and they were all there, being annoying arty southwesterners. Robby and I were worried that the world would end at midnight but when it didn't, he passed out in the closet. The party got out of bounds, aka it was a night of bad behavior and disillusionment.
1999 [I just remembered this] I was on a train, going from Chicago to San Francisco, with Brian. The train stopped for an hour in Denver and we walked through Historical Downtown Denver to find a wine store that would sell us some champagne. I remember being like, "I'll do the talking" because I was nervous that Brian would somehow louse up the whole deal and they'd ask us for ID if he got too involved. It worked out! Hmm... maybe that one was actually kind of magical.
Anyway, this year my mom is in the hospital and I have tons of work to do and it doesn't even feel wintery outside. But I'm convinced that New Year's Eve is not as downward spirally as it seems. I am flying to Buffalo on Sunday and then driving to Canada and I hope that there are more restaurants open in Toronto on New Year's Day than there were on Canadian Thanksgiving! But in case there aren't, I will be bringing Our Mutual Friend with me. Let me tell you, I'm engrossed, and I have 732 pages to go.
Friday, December 28, 2007
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Bros bros bros
On account of Christmas being canceled, Secret Santa was a bust this year, but my brother lives in Los Angeles so he'd already mailed his presents! To me! I hope his Secret Santa sent him something really good, because he got me the La Jetee/Sans Soleil Criterion DVD, a Maybelle Carter CD, and slippers. Don't worry though, even if Santa didn't come through for him, it's his birthday on the 27th and I got him a rad present of the Cassavetes Criterion box set and a mix CD! We are so alike, it's almost like we're related, you know?
Last night I went to Max Fish with my friend Andrew. Max Fish was packed, full of lots of dudes that Andrew is friends with and some girls that I am friends with and it was a pretty good scene especially considering it was Christmas, but I was a little bit bummed in general yesterday and it turned into one of those nights where time just passes by and you aren't sure what you were doing. Watching someone play Pirates of the Caribbean pinball? Talking about California, subway lines, love and squirrels?
Late in the night I put a bunch of songs on the jukebox, including this B-52s song "Strobe Light" that was one of my younger-years favorites. When the song came on Andrew was like, "I hate the B-52s" and some guy said, "the B-52s are kind of like the Cramps. If you have the Cramps, you don't need the B-52s." He was quiet for a minute and then he was like, "Actually, it's probably better that you like the B-52s. If I had a little sister, I wouldn't want her to listen to the Cramps."
Last night I went to Max Fish with my friend Andrew. Max Fish was packed, full of lots of dudes that Andrew is friends with and some girls that I am friends with and it was a pretty good scene especially considering it was Christmas, but I was a little bit bummed in general yesterday and it turned into one of those nights where time just passes by and you aren't sure what you were doing. Watching someone play Pirates of the Caribbean pinball? Talking about California, subway lines, love and squirrels?
Late in the night I put a bunch of songs on the jukebox, including this B-52s song "Strobe Light" that was one of my younger-years favorites. When the song came on Andrew was like, "I hate the B-52s" and some guy said, "the B-52s are kind of like the Cramps. If you have the Cramps, you don't need the B-52s." He was quiet for a minute and then he was like, "Actually, it's probably better that you like the B-52s. If I had a little sister, I wouldn't want her to listen to the Cramps."
Monday, December 24, 2007
Everyone will leave at exactly the same time
Days like this, Times Like These, all I want to do is get in my car and drive to the mall. Drive to the Grove, to be exact, and park on the roof and look at the 360 degree panorama of Los Angeles (that no one looks at because no one likes to park on the roof) and then go shopping until I feel bad about how much money I've spent instead of the really sad stuff.
I know it's easy to make fun of, but sometimes the plastic things are the only ones that work. I think it's the smells that calm me down: the rubber and aerosol and burnt towels of the chain gym I go to, the new-clothes and carpet of shopping. And the bright lights, and the boring music. The same everywhere, always what you expect.
Someone sent me one of those "quiz requests" on facebook, and the quiz was called "Things You Wish You Had More Of." I thought: sweaters, tights, hair conditioner, perfume, headphones for my iPod, earrings. It turned out to be about personal qualities, intangibles: beauty, fame, creativity, intelligence. I thought, maybe I am unusual because all I want are some new CDs. Printer ink. Liquid eyeliner, strapless bra, gel pens. I don't care about athleticism or friends or fame or intelligence, I just want to be alone with shelves of tomato sauce, racks of dresses, cases of flax oil supplements and boxes of ballet flats. The most intangible thing I want more of is conveniently-timed spin classes.
Today I went to Banana Republic and tried on all the party dresses. It was quiet, most people had finished shopping I guess, and I spent lots of money. I went to Whole Foods afterwards. They were closing at 6:00, but when it got to be 6:00 there were still dozens of people shopping, including me. Whole Foods employees started walking around saying, "You better get in line, or the registers will be closed!" So I hurried and got on line, even though I was having trouble deciding on some vitamins. But then there was an announcement over the loudspeaker: We had 20 minutes more to shop. I felt cheated! I will just say it, because I'm in favor of honesty: it was hard for me to care about the Whole Foods employees who wanted to get home to their families.
My sister N. called me while I was on line. We went to see "Juno" last night, after our family dinner plan got canceled. She was just checking to see if I was okay, she said. She's going to visit her mom in the morning but she invited me over tonight to listen to the Rihanna CD she just bought.
I came home and rushed to the gym, but they were closing even earlier than they had claimed they'd be closing, so I only had like 10 minutes to work out. Rip-off! When I left, the girl at the front desk said "Happy holidays!" I think that's such a weird thing to say on Christmas Eve, isn't it? Like, obviously it's trying to be inclusive of people who don't celebrate Christmas, but if you don't celebrate Christmas, why would you care?
I know it's easy to make fun of, but sometimes the plastic things are the only ones that work. I think it's the smells that calm me down: the rubber and aerosol and burnt towels of the chain gym I go to, the new-clothes and carpet of shopping. And the bright lights, and the boring music. The same everywhere, always what you expect.
Someone sent me one of those "quiz requests" on facebook, and the quiz was called "Things You Wish You Had More Of." I thought: sweaters, tights, hair conditioner, perfume, headphones for my iPod, earrings. It turned out to be about personal qualities, intangibles: beauty, fame, creativity, intelligence. I thought, maybe I am unusual because all I want are some new CDs. Printer ink. Liquid eyeliner, strapless bra, gel pens. I don't care about athleticism or friends or fame or intelligence, I just want to be alone with shelves of tomato sauce, racks of dresses, cases of flax oil supplements and boxes of ballet flats. The most intangible thing I want more of is conveniently-timed spin classes.
Today I went to Banana Republic and tried on all the party dresses. It was quiet, most people had finished shopping I guess, and I spent lots of money. I went to Whole Foods afterwards. They were closing at 6:00, but when it got to be 6:00 there were still dozens of people shopping, including me. Whole Foods employees started walking around saying, "You better get in line, or the registers will be closed!" So I hurried and got on line, even though I was having trouble deciding on some vitamins. But then there was an announcement over the loudspeaker: We had 20 minutes more to shop. I felt cheated! I will just say it, because I'm in favor of honesty: it was hard for me to care about the Whole Foods employees who wanted to get home to their families.
My sister N. called me while I was on line. We went to see "Juno" last night, after our family dinner plan got canceled. She was just checking to see if I was okay, she said. She's going to visit her mom in the morning but she invited me over tonight to listen to the Rihanna CD she just bought.
I came home and rushed to the gym, but they were closing even earlier than they had claimed they'd be closing, so I only had like 10 minutes to work out. Rip-off! When I left, the girl at the front desk said "Happy holidays!" I think that's such a weird thing to say on Christmas Eve, isn't it? Like, obviously it's trying to be inclusive of people who don't celebrate Christmas, but if you don't celebrate Christmas, why would you care?
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
The secret clue
I am still kind of sick but this morning I feel nauseous for a whole different reason: a few years ago I was asked to submit a piece of writing for publication in NYC-based magazine that mostly publishes visual art -- you know, photos, drawings, and 2-d installations -- but was planning a small fiction section. Getting asked to submit to something is kind of an ego boost, but it's also freaky: if my story turns out to be some kind of monstrous little creature, will they feel (more) obligated to accept it because they feel responsible for its existence? Is this just paving the way for some day in the future when I won't care if I'm making terrible work, because my ego will be so big?
So, I wrote the story and sent it in. Two years ago. Then, the magazine started to have some publication delays, which was frustrating at first but then became a relief. I knew, when I was writing the story, that it was inspired by autobiography -- someone who read it described it as auto-fan fiction, which has a narcissistic suggestion that I like -- but not until later did it occur to me that among the people who'd be receiving free copies of this magazine in the mail when it eventually came out were the ex-friend and ex-boyfriend who were the (veiled, thinly) inspirations for the story itself -- not in some lame and naive character-to-person correspondence way, just in terms of the story itself.
I guess I get so into the mode of thinking that everything can be inspiration for writing that I forget the danger: when other people recognize themselves, they also recognize me and realize something about me, about the things I hold on to, even about the things I never bothered to tell them.
Anyway, as much as I like to pretend I am, I'm not narcissistic enough to think anyone would be sure to notice my short story in a 300+ page magazine, or even 100% definitely recognize themselves in my writing -- I mean, people always just think what they want to anyway, right? I guess all I hope is that my story is good and that there are no weird editorial changes and that the community is not scandalized. I guess I will open this when I get home tonight.
So, I wrote the story and sent it in. Two years ago. Then, the magazine started to have some publication delays, which was frustrating at first but then became a relief. I knew, when I was writing the story, that it was inspired by autobiography -- someone who read it described it as auto-fan fiction, which has a narcissistic suggestion that I like -- but not until later did it occur to me that among the people who'd be receiving free copies of this magazine in the mail when it eventually came out were the ex-friend and ex-boyfriend who were the (veiled, thinly) inspirations for the story itself -- not in some lame and naive character-to-person correspondence way, just in terms of the story itself.
I guess I get so into the mode of thinking that everything can be inspiration for writing that I forget the danger: when other people recognize themselves, they also recognize me and realize something about me, about the things I hold on to, even about the things I never bothered to tell them.
Anyway, as much as I like to pretend I am, I'm not narcissistic enough to think anyone would be sure to notice my short story in a 300+ page magazine, or even 100% definitely recognize themselves in my writing -- I mean, people always just think what they want to anyway, right? I guess all I hope is that my story is good and that there are no weird editorial changes and that the community is not scandalized. I guess I will open this when I get home tonight.
Monday, December 17, 2007
Causes/effect
On Thursday I went to a terrible class at the gym called "Weigh Hard Cardio." It was hard and boring. Then I took Mike, Belinda, and Belinda's fiance Aengus to that Pinter play "The Homecoming" -- a present from my dad. During the break Mike saw a guy helping his blind friend pee. I mean, he saw their feet in the stall. He said it was "intimate and nice." Creepy! Then Aengus heard someone say, "When I saw 'Lars and the Real Girl,' I thought: MUSICAL."
On Friday we moved a bunch of stuff to my new apartment and then I took a yoga class. I couldn't really sleep after that, so I stayed up all night packing. On Saturday I went to the library and graded papers at the coffee shop that uses sour cream as salad dressing. For some reason the only food they had was asparagus soup and banana bread, so that's all I ate on Saturday. I stayed up all night on Saturday again.
On Sunday we moved the rest of my stuff and I slipped in the sleet and fell on my butt on the stairs. Then I went uptown to meet the guy who's subletting my apartment. He seemed really lonely -- he is an 30-something who just moved here for school from California, and he seems to both (a) not know anyone and (b) not be capable of entertaining himself. I had told him I was in school and after about a half an hour of awkward "when can I leave" small talk, he was like, "wait, are you in graduate school?" I guess it's flattering, but I sometimes get annoyed when people think I'm an undergraduate! I mean, I do drink lots of water, but I don't think I look that young. (I guess it's lucky that my subletter thinks I'm adorable though -- hopefully this means he won't mind being exploited! Just kidding.)
I came home and made the bed (well, mattress -- I'm not getting my bed frame delivered til later in the week), finished grading all the Film Theory papers and exams, because we had a grading meeting scheduled for this morning, and then I fell asleep surrounded by boxes. This morning I woke up feeling like that corpse in Eastern Promises that washes up on the shore of the Thames. Seriously, I almost had to sit down on the floor of the subway, and then when I got off the subway, I had to sit on a bench on the platform for a few minutes before I could walk to the meeting.
The meeting was good -- the professor just got back from an awards show in China, and showed us tons of pictures -- and then afterwards I went to the Target right by my new place to buy toilet paper and slippers. I was still feeling pretty gross, so I sat down in the "Target Cafe" (which is also a Starbucks) for a little while after I shopped. After a minute, I realized something: everyone around me was retarded. Literally, Target was full of retarded adults.
I walked home and it was so windy. I swear, I have never felt such winds. I got home, put on my slippers, and then fell asleep for the next five hours. When I woke up I was all fevery and confused, and I felt like my entire body was going to fall off. Liza offered to come over and punch me in the face, but I declined because I couldn't imagine getting up to buzz her in. Finally, like an hour later, I forced myself to get up and take some advil and sudafed. I also found vitamin C and some forgotten zinc lozenges in one of my boxes, and then I started to feel better and one of my housemates came home and we watched two hours of "Scrubs" and I ordered Chinese noodles. Now I'm going to sleep.
On Friday we moved a bunch of stuff to my new apartment and then I took a yoga class. I couldn't really sleep after that, so I stayed up all night packing. On Saturday I went to the library and graded papers at the coffee shop that uses sour cream as salad dressing. For some reason the only food they had was asparagus soup and banana bread, so that's all I ate on Saturday. I stayed up all night on Saturday again.
On Sunday we moved the rest of my stuff and I slipped in the sleet and fell on my butt on the stairs. Then I went uptown to meet the guy who's subletting my apartment. He seemed really lonely -- he is an 30-something who just moved here for school from California, and he seems to both (a) not know anyone and (b) not be capable of entertaining himself. I had told him I was in school and after about a half an hour of awkward "when can I leave" small talk, he was like, "wait, are you in graduate school?" I guess it's flattering, but I sometimes get annoyed when people think I'm an undergraduate! I mean, I do drink lots of water, but I don't think I look that young. (I guess it's lucky that my subletter thinks I'm adorable though -- hopefully this means he won't mind being exploited! Just kidding.)
I came home and made the bed (well, mattress -- I'm not getting my bed frame delivered til later in the week), finished grading all the Film Theory papers and exams, because we had a grading meeting scheduled for this morning, and then I fell asleep surrounded by boxes. This morning I woke up feeling like that corpse in Eastern Promises that washes up on the shore of the Thames. Seriously, I almost had to sit down on the floor of the subway, and then when I got off the subway, I had to sit on a bench on the platform for a few minutes before I could walk to the meeting.
The meeting was good -- the professor just got back from an awards show in China, and showed us tons of pictures -- and then afterwards I went to the Target right by my new place to buy toilet paper and slippers. I was still feeling pretty gross, so I sat down in the "Target Cafe" (which is also a Starbucks) for a little while after I shopped. After a minute, I realized something: everyone around me was retarded. Literally, Target was full of retarded adults.
I walked home and it was so windy. I swear, I have never felt such winds. I got home, put on my slippers, and then fell asleep for the next five hours. When I woke up I was all fevery and confused, and I felt like my entire body was going to fall off. Liza offered to come over and punch me in the face, but I declined because I couldn't imagine getting up to buzz her in. Finally, like an hour later, I forced myself to get up and take some advil and sudafed. I also found vitamin C and some forgotten zinc lozenges in one of my boxes, and then I started to feel better and one of my housemates came home and we watched two hours of "Scrubs" and I ordered Chinese noodles. Now I'm going to sleep.
Friday, December 14, 2007
Woman of mysteries?
I had a sexy dream about Elisa from "Project Runway." Let me tell you, she was relentless.
I totally blame Olivia for this -- not in a lesbian way though, don't worry, pals!
I totally blame Olivia for this -- not in a lesbian way though, don't worry, pals!
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
If I'm paying for a llama I want to see that llama.
Today was the last day of classes for the semester -- now I just have to finish some projects and grade a bunch of other ones. This leaves me time to think about... the holidays.
My family is a constant source of Christmas drama. We used to play Scrabble, but then one time my brother told my sister N. that she was taking too long to make a play, she thought he was antagonizing her and stormed off, and they didn't talk for almost a year!
We can't really have conversations about products or food, because my sister E. is active in the politics of veganism and boycotting China and she gets worked up.
My mother got tired of cooking every year, so she started getting dinner catered. Then last year N. decided she wanted to host, and she freaked out that she hadn't made enough food, decided to make brussels sprouts and burnt them -- three fire trucks came! My mother had to finish cooking.
Everyone used to get really creative about wrapping presents, until we started doing Secret Santa because E. wanted more money left over to donate to various causes (homeless cats, farm families in Peru, etc.). But then last year Secret Santa got kind of embarrassingly elaborate (for example, I got art), and that was the end of that.
This year we have a $30 present limit and we're eating at a restaurant in Brooklyn. If this was a t.v. show, my parents would get some cute foster children.
Wait, here's a good story: yesterday I was driving to Brooklyn with my dad. I was like, "I've never lived in Brooklyn before." He said, "Well, how does that make you feel?" I said, "I don't know. I think I just like saying 'I've never lived in Brooklyn before.'" Then we saw a big Grinch balloon hanging from someone's window. My dad said, "What is that, an alligator dressed as Santa?"
My family is a constant source of Christmas drama. We used to play Scrabble, but then one time my brother told my sister N. that she was taking too long to make a play, she thought he was antagonizing her and stormed off, and they didn't talk for almost a year!
We can't really have conversations about products or food, because my sister E. is active in the politics of veganism and boycotting China and she gets worked up.
My mother got tired of cooking every year, so she started getting dinner catered. Then last year N. decided she wanted to host, and she freaked out that she hadn't made enough food, decided to make brussels sprouts and burnt them -- three fire trucks came! My mother had to finish cooking.
Everyone used to get really creative about wrapping presents, until we started doing Secret Santa because E. wanted more money left over to donate to various causes (homeless cats, farm families in Peru, etc.). But then last year Secret Santa got kind of embarrassingly elaborate (for example, I got art), and that was the end of that.
This year we have a $30 present limit and we're eating at a restaurant in Brooklyn. If this was a t.v. show, my parents would get some cute foster children.
Wait, here's a good story: yesterday I was driving to Brooklyn with my dad. I was like, "I've never lived in Brooklyn before." He said, "Well, how does that make you feel?" I said, "I don't know. I think I just like saying 'I've never lived in Brooklyn before.'" Then we saw a big Grinch balloon hanging from someone's window. My dad said, "What is that, an alligator dressed as Santa?"
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
Things to do in New York when you wish you were in Miami
I saw Atonement yesterday and it was good. Keira Knightley, she sure is a shiner. A real shiner. And that Dunkirk Beach long tracking shot scene? Pretty nice, pretty pretty nice. Whoa.
Here is what else I am looking forward to this weekend:
In other news, I am super creeped-out by the trailers for Awake, and I don't understand how the same Chia Pet commercials that have been airing every Christmas since Newmark & Lewis and Nobody Beats the Wiz and D'Agostino's had the best jingles on TV (AKA in 1987) could still exist. Someone should just leave the master tape in the back of a cab!
Here is what else I am looking forward to this weekend:
- The Golden Compass !!!
- Bread & Puppet Circus's The Divine Reality Comedy
- Latkes with my parents
- Juno
- Sleeping in my new apartment
- Maybe Margot at the Wedding -- everyone seems to hate it but I bet I will "relate"
- More snow
In other news, I am super creeped-out by the trailers for Awake, and I don't understand how the same Chia Pet commercials that have been airing every Christmas since Newmark & Lewis and Nobody Beats the Wiz and D'Agostino's had the best jingles on TV (AKA in 1987) could still exist. Someone should just leave the master tape in the back of a cab!
Saturday, December 1, 2007
Possible cautionaries
I'm declaring a hiatus on fun until I finish this paper draft I'm supposed to be working on and get rid of at least 25 pounds (combined) of clothing, accessories and papers.
Last night when I came home at 5:15 AM, the doorman on duty told me he's taking pictures of "everybody" in front of our lobby Christmas tree and asked if he could take mine. I have found him sketchy ever since he invited me to a Halloween party, and I'm worried that he thinks I have some crazy lifestyle since I regularly come home super-late, but I didn't want to be rude so I said yes. Am I going to get sold into white slavery now?? I was wearing a giant ski parka with a furry hood, so hopefully there just won't be any buyers.
Today I was working at the library and when it closed I left to eat a salad at Chipotle. These girls who were sitting at the table next to me were having a whole conversation about Serena van der Woodsen and cupcakes from Sprinkles. I don't know either. One of them was on line right behind me as I ordered my salad, so I knew she was eating a burrito with chicken, extra rice, sour cream and guacamole and that she didn't say "please" or "thank you."
After I left Chipotle, I bought some celery and watermelon and came home.
Last night when I came home at 5:15 AM, the doorman on duty told me he's taking pictures of "everybody" in front of our lobby Christmas tree and asked if he could take mine. I have found him sketchy ever since he invited me to a Halloween party, and I'm worried that he thinks I have some crazy lifestyle since I regularly come home super-late, but I didn't want to be rude so I said yes. Am I going to get sold into white slavery now?? I was wearing a giant ski parka with a furry hood, so hopefully there just won't be any buyers.
Today I was working at the library and when it closed I left to eat a salad at Chipotle. These girls who were sitting at the table next to me were having a whole conversation about Serena van der Woodsen and cupcakes from Sprinkles. I don't know either. One of them was on line right behind me as I ordered my salad, so I knew she was eating a burrito with chicken, extra rice, sour cream and guacamole and that she didn't say "please" or "thank you."
After I left Chipotle, I bought some celery and watermelon and came home.
Monday, November 26, 2007
Well that's the one that's not a vacation
Oh, did I mention that I'm moving? It's all kind of a messy and crazy sitch right now, because I'm subletting my old apartment and moving and finishing up the semester all at once. But here's what's good about my new apartment:
Anyway, I was looking for "That's So Raven" music videos, but I don't think TSR fans are as technologically advanced as VMars fans, because the most intriguing one I found was set to "Defying Gravity" from Wicked. I love Idina Menzel as much as the next person, but that's just not a good combo. This is better:
- My roommates are both "creative types."
- Our building has a stoop.
- I get my own bathroom, which has blue tiled walls.
- It's right next to the Brooklyn Academy of Music.
- It's right next to Target.
- It's right next to the LIRR, with AirTrain connection to JFK! What a money saver.
- It's not Morningside Heights.
- It's cheaper than where I live now.
- It's near practically every subway, including the G, which means it'll be easy to visit people in Carroll Gardens and Williamsburg.
- It has a fireplace.
- The landlord has the same name as my dad.
- My bedroom window has an actual view, not just a view into the windows of another person's apartment.
- I have a babysitting job lined up! Weird.
Anyway, I was looking for "That's So Raven" music videos, but I don't think TSR fans are as technologically advanced as VMars fans, because the most intriguing one I found was set to "Defying Gravity" from Wicked. I love Idina Menzel as much as the next person, but that's just not a good combo. This is better:
Sunday, November 25, 2007
In case you were wondering...
Molly had a rad Thanksgiving dinner. There was more food than could fit in one photo. I made the salad in the blue bowl and also the brussels sprouts pictured at rear. It was a real who's who.
We watched this.
Oh no! Not Laura Palmer!
I forgot my cell phone at home so Liza and I had to do Oxygen on-demand rokes. 
Then I met up with these dudes. We had brunch across from where Karen and I used to get the school bus. We all drank too much coffee. Mariko almost ordered a panini. Here we are after brunch, back for a visit to the rough streets that raised us. 
Karen lives in Manitoba now! And that is not an African nation, FYI. 
But I am the only one of us who knows how to drive.
Friday, November 16, 2007
No fake hand?
One of my students asked me to give a presentation to a bunch of high school juniors about "the difference between writing in high school and college." I really have no idea what that means. I asked Liza for help with this right when this kid invited me to do this, and she told me something but we were drunk and now I can't remember what she said. So today I googled "high school writing college writing" and found that I am not the only person to have pondered this question, thank goodness.
In honor of this, here is more "best of my google search toolbar":
fake knee
famous jews andy warhol [it's a real art project, I swear!]
fenestration [is there such a thing?]
figueroa st, los angeles
flights to cuba
frank o'hara
french anagram
ways of knowing
weird war
what is a high angle
what is a script supervisor
what is the meaning of life
willowy
worldly
And here are some boring pictures.
I have a total fear of heights, although I try to keep it to myself, so taking this picture out my bathroom window was slightly freaky.
It's symbolic.
In honor of this, here is more "best of my google search toolbar":
fake knee
famous jews andy warhol [it's a real art project, I swear!]
fenestration [is there such a thing?]
figueroa st, los angeles
flights to cuba
frank o'hara
french anagram
ways of knowing
weird war
what is a high angle
what is a script supervisor
what is the meaning of life
willowy
worldly
And here are some boring pictures.
I have a total fear of heights, although I try to keep it to myself, so taking this picture out my bathroom window was slightly freaky.
It's symbolic.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
The experiment has evolved
I only watched three episodes anyway, but did anyone else totally lose interest in "Beauty and the Geek" after Erin and Jesse got eliminated? They were just the heart of that show. The heart and soul!
I know what you need to work on
I'm totally lazy so here are some of my fave emails JUST FROM TODAY ONLY. Wild life, wild wild life.
1.
From: Bla Blablabla@myschool.edu
To: manypeople@myschool.edu
Subject: In the Name of Identity
Hi all -
A copy of Amin Maalouf's "In the Name of Identity" and a couple of
papers have been sitting mysteriously in my box for weeks, if anyone
is looking for them.
Best,
Bla Blablabla
2.
From: somekid@myschool.edu
To: me
Subject: Postpone meeting
Is there anyway to postpone the meeting until tomorrow sometime so I
can revise my draft a few more times, so I truely know what I need to
work on?
1.
From: Bla Blablabla@myschool.edu
To: manypeople@myschool.edu
Subject: In the Name of Identity
Hi all -
A copy of Amin Maalouf's "In the Name of Identity" and a couple of
papers have been sitting mysteriously in my box for weeks, if anyone
is looking for them.
Best,
Bla Blablabla
2.
From: somekid@myschool.edu
To: me
Subject: Postpone meeting
Is there anyway to postpone the meeting until tomorrow sometime so I
can revise my draft a few more times, so I truely know what I need to
work on?
Monday, November 12, 2007
Hateration (interlude)
Oh man. today I had the worst meeting ever with one of my students. I know I should not be discussing these matters in a semi-public zone but I can't help it! I basically forced this student to meet with me, because she never participates in class, she never comes to my office hours, and when I have the students do in-class writing she writes two sentences and then just sits there.
I've had shy students before. But this girl, she isn't shy -- she just doesn't care. She does not care. I said to her, "your work suggests that you aren't very invested in this class. Is that the case?" She just shrugged. I said, "your lack of participation is ultimately going to effect your grade." She shrugged again.
I just don't understand how you can get to be 18 or 19 years old and not know when to fake it. I don't mean "fake it" like the way that we're all "performing identity" everyday, I mean fake interest, fake a smile, fake a "what I want to work on this semester" paragraph. Just pretend you're something more than an overprivileged, overeducated waste of space. I bet the students at LACC or Erie Community College know how to fake it pretty well -- and they might even be psyched to take a class at an Ivy League school, who knows -- so why can't you?
I've had shy students before. But this girl, she isn't shy -- she just doesn't care. She does not care. I said to her, "your work suggests that you aren't very invested in this class. Is that the case?" She just shrugged. I said, "your lack of participation is ultimately going to effect your grade." She shrugged again.
I just don't understand how you can get to be 18 or 19 years old and not know when to fake it. I don't mean "fake it" like the way that we're all "performing identity" everyday, I mean fake interest, fake a smile, fake a "what I want to work on this semester" paragraph. Just pretend you're something more than an overprivileged, overeducated waste of space. I bet the students at LACC or Erie Community College know how to fake it pretty well -- and they might even be psyched to take a class at an Ivy League school, who knows -- so why can't you?
Tylenol Cold is great
Today I have to decide what time I'm teaching next semester. This semester I had big plans for a Monday-Wednesday-only schedule, imagining that I would have tons of fun things to do every Thursday through Sunday, but I ended up with classes starting at 10 AM Monday and ending at 6 PM Thursday -- the least luxurious graduate student program ever. Next semester I'm taking two classes: Directing IV, and Melodrama. I think. Who knows, really, right? But that's a Monday and a Thursday again! Why does this keep happening? I guess I could teach Monday and Wednesday mornings, or Tuesday and Thursday nights. But I hate teaching on Tuesdays and Thursdays! It makes the week seem longer. Wah wah wah.
Anyway, I'm trying to focus more on school and less on hanging out, although school isn't really making such a good case for itself. Maybe if I had my own study carrel... But now that it's the pumpkin-y time of year, hanging out seems magical and interesting! This is the best time of year for my hair, which puts me in a good mood, and everyone looks so great in their scarves and jackets. Even "Linus and Lucy" played on the radio in a bakery fills me with happy nostalgia and makes me want to see friends. I even got one of those peppermint mochas the other day! And I've been throwing down the extra dollar for name-brand whiskey lately, although that's probably mostly due to the influence of others -- I don't know if I can really taste the difference! Also, I've been thinking of reading Eat Pray Love. I've had it on my shelf since my birthday! I'm pretty much done listening to Paul Simon and Morrissey for the time being. Lately I've been listening to Beyonce and the Knife and Joni Mitchell, walking around and pretending I'm in an hour-long ensemble drama... it's always the season finale, and it's a cliff-hanger!
Anyway, I'm trying to focus more on school and less on hanging out, although school isn't really making such a good case for itself. Maybe if I had my own study carrel... But now that it's the pumpkin-y time of year, hanging out seems magical and interesting! This is the best time of year for my hair, which puts me in a good mood, and everyone looks so great in their scarves and jackets. Even "Linus and Lucy" played on the radio in a bakery fills me with happy nostalgia and makes me want to see friends. I even got one of those peppermint mochas the other day! And I've been throwing down the extra dollar for name-brand whiskey lately, although that's probably mostly due to the influence of others -- I don't know if I can really taste the difference! Also, I've been thinking of reading Eat Pray Love. I've had it on my shelf since my birthday! I'm pretty much done listening to Paul Simon and Morrissey for the time being. Lately I've been listening to Beyonce and the Knife and Joni Mitchell, walking around and pretending I'm in an hour-long ensemble drama... it's always the season finale, and it's a cliff-hanger!
on a mission
At the end of my first year in college I was the other woman in a best-friend triangle. Courtney, my new BFF, asked her former BFF Barbara to move out of the apartment they shared so I could move in. 325A Walnut Ave. was a 1 bedroom apartment. Courtney and I went to bed at the same time every night and slept in two little twin beds -- when one of us had a boy over it was always awkward, but that's another story. When I first moved in there were all these used tissues under the twin bed formerly slept-in by Barbara. Courtney reminded me that they were left-overs from Barbara's recent performance art piece in which she saved tissues from when she had a cold, chewed them up, and molded the wet paper into nose-shaped sculptures.
My point is, I'm sick! This rarely happens, but it's really true. Today I went to the gym and I started hallucinating while I was doing cardio -- I guess maybe I was oxygen-deprived, or just tired. Here's what I hallucinated: that it would be a good idea to make a video montage of the movie "Half Nelson" set to the song "Me and Mia" by Ted Leo. I actually listened to the song a couple times in a row, and I guess I was planning the montage in my head even though I can't remember actual scenes from the movie.
That's what makes it a "hallucination," rather than just an "idea."
My point is, I'm sick! This rarely happens, but it's really true. Today I went to the gym and I started hallucinating while I was doing cardio -- I guess maybe I was oxygen-deprived, or just tired. Here's what I hallucinated: that it would be a good idea to make a video montage of the movie "Half Nelson" set to the song "Me and Mia" by Ted Leo. I actually listened to the song a couple times in a row, and I guess I was planning the montage in my head even though I can't remember actual scenes from the movie.
That's what makes it a "hallucination," rather than just an "idea."
Saturday, November 10, 2007
Let me tell you something, Mel. To know Kelly is NOT to love her.
OMG, I am so hung-over that I just ordered brunch for delivery. All that happened was a 90210 marathon at Matt's house! There's a drinking game that involves Jim taking off his shirt, Brandon leading Andrea on, anyone saying someone's full name, and maybe some other things. I was drinking white wine, and then vodka with Crush.
I threw up twice at Matt's house, then fell asleep on his couch, then Antonia and Eddie and I took a cab back to the west side. I remember Eddie saying "you guys have to get out of there" to Antonia when she told the cab driver "now we're going to Amsterdam and 1xxth St." Maybe I'll be less hung-over in general once I move to Brooklyn! Anyway, there are no pictures, but Antonia videotaped us watching the episode where Mel and Jackie go on their first date. Season 2, those were some good times...
Now I just have to stay awake long enough for my brunch delivery to arrive.
No more white wine in my life, ever, ever.
I threw up twice at Matt's house, then fell asleep on his couch, then Antonia and Eddie and I took a cab back to the west side. I remember Eddie saying "you guys have to get out of there" to Antonia when she told the cab driver "now we're going to Amsterdam and 1xxth St." Maybe I'll be less hung-over in general once I move to Brooklyn! Anyway, there are no pictures, but Antonia videotaped us watching the episode where Mel and Jackie go on their first date. Season 2, those were some good times...
Now I just have to stay awake long enough for my brunch delivery to arrive.
No more white wine in my life, ever, ever.
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
hubristic
Whoa.
I was on the subway coming uptown from the gym, and at 42nd St a drunk-smelling dude pushed onto the train behind me. I refuse to ride the train with a drunk dude pressed up against my butt, so I moved around so I was looking at him. He was a chubby, middle-aged black guy with a mustache. He was hogging the pole that I was holding on to, so I gave his arm a little nudge -- just a little one, I swear! He said, "Don't fucking look at me. I'm not homeless. I'll punch you in the face. I'll punch you in the face." I said, "Don't say that shit to me." I put on my ipod. He said, "I punched plenty of white ladies in the face before. Plenty." I said, "Yeah, okay." I admit, I got a little aggro, which secretly makes me feel pretty good in those situations.
We rode in silence until 72nd St, and as soon as the doors open he broke. I thought he got off but turns out he'd gone in the other direction. He was getting up in this blond girl's face, and all of a sudden he pulled out a knife -- like a small garlic cutting knife. He waved it around and then waved it toward the brown-haired friend of the blond girl. She immediately started crying and actually I think she puked slightly and then swallowed it. The guy got off the train. He stood right by the doors; no one moved. The doors closed and the train pulled away. This other white girl went up to the targeted white girls and asked if they were okay; they said they were even though the brown haired girl was still crying. I asked if they were okay too -- it seemed like the right thing to do even though I had just heard them say they were.
All the white girls got off at 96th St to wait for the local train. No one else said anything. We all got off at 116th St and walked onto campus and off in different directions, and then I had to go to my office hours, so here I am now.
I was on the subway coming uptown from the gym, and at 42nd St a drunk-smelling dude pushed onto the train behind me. I refuse to ride the train with a drunk dude pressed up against my butt, so I moved around so I was looking at him. He was a chubby, middle-aged black guy with a mustache. He was hogging the pole that I was holding on to, so I gave his arm a little nudge -- just a little one, I swear! He said, "Don't fucking look at me. I'm not homeless. I'll punch you in the face. I'll punch you in the face." I said, "Don't say that shit to me." I put on my ipod. He said, "I punched plenty of white ladies in the face before. Plenty." I said, "Yeah, okay." I admit, I got a little aggro, which secretly makes me feel pretty good in those situations.
We rode in silence until 72nd St, and as soon as the doors open he broke. I thought he got off but turns out he'd gone in the other direction. He was getting up in this blond girl's face, and all of a sudden he pulled out a knife -- like a small garlic cutting knife. He waved it around and then waved it toward the brown-haired friend of the blond girl. She immediately started crying and actually I think she puked slightly and then swallowed it. The guy got off the train. He stood right by the doors; no one moved. The doors closed and the train pulled away. This other white girl went up to the targeted white girls and asked if they were okay; they said they were even though the brown haired girl was still crying. I asked if they were okay too -- it seemed like the right thing to do even though I had just heard them say they were.
All the white girls got off at 96th St to wait for the local train. No one else said anything. We all got off at 116th St and walked onto campus and off in different directions, and then I had to go to my office hours, so here I am now.
Are you watching? Are you?
When I was little I used to get annoyed when strangers looked at me. I remember being on the subway with my mom one time, sitting on the corner bench on a crowded afternooon, looking up at the adults benignly watching my (adorable) 4-year-old behavior as they hung on to the strap above us. I told my mom that I hated it when people crowded me, that they should just mind their business, go stand somewhere else and look somewhere else. I can still picture the amused smiles on the faces of those hapless commuters as they looked for something else to look at.
I don't get weirded out as much anymore when people stare at me, but I get curious. You know how some days it feels like everyone you pass on the street recognizes you or something? On days like that I just want to stop people and be like, "What is it? Do I look like your cousin? Do I have something on my face? Did I do something good with my hair? What do you think of me, really?" Or even when it's just one person at a bar or a show or in a class, and you're looking at them and they're looking back, over and over until maybe you talk all night/fool around/spend the next year leaving toothpaste and shirts and books at each others houses and talking about the future... I still want to know (even though I never ask): How did it start? Was it my face? My outfit? My boobs? My crooked tooth? Were you impressed by who I was talking to, or what I was talking about, or what I was drinking? Was it just the fact that I was looking back?
On Monday I went with Charlie to my friends Andrew and Josh's party, HUGS. It's really taking off (there's even a biter party called Hugs in Brooklyn now, I saw a myspace bulletin about it) and this week was proof. The place was packed with familiar faces. There was a band playing downstairs called Realms, and we watched for half a song. I think they sound Thrones-y, but who really knows. Well, maybe the people who were watching for longer could tell you. The themes of the evening were: record release, birthday, going away to San Diego to see about a girl, and why Monday nights are always totally worth it. What else can I tell you, I'm convinced!
In other news, I have this idea for a project, and I need to know: when you are walking around jamming on your ipod/discman/SPORTwalkman, do you picture your fave tunes as a soundtrack to your life? Or is it more like you picture a music video? Or is it a skate video? Or is it actually a soundtrack to some story that does not star you? Or do you just jam on it and not picture anything? Actually, if it's that last answer, you should make something else up because that doesn't really help me.
I don't get weirded out as much anymore when people stare at me, but I get curious. You know how some days it feels like everyone you pass on the street recognizes you or something? On days like that I just want to stop people and be like, "What is it? Do I look like your cousin? Do I have something on my face? Did I do something good with my hair? What do you think of me, really?" Or even when it's just one person at a bar or a show or in a class, and you're looking at them and they're looking back, over and over until maybe you talk all night/fool around/spend the next year leaving toothpaste and shirts and books at each others houses and talking about the future... I still want to know (even though I never ask): How did it start? Was it my face? My outfit? My boobs? My crooked tooth? Were you impressed by who I was talking to, or what I was talking about, or what I was drinking? Was it just the fact that I was looking back?
On Monday I went with Charlie to my friends Andrew and Josh's party, HUGS. It's really taking off (there's even a biter party called Hugs in Brooklyn now, I saw a myspace bulletin about it) and this week was proof. The place was packed with familiar faces. There was a band playing downstairs called Realms, and we watched for half a song. I think they sound Thrones-y, but who really knows. Well, maybe the people who were watching for longer could tell you. The themes of the evening were: record release, birthday, going away to San Diego to see about a girl, and why Monday nights are always totally worth it. What else can I tell you, I'm convinced!
In other news, I have this idea for a project, and I need to know: when you are walking around jamming on your ipod/discman/SPORTwalkman, do you picture your fave tunes as a soundtrack to your life? Or is it more like you picture a music video? Or is it a skate video? Or is it actually a soundtrack to some story that does not star you? Or do you just jam on it and not picture anything? Actually, if it's that last answer, you should make something else up because that doesn't really help me.
Monday, November 5, 2007
When you're lost out there and you're all alone
I guess this isn't a coincidence as much as it's just "something else that happened," but I've been watching the 3rd season of Weeds, and last night I got to this episode where Mary Kate Olsen is a guest star! I think she's recurring. She plays a seductive fundamentalist Christian hippie.
Sunday, November 4, 2007
Whatever happened to predictability? The milkman? The paperboy?
This is getting a little ridiculous... for the second Sunday in a row, the yoga class I normally go to has been totally full! Today the teacher was turning people away! One girl looked more upset than I was, so you know it was a major situation. I didn't stick around to see what would happen.
I headed for home and on my way I ran into the woman whose two kids I used to babysit. Her son, age 22, is hitchhiking through Mexico after graduating from the University of Wisconsin and going on an anti-war hunger strike for 10 days in Pittsburgh. Her daughter, age 17, is taking book art classes and working at a bedding store after graduating from an alternative high school. Although those seem like normal adolescent behaviors to me, I guess those things are hard for a mom to accept, even if the mom is an artist who rides a bike. But I didn't really know what to say besides, "it's normal that you wish you could go to Mexico and find S., but you know you need to give him space, right?" I mean, that's just how life goes! One day you have some babies and on another day you realize that they're whole people with separate lives than yours.
Anyway, despite the fact that my encounter with her kind of bummed me out, this weekend and week have been pretty rad in general. I feel like I finally have more "me time," and also kind of like I semi-know what I'm doing. Maybe saying "I don't know what I'm doing" enough times just automatically starts to give you ideas. But also I think the 100% best treatment for my freaking out has been hanging out with people (friends, etc.) who are inspiring, caring, and awesome. I know this is just about the corniest thing in the world that I could say, and maybe it sounds like I just went to a Sri Chinmoy seminar, but it is so true.
Everywhere you look! ahhhh ahhh ahhhhhhh... Everywhere you look! shoo ba doo bop ba daaaaaaa!
I headed for home and on my way I ran into the woman whose two kids I used to babysit. Her son, age 22, is hitchhiking through Mexico after graduating from the University of Wisconsin and going on an anti-war hunger strike for 10 days in Pittsburgh. Her daughter, age 17, is taking book art classes and working at a bedding store after graduating from an alternative high school. Although those seem like normal adolescent behaviors to me, I guess those things are hard for a mom to accept, even if the mom is an artist who rides a bike. But I didn't really know what to say besides, "it's normal that you wish you could go to Mexico and find S., but you know you need to give him space, right?" I mean, that's just how life goes! One day you have some babies and on another day you realize that they're whole people with separate lives than yours.
Anyway, despite the fact that my encounter with her kind of bummed me out, this weekend and week have been pretty rad in general. I feel like I finally have more "me time," and also kind of like I semi-know what I'm doing. Maybe saying "I don't know what I'm doing" enough times just automatically starts to give you ideas. But also I think the 100% best treatment for my freaking out has been hanging out with people (friends, etc.) who are inspiring, caring, and awesome. I know this is just about the corniest thing in the world that I could say, and maybe it sounds like I just went to a Sri Chinmoy seminar, but it is so true.
Everywhere you look! ahhhh ahhh ahhhhhhh... Everywhere you look! shoo ba doo bop ba daaaaaaa!
Saturday, November 3, 2007
This is the truth.
I was out with Eddie, TGIF-ing on a weeknight. We were watching these Italian tourists dancing in a circle and singing along to Feist and The Gossip. They were all carrying their bags with them. I guess they heard that NYC can be a rough place! Anyways, this one girl had a really long and flat butt, and it was Eddie who noticed the (anthropomorphic?) resemblance.
Long story short: do you ever think peoples butts in tight jeans look like owls' faces? I asked America, and America spoke. Here are some highlights:
Long story short: do you ever think peoples butts in tight jeans look like owls' faces? I asked America, and America spoke. Here are some highlights:
I will now! I always think of those 80s viewfindersHoo indeed.
Great mental image. Now I won't be able to look at one without thinking that.
I must have a huge owls face then.
You're so weird ilu
Never thought of it that way before...
Now that you mention it
I see a photoshop experiment in your future!
late addition txt msg:
That had not occurred to me, no. But does it make you want to wear tight jeans so that your butt matches your necklace?
(I say: Yes, it sure does. I want a necklace like a butt.)
And who can blame you? Who? Who?
Thursday, November 1, 2007
backstage, underage
Well that was an interesting night, the details of which I will never reveal. Here's what I was doing back in 1996...
I was so obsessed with that photobooth... on 10th and A, right down the street from Brownies. You could choose a background for the photos.
Here's to November!
I was so obsessed with that photobooth... on 10th and A, right down the street from Brownies. You could choose a background for the photos.
Here's to November!
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Tacoctober
I've been invited to a variety of Halloween parties it's true, but I'm wondering if I can just trick everyone into believing I'm at a different Halloween party than them and ditch completely! My costume is pretty good (a killer bee) but my bangs are officially too long as of this week, I have a pimple, which always seems dire to me, and I'm so beat! I feel like it's been too long since I hung out with myself -- just, you know, maybe some fro yo, some online shoe shopping, trying on all my clothes and then throwing them on the floor, daydreamin'... Maybe that's what I'll do, and maybe it's not -- you'll never know for sure!
In other news: goodbye October! We've had some crazy times, and I thought we weren't going to get along for a few weeks there, but we made it! See you again next year!
In other news: goodbye October! We've had some crazy times, and I thought we weren't going to get along for a few weeks there, but we made it! See you again next year!
Sunday, October 28, 2007
dog sleep disorder; futon new york city; captain singleton defoe
I just realized I have no responsibilities starting at 1 PM this Thursday until 6:10 PM the following Wednesday! And I have a car! Now that is something to look forward to. Where should I go? What should I do?
Have you ever checked your "search history" on that google search toolbar on your computer? I just did, and it's pretty good. Here are some highlights starting with "a":
Have you ever checked your "search history" on that google search toolbar on your computer? I just did, and it's pretty good. Here are some highlights starting with "a":
- A throng of bearded men, in sad-colored garments, and gray, steeple-crowned hats,
- a potato in situ
- acute sore throat
- african dog
- age of consent new york state
- akron catholic
- albert ayler
- annie actress
- aoyama
- antebellum
- anxiety disorder
- ashlee simpson
- atopia
- atopica
- attachment disorder dog
- audio documentary
- autodocumentary
Either she pooped in a bucket or she didn't
I thought that apartment in Greenpoint was going to work out, but then it fell through! I'm still looking for a place. Yesterday I went to look at an apartment that advertised itself as having three bedrooms/two bathrooms and wood floors. One of the bathrooms is private (aka only for the actress from San Francisco who was renting out the other two bedrooms), and the wood floors are actually that wood veneer tile stuff that you can buy at Ikea! Take your lies somewhere else, you cheating hippie! (Not that everyone from San Francisco is a cheating hippie obvs.)
I just saw this on Craigslist:
This must be totally fake, right? There's so much to dissect: Writing in the 3rd person. So much excitement for Payless. No tomboys. But also no best friends. And you have to watch your roommate try on 25 different outfits while she's getting ready. Unless you leave secretly through your separate exit!
In other news, I went to see Morrissey last night and whoa.
I just saw this on Craigslist:
$825 Non-smoking petless girl to move into cool Williamsburg apt.
Reply to: hous-461266805@craigslist.org
Date: 2007-10-27, 12:44PM EDT
I'm looking for someone to take over my room in our awesome apartment one and one half blocks from the Grand Street (L) subway station on a quiet block in East Williamsburg. I'm moving because I got a job far away that starts at 7:00am and that's too early to commute from here.
The Apartment: You will pay half the rent (you can see the lease when you sign it) on a two bedroom railroad garden apartment. Your room is in front and has a higher ceiling (very high!) and a bigger closet and your roomate's room is in back and is attached to the garden. Of course you have use of the garden, but will have to go through her room (she's totally cool about this). The large garden is exclusively ours and the two twenty-something year old guys who live across the hall, but I've never really seen them use it (they're cool, but barely ever home). The apartment was renovated during the summer just before we moved in and is totally new and very nice (kitchen, bathroom, windows, doors, floors, paint, everything is new and nice!) The building is small-three floors with two apartments on each. Both bedrooms are large by NYC standards and are roughly the same size. The middle room (common space) is a combo/kitchen and living room and has very little in the way of furniture, so a small couch of yours may be welcome (you'd have to discuss that with your new roommate). Of course, anything you can fit in your unfurnished room is welcome. It easily and comfortably fits a full bed, dresser, desk, tv stand, chair, etc. Each bedroom has it's own private entrance/exit to the building's hallway. The neighborhood has plenty of stores (including Payless!!!) and supermarkets, bars, launrdy, restaurants, etc all very close.
The Roommate: She's very cool and easy to live with. She's clean and rarely home, as she's a teacher, has a serious boyfriend who lives two blocks away, and has a very active social life and goes out frequently. She's in her late twenties and funny, smart and stylish. She's girly (like she puts on twenty five outfits and elicits your opinion on each before going out) but she's not excessively so (she spent a month in Ecaudor this summer and stayed in some nice hotels, but also spent a good portion of that trip essentially pooping in buckets). She's also pretty hot, so watch your boyfriends! She likes to drink a nice bottle of wine and doesn't smoke weed, but doesn't really mind if I do, but no alkies or druggies, please. And she doesn't care if you socially smoke or whatever, but she'd like for someone not to smoke cigarettes in the apartment. She's not looking for a new best friend or anything and will totally respect your privacy and ask that you respect hers, and she's not looking for her clone, but she would like someone sort of like herself. In other words, you should be: in your twenties, fun/social, not dumpy or frumpy, not butchy or tom-boyish, well-educated, fashionable, relatively clean, have a normal job and be responsible with bills and rent. If you are not these things, please don't waste our time making us meet you and feel badly when we have to then giggle and smirk after you leave and come up with a suitably compassionate lie to reject you. I'm sorry to be so frank, but I don't want to waste your or our time and energy. Also, she has a cat and doesn't want anymore pets.
We're looking for someone to move in on December 1st or a few days before that.
Thank you for your interest...serious inquiries only.
This must be totally fake, right? There's so much to dissect: Writing in the 3rd person. So much excitement for Payless. No tomboys. But also no best friends. And you have to watch your roommate try on 25 different outfits while she's getting ready. Unless you leave secretly through your separate exit!
In other news, I went to see Morrissey last night and whoa.
Friday, October 26, 2007
Reader-Produced Issue
For Columbia undergrads Halloween starts the Thursday before the actual holiday. For me, I keep wishing for more time! If you have costume ideas for me, please share them. What if I went as the little girl with the Thor helmet from Adventures in Babysitting? God, I feel lame just writing that.
Here, this is a 100% guaranteed cheer-up. When I was 13 I wanted to model the entire path of my life on this video. I wonder where this girl is now... if you have spare time on your hands please try to find out.
Also, I need a new ringtone for my phone. If you can't think of a good Halloween costume for me or locate the Dirty Boots girl, please just tell me what song my phone should play this fall.
Here, this is a 100% guaranteed cheer-up. When I was 13 I wanted to model the entire path of my life on this video. I wonder where this girl is now... if you have spare time on your hands please try to find out.
Also, I need a new ringtone for my phone. If you can't think of a good Halloween costume for me or locate the Dirty Boots girl, please just tell me what song my phone should play this fall.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Oh, a day spa!
Did you know there's a whole genre of girl-in-car videos on Youtube?
I guess that is exactly who I would have pictured knowing all the words to "Last Dance With Mary Jane," if I had ever pictured it before.
Whoa, what happened to Katie?
I guess that is exactly who I would have pictured knowing all the words to "Last Dance With Mary Jane," if I had ever pictured it before.
Whoa, what happened to Katie?
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Friday, October 19, 2007
What goes around comes around
So, this morning I went to Greenpoint to look at that house, which I think I'm going to take, and it was interesting to talk to the owner of the house who is a mom and an artist whose art is all produced collaboratively with her husband. (I was going to write about that.)
I came home, and -- even though I'm totally poor right now until my mid-semester stipend comes in -- got a lentil soup from the coffee place down the street from me where all the people who work there are crazy. (I was also going to write about the crazy-people coffee place.)
So, I come home, reach my hand into the bag (which is a little soggy already because p.s. it's raining, and I actually bought a $3 umbrella in Greenpoint in response to this weather sitch, further compromising my budget) and immediately I am scalded by the soup -- the lid wasn't on right! So then I put the soup down, wash my hands, come back, pick up the bag again, and the soup spills ALL OVER THE COUCH.
It was just about the most disgusting thing I've ever seen (brown lentils on brown chenille), and also the saddest, and it could have become even sadder because my first thought was "I could probably save some of this" ("save" aka "eat"). But it seemed more important to save the couch. So, I did, although there is a pervasive smell of lentils in my apartment now, which, as those of you who enjoy lentils know, is not always the best.
And now I am forced to eat this disgusting vegan chicken salad that I got earlier in the week at Fairway and that tastes like all it's made with is celery and Miracle Whip. No joke, I think I'm going on a fast because the sight (and smell) of the lentils on the couch plus the taste of this fake chicken salad vegan mayonaisse crap is enough to make me hate all foods 4EVS!!!
IS THIS KARMA??? It's true that I have been slightly full of hate this week but I've done lots of good things too! Maybe I will meditate on this while I wash the lentils from my yoga pants.
I came home, and -- even though I'm totally poor right now until my mid-semester stipend comes in -- got a lentil soup from the coffee place down the street from me where all the people who work there are crazy. (I was also going to write about the crazy-people coffee place.)
So, I come home, reach my hand into the bag (which is a little soggy already because p.s. it's raining, and I actually bought a $3 umbrella in Greenpoint in response to this weather sitch, further compromising my budget) and immediately I am scalded by the soup -- the lid wasn't on right! So then I put the soup down, wash my hands, come back, pick up the bag again, and the soup spills ALL OVER THE COUCH.
It was just about the most disgusting thing I've ever seen (brown lentils on brown chenille), and also the saddest, and it could have become even sadder because my first thought was "I could probably save some of this" ("save" aka "eat"). But it seemed more important to save the couch. So, I did, although there is a pervasive smell of lentils in my apartment now, which, as those of you who enjoy lentils know, is not always the best.
And now I am forced to eat this disgusting vegan chicken salad that I got earlier in the week at Fairway and that tastes like all it's made with is celery and Miracle Whip. No joke, I think I'm going on a fast because the sight (and smell) of the lentils on the couch plus the taste of this fake chicken salad vegan mayonaisse crap is enough to make me hate all foods 4EVS!!!
IS THIS KARMA??? It's true that I have been slightly full of hate this week but I've done lots of good things too! Maybe I will meditate on this while I wash the lentils from my yoga pants.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Check it
Charlie put all these photos from Wendy's wedding on his flickr page! I'm only in one, but that's okay! I was probably doing something fun while these pictures were taken, although the world may never know for sure.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
I hope you're keeping some kind of record
Twice in the last week I've been getting off the elevator on the first floor of my building and someone else (not the same person though) has tried to get on the elevator while I was getting out. Like, simultaneously squeezing through the door. Both times I fought back -- right of way, motherfucker! -- but both times also the person was so insistent. It was like a turf war. This morning the woman kept saying "sorry! sorry!" and then just trying to push past me more. I mean, why would you try to get on an elevator right when someone else is trying to get off? Have you never been on an elevator before? Who are you??? It makes me nostalgic for London, where "accidental" passerby violence against stupid pedestrians seems way more acceptable than it is here in the Poinciana.
I'm reading The Things They Carried for a class and I'm so not into it. Yeah yeah, it doesn't have to be true to be true, bla bla, trauma, communal memory, what's new? I get it. Plus, Vietnam is such a bummer.
I'm reading The Things They Carried for a class and I'm so not into it. Yeah yeah, it doesn't have to be true to be true, bla bla, trauma, communal memory, what's new? I get it. Plus, Vietnam is such a bummer.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Omens for right now
- Giant pool of blood on the 116th st. 1 train platform, with a few deli napkins scattered and a smears/drips trail leading up the stairs to the exit.
- Tiny notebook left in elevator in my building, with coffee stain on spine and writing in pencil on first page only.
- The song "Driveway to Driveway."
- This text message:
r u in a truth ad?! Im engaged! Howru?
Monday, October 15, 2007
Other Zoes
Star of such films as "Drumline"
Screenwriter of "Bad Lieutenant," actress, and dead person
Famous photographer
Mischa Barton's sister
Computer scientist from Stanford
Friend to Downsies
Friend to Bichon Frises
A zebra, of course
A cyclone
A research turtle
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Return of the repressed Express pants
Oh in other news, I might have found an apartment in Greenpoint, although the girl who already lives there is being a little weird and I'm not sure if it's because she's busy or because she hates me. But in any case it makes me realize how psyched I am to move. Everyone knows how much I love to move! No, seriously, I do.
I'm trying to figure out my fall wardrobe now that it's suddenly fall, and here's the problem: in a rare moment of closet-organization fervor, I threw away nearly all my pants back in August. I didn't really like any of them that much, and at the time I thought, "Well, I never wear any of these anyway!" I'm sure I don't need to spell it out for any of you, but just remember that those pants that made you feel fat in August might just make you feel warm in October.
And I have the same shoe problem -- I tossed more than a dozen pairs in the summer, but now I have, like, a pair of sneakers, two pairs of boots, and a bunch of party shoes. And some flip flops. And, I just went shoe shopping but I bought a pair of patent-leather pumps and a pair of yellow suede ballet flats. WHY??? I blame Tim Gunn for all of this -- why is he encouraging people to have only ten items in their closets???
Right now I'm staring at the pile of cute sundresses on my floor, wishing it would magically become a pile of cute wool jumpers. Preferably already on hangers. This is really one of those times when an intern or wife would be useful.
I'm trying to figure out my fall wardrobe now that it's suddenly fall, and here's the problem: in a rare moment of closet-organization fervor, I threw away nearly all my pants back in August. I didn't really like any of them that much, and at the time I thought, "Well, I never wear any of these anyway!" I'm sure I don't need to spell it out for any of you, but just remember that those pants that made you feel fat in August might just make you feel warm in October.
And I have the same shoe problem -- I tossed more than a dozen pairs in the summer, but now I have, like, a pair of sneakers, two pairs of boots, and a bunch of party shoes. And some flip flops. And, I just went shoe shopping but I bought a pair of patent-leather pumps and a pair of yellow suede ballet flats. WHY??? I blame Tim Gunn for all of this -- why is he encouraging people to have only ten items in their closets???
Right now I'm staring at the pile of cute sundresses on my floor, wishing it would magically become a pile of cute wool jumpers. Preferably already on hangers. This is really one of those times when an intern or wife would be useful.
Saturday, October 13, 2007
In another part of the world
I had midterm essay meetings with lots of my students and everyone looked so tired. Even my doorman noticed it. I looked in the mirror during a break between conferences yesterday and my eyes were all puffy, my bangs are getting too long, no more summer tan.
When I was driving to Toronto that song "Once in a Lifetime" came on my iPod at the perfect moment in Western New York, driving past some fields and hills and farms, all sunny and pretty with the leaves changing and the still-green grass. How many people have written diary entries and blog entries and short stories and yearbook pages about this is not my beautiful life, behind the wheel of a large automobile, you ask yourself: how did I get here? Well, it's a pretty good song.
Ever since I came back home on Monday there's been a dog barking somewhere in my building. I figure it must be a new dog, a dog who isn't used to getting left home alone. Pretty soon someone will complain and his owners will realize that their dog has a whole life of his own when they're not home -- they hardly even know him.
Last month when I got my thesis advisor assignment I started thinking, how did I get here? What am I doing? Where is this going? It's different to ask those questions when you know what you're doing for another couple years than it is to ask it when you're on that countdown to who-knows-what.
I remember back when I moved out to California after the big break-up I was so lost: walking a mile to the BART every morning to go from Berkeley to SFCC, spending all my money on jeans, writing mean notes to my roommate, making out with the randomest selection of guys (DMV, college bars, the mall, summer school), eating only carrot sticks and pizza and crying all the time. But then I got a job, and a better apartment across from Trader Joe's, and I learned to drive, and I would drive from Oakland up to my suburban job listening to "No More Drama" (mostly because I couldn't stand listening to any music besides top 40, anything that reminded me of New York and my old life) on my Discman connected to my tape player. And I was like, Mary J is so right: it's up to us to choose whether we win or lose. Maybe I liked the stress 'cause I was young and restless but that I was long ago and I don't wanna cry no more. No more Zoe/mom drama, no more his-friends-or-my-friends drama.
So I got a better job and even a car with a CD player, and a few years went by and then I was applying to graduate school, and it was a big relief to everybody, especially my parents who were not sure how to describe me at dinner parties anymore, but that didn't bother me because I was doing it for myself, you know? I was into it. I wanted to stay in California, or move to Toronto -- it seemed like an inspiring place to go, even though I had only been there a little before, especially given the state of the world in late 2004. I didn't really want to go back to New York.
But in between applying and getting in, my grandmother died and then my mom got sick. I remember sitting there when my mom had just had her surgery, fucked up on morphine and cursing me out because I was trying to keep her from pulling out her I.V., and I totally hated her for how much she looked like my grandmother, how much her voice sounded like my grandmother's voice. And of course, I hated myself too for pushing her away for a whole decade, for living far away for the past four years, and I didn't blame her at all a couple months later when I heard her say to her friend on the phone, right in front of me, that her naturopath thought the disease was caused by me, by the stress of caring about me and fighting with me for so many years. Guess what? All those times you wished your mother would die back when you were 14? Experts agree, you could get your wish! Except that luckily, my best efforts were foiled by medical professionals at Mt. Sinai.
So, I said yes to Columbia, and I tried not to think about the reasons why. Of course, that's all hindsight. At the time, I just didn't think about it -- it didn't feel like trying. And it's so easy to do something when you know exactly what's expected of you -- that doesn't really feel like trying either. But now I have to start having thesis meetings, and figuring out what I'm going to do for funding next year, and figuring out what I'm going to do after that. And exactly ten days after I found out who my thesis advisor is going to be, I found out that my mother is sick again, and she's probably (maybe? I guess I have to be careful what I say) going to die. She actually didn't tell me -- she told my sisters, at the dinner table, while I was sitting there having a conversation with my dad about baseball (I guess she likes the convenience of overhearing). And it turns out she's known since April. Thanks, Karen!
And, I know this is crazy, but the first thing I remember thinking is, "why did I bother?" Why did I come back here? Was it just to save my mom? (Did I really think this would be enough?) To make myself feel less guilty? Or did I have some purer reason, something about my hopes for my own future, happy and separate like I used to feel? Did I think I'd find something good in New York in spite of my reservations? And, have I found it? I guess the answer is, it all depends on what I do next. I need to get that feeling back that I had when I knew what I wanted instead of what everyone else wants. I need to get back to that feeling you get when there's only one bus an hour to work so you can't be late, back to the way I used to imagine myself finishing something I care about making and having other people care about it too, back to the discman and the car and the pizza.
Yeah, I just need to figure out what I need to do next. But then here's another question: Is it okay for me to leave again?
When I was driving to Toronto that song "Once in a Lifetime" came on my iPod at the perfect moment in Western New York, driving past some fields and hills and farms, all sunny and pretty with the leaves changing and the still-green grass. How many people have written diary entries and blog entries and short stories and yearbook pages about this is not my beautiful life, behind the wheel of a large automobile, you ask yourself: how did I get here? Well, it's a pretty good song.
Ever since I came back home on Monday there's been a dog barking somewhere in my building. I figure it must be a new dog, a dog who isn't used to getting left home alone. Pretty soon someone will complain and his owners will realize that their dog has a whole life of his own when they're not home -- they hardly even know him.
Last month when I got my thesis advisor assignment I started thinking, how did I get here? What am I doing? Where is this going? It's different to ask those questions when you know what you're doing for another couple years than it is to ask it when you're on that countdown to who-knows-what.
I remember back when I moved out to California after the big break-up I was so lost: walking a mile to the BART every morning to go from Berkeley to SFCC, spending all my money on jeans, writing mean notes to my roommate, making out with the randomest selection of guys (DMV, college bars, the mall, summer school), eating only carrot sticks and pizza and crying all the time. But then I got a job, and a better apartment across from Trader Joe's, and I learned to drive, and I would drive from Oakland up to my suburban job listening to "No More Drama" (mostly because I couldn't stand listening to any music besides top 40, anything that reminded me of New York and my old life) on my Discman connected to my tape player. And I was like, Mary J is so right: it's up to us to choose whether we win or lose. Maybe I liked the stress 'cause I was young and restless but that I was long ago and I don't wanna cry no more. No more Zoe/mom drama, no more his-friends-or-my-friends drama.
So I got a better job and even a car with a CD player, and a few years went by and then I was applying to graduate school, and it was a big relief to everybody, especially my parents who were not sure how to describe me at dinner parties anymore, but that didn't bother me because I was doing it for myself, you know? I was into it. I wanted to stay in California, or move to Toronto -- it seemed like an inspiring place to go, even though I had only been there a little before, especially given the state of the world in late 2004. I didn't really want to go back to New York.
But in between applying and getting in, my grandmother died and then my mom got sick. I remember sitting there when my mom had just had her surgery, fucked up on morphine and cursing me out because I was trying to keep her from pulling out her I.V., and I totally hated her for how much she looked like my grandmother, how much her voice sounded like my grandmother's voice. And of course, I hated myself too for pushing her away for a whole decade, for living far away for the past four years, and I didn't blame her at all a couple months later when I heard her say to her friend on the phone, right in front of me, that her naturopath thought the disease was caused by me, by the stress of caring about me and fighting with me for so many years. Guess what? All those times you wished your mother would die back when you were 14? Experts agree, you could get your wish! Except that luckily, my best efforts were foiled by medical professionals at Mt. Sinai.
So, I said yes to Columbia, and I tried not to think about the reasons why. Of course, that's all hindsight. At the time, I just didn't think about it -- it didn't feel like trying. And it's so easy to do something when you know exactly what's expected of you -- that doesn't really feel like trying either. But now I have to start having thesis meetings, and figuring out what I'm going to do for funding next year, and figuring out what I'm going to do after that. And exactly ten days after I found out who my thesis advisor is going to be, I found out that my mother is sick again, and she's probably (maybe? I guess I have to be careful what I say) going to die. She actually didn't tell me -- she told my sisters, at the dinner table, while I was sitting there having a conversation with my dad about baseball (I guess she likes the convenience of overhearing). And it turns out she's known since April. Thanks, Karen!
And, I know this is crazy, but the first thing I remember thinking is, "why did I bother?" Why did I come back here? Was it just to save my mom? (Did I really think this would be enough?) To make myself feel less guilty? Or did I have some purer reason, something about my hopes for my own future, happy and separate like I used to feel? Did I think I'd find something good in New York in spite of my reservations? And, have I found it? I guess the answer is, it all depends on what I do next. I need to get that feeling back that I had when I knew what I wanted instead of what everyone else wants. I need to get back to that feeling you get when there's only one bus an hour to work so you can't be late, back to the way I used to imagine myself finishing something I care about making and having other people care about it too, back to the discman and the car and the pizza.
Yeah, I just need to figure out what I need to do next. But then here's another question: Is it okay for me to leave again?
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
Everyday People
Okay, here's what I'm doing:
I went to Toronto for Wendy's wedding. It was fun. I got pretty drunk. I saw Ted Leo. That was okay. Saw some friends. That was cool. Then I came home, last night, and today I went to class, went to a meeting about my new job as a writing "consultant" (tutor) for Intro to Gender Studies, came home again, and now I'm going to see "Eastern Promises" again and then I'm going to hang out with David Cronenberg.
I went to Toronto for Wendy's wedding. It was fun. I got pretty drunk. I saw Ted Leo. That was okay. Saw some friends. That was cool. Then I came home, last night, and today I went to class, went to a meeting about my new job as a writing "consultant" (tutor) for Intro to Gender Studies, came home again, and now I'm going to see "Eastern Promises" again and then I'm going to hang out with David Cronenberg.
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Coming soon
- World of my doormen
- All new puking story, aka what I did this weekend
- Academic celebs and their beverages of choice
- Recent flaneuserie: 8th Ave vs. 7th Ave; and more
- Seasons change: am I having a pants crisis or a shoe crisis?
Meanwhile, here are some text messages I received recently:
who is jane jacobs?Also, when I woke up this morning after a long Monday night, I discovered that I had texted google for the address of this bar Dragonfly on Santa Monica Blvd. in Los Angeles. What a mystery!
Read lou pearlman article immediately. I love pinkberry!
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Night of revelations!
Charlie and Cara's friend Max was DJing at Enid's on Friday and I was into it so I went.
Nowadays Justine has moved on to bigger things, but back in 1998 she and this guy James drove my car from New York to Santa Cruz for me. They were on their way to San Francisco where James was hoping to sell a bunch of dead-stock shoes at Buffalo Exchange. He made $500. Remember when $500 made it worth driving across the country in December and the only Buffalo Exchange was in San Francisco?
It was unusual for me to see Josh in Brooklyn, but mostly because it's unusual for me to go to Brooklyn. Oh, P.S.: If you have been missing out on HUGS Monday nights you are missing things like: two different versions of "Hounds of Love" and "Beautiful Girl" in one night, Collie Buddz, "The Obvious Child" and multiple songs from Graceland every night, Superchunk, plus I got Andrew to play "I'ma Flirt" even though (he claimed) it's banned by Lit security. What are you waiting for!
I took this photo and Cara said, "that's a good one, I can tell." Cara is psychic! Also, she stopped someone from getting into a fight with the police!
Then it got late.
Charlie didn't get rabies.The next day Charlie and I saw "Eastern Promises" which was just great. I don't want to give too much away but if you are one of those people who's been waiting for Viggo to blaze a dude on-screen since he had that close friendship with the elf in "Lord of the Rings," well... I still think you're weird but I guess I can understand you now.
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Video special!
It was my dad's birthday and we had dinner at this Indian restaurant with many vegan options, because my sisters are both vegan. Drama central! But this is funny:
I am having a contest: try to explain what's happening in this conversation. It might be hard because my sister N. likes to be the center of attention so she keeps putting her hand in front of the camera, but it's worth it! Here's a clue: my dad is right!
Okay, more later. Such as: I have another video that features my sister E. explaining how she can tell when things have been made in China just by looking at them!
I am having a contest: try to explain what's happening in this conversation. It might be hard because my sister N. likes to be the center of attention so she keeps putting her hand in front of the camera, but it's worth it! Here's a clue: my dad is right!
Okay, more later. Such as: I have another video that features my sister E. explaining how she can tell when things have been made in China just by looking at them!
Friday, September 21, 2007
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Like robot eyes and burl art
After my dad told me he'd googled me (his defense: "I google everyone now!") I stopped feeling bad about looking up people I shouldn't really be curious about. So, earlier this week I googled my late 90s/early 00s-era ex. I see him from time to time because he goes to my university, but I guess I was wondering what the rest of the world thought of him. I already knew that there are like 12 other guys with his name (including an ex-member of Mannheim Steamroller), but what I didn't know was that there's another guy with his name who (also) lives in Brooklyn and (also) writes for an obscure magazine.
But the weirdest part is, there was a picture of the name-alike on the column, and even though I totally knew that the picture wasn't of my ex -- they were both white, with dirty blond hair, but no other resemblance -- I couldn't quite believe it. I kept looking at the picture trying to recognize it! It was pretty uncanny.
In other news, my students in the class I teach (not the class I T.A.) have been calling me either "Professor" or "Miss" in emails. I told them to call me "Zoe," I swear! If I tell them not to call me "Miss," I guess I have to tell them they shouldn't really call me "Professor" either, right?
But the weirdest part is, there was a picture of the name-alike on the column, and even though I totally knew that the picture wasn't of my ex -- they were both white, with dirty blond hair, but no other resemblance -- I couldn't quite believe it. I kept looking at the picture trying to recognize it! It was pretty uncanny.
In other news, my students in the class I teach (not the class I T.A.) have been calling me either "Professor" or "Miss" in emails. I told them to call me "Zoe," I swear! If I tell them not to call me "Miss," I guess I have to tell them they shouldn't really call me "Professor" either, right?
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
The big questions
I'm eating and apple and it tastes like vanilla! Does this mean I have brain damage, or could it just be a vanilla-y apple?
I'm at school, and there's a guy at the table next to mine who keeps grunting -- like, I guess he has some kind of grunting tic? Tourettes? I know this is rude but the grunting is really distracting. It's like a little "mmh! mmh!" grunt. And then after every few grunts he coughs.
He totally sat down at that table after I was already there, too.
OMG, I'm a terrible person, right?
I'm at school, and there's a guy at the table next to mine who keeps grunting -- like, I guess he has some kind of grunting tic? Tourettes? I know this is rude but the grunting is really distracting. It's like a little "mmh! mmh!" grunt. And then after every few grunts he coughs.
He totally sat down at that table after I was already there, too.
OMG, I'm a terrible person, right?
Monday, September 17, 2007
For the public
Dear everyone,
Kombucha is on sale -- 2 for $5.00!!! -- at Fairway! Go get lots! The "Green" flavor is the best, and the ginger one is pretty good too!
But make sure you check the expiration date, because if you don't, no one else is going to do it for you!! That's just the way of the world!!!
Love,
Zoe
Kombucha is on sale -- 2 for $5.00!!! -- at Fairway! Go get lots! The "Green" flavor is the best, and the ginger one is pretty good too!
But make sure you check the expiration date, because if you don't, no one else is going to do it for you!! That's just the way of the world!!!
Love,
Zoe
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Too much too young
I should be cleaning my apartment but "Superman Returns" is on TV. Lois Lane is rocketing toward space AS WE SPEAK. I love Superman!!!!
Do you ever worry that you've already peaked? Andrew and I were talking about this on Friday. Mostly, we were talking about this girl we both knew in high school from going to shows. Her zine was the Zine of the Month in Sassy one month, and she was in a band that opened for [a mid-90s "twee" pop band]**. After high school she moved to London, and that was basically the last I heard of her. Through friends I know that she has another zine and sometimes DJs 60s girlpop and Japanese 60s girlpop around London, and she looks the same, down to her haircut!
Anyway, Andrew says he looks at her myspace page sometimes and gets a total "revenge of the nerds" sensation. I guess I slightly worry that I am her. I mean, what have I done lately? How does it compare to how much I used to do? Are the things I make as good as they used to be? Is my gear as fresh? I know I don't really have as good taste in music as I used to, but do I at least have as good taste in general? I mean, I feel like I'm making progress, but am I really pushing things forward? Or, have I peaked? Also, do other people worry about this too, or is it just me?
OMFG Superman's kid is so adorable. He's like a cartoon baby animal!
** P.S. I suddenly got scared that this would show up in google searches for the band in question, because who else is creating internet content about them these days? So, I'm omitting the name, not that anyone cares about them anyway. Blogging is so much responsibility!
Do you ever worry that you've already peaked? Andrew and I were talking about this on Friday. Mostly, we were talking about this girl we both knew in high school from going to shows. Her zine was the Zine of the Month in Sassy one month, and she was in a band that opened for [a mid-90s "twee" pop band]**. After high school she moved to London, and that was basically the last I heard of her. Through friends I know that she has another zine and sometimes DJs 60s girlpop and Japanese 60s girlpop around London, and she looks the same, down to her haircut!
Anyway, Andrew says he looks at her myspace page sometimes and gets a total "revenge of the nerds" sensation. I guess I slightly worry that I am her. I mean, what have I done lately? How does it compare to how much I used to do? Are the things I make as good as they used to be? Is my gear as fresh? I know I don't really have as good taste in music as I used to, but do I at least have as good taste in general? I mean, I feel like I'm making progress, but am I really pushing things forward? Or, have I peaked? Also, do other people worry about this too, or is it just me?
OMFG Superman's kid is so adorable. He's like a cartoon baby animal!
** P.S. I suddenly got scared that this would show up in google searches for the band in question, because who else is creating internet content about them these days? So, I'm omitting the name, not that anyone cares about them anyway. Blogging is so much responsibility!
And a french braid
My shoulder still totally hurts -- last night I started to think the pain was going to cause a blood clot to form, and then the blood clot would break free and travel to my brain and cause a brain aneurism! To tell the truth it's still a worry in the back of my brain (no pun intended!!), so I'm trying to stick by more populated areas in case of emergency.
Here is my to-do list for today:
It's weird, I didn't notice Eddie was wearing that pizza hat and Mets shirt.
Here is my to-do list for today:
- Buy coffee from Porto Rico Coffee Company
- Buy backpack
- Buy groceries from Trader Joe's including papadum chips
- Clean apartment
- Finish grading papers for tomorrow
- Figure out lesson plan for tomorrow night
- Make essay assignment sheet
- Do reading for art history class (topic: panorama culture)
- Pilates DVD + major walk (no time for gym!)
Sorry if that was excruciatingly boring for you, the reader. Some things are just like that! Here are some pics from when Delia was here:
It's weird, I didn't notice Eddie was wearing that pizza hat and Mets shirt.
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