29 March 2005
Must destroy the Gap commercial where Sarah Jessica Parker is all
flouncing around and singing about how much she likes being a girl.
Destroooooyyyyy! As if SHE weren't bad enough, there's that part where
she claims that her "teeth are not teeth, but pearls!" and then I am
disgusted because I am thinking about her already-alarming face,
only full of horrible little nubby teeth, worn
down to rounded pearl-shapes. EW EW EW. No thank you!
27 March 2005
I have perhaps unwisely signed many forms indicating that I would like less money in my
paycheck, different tax exemptions, flex-$$ for my (my) metrocard, more flex-$$ for health
stuff. The health stuff is a little bit annoying, because you can't carry any money over
into the next year, and you can't change your withholdings once you've decided, and how the
hell should I know how much my dental work will cost? I figured it was safe to assume my
dental work will cost approximately a zillion dollars, since I have not been to the dentist
in at least three or four years, and my flossing is not the most faithful flossing. If I am
wrong, and my teeth are miraculously intact, I will just have to go on a health-related
spending spree and get new glasses or contacts or acupuncture or something.
On Thursday, I went after work to the Slipper Room to see&hear the Cross
Gender Caravan reading. I came a bit before seven, because I am incorrigibly punctual
like that, and of course the place, being a bar and all, was still closed up. I wandered
around the corner and into a bookstore called Bluestockings, which turned out to be not only adorable, bookful, and
Swarthmore-esque, but also the sponsor of the reading, so I could just follow people out of
there back to the bar when it opened. There was also a small, muttly, black-and-tan,
Chihuahua + something bigger and longer-haired dog. I tried to take a picture of it, but in
the time it took me to stop petting the dog and retrieve my camera from my bag, the dog had
wandered off to find someone more attentive. Hm.
Anyway! To the Slipper Room, where I sat at the bar drinking a beer and spinning in slow
circles on my barstool, until a girl in one of the booths invited me to sit there with her.
(Which was very nice but also kind of funny, I thought, as I always do when I realize again
that being alone is... I don't know... a state to be remedied? To be rescued from?
Peculiar.) The reading itself I enjoyed very much, some parts more than others... it was an
ok-sized crowd, laidback, not too interactive (not that I can escape blame there) ... but
appreciative! Mostly I came to see Charlie Anders read from her new book, but she also sang a song:
Genderdiscophoria! Heh. Bonus! I bought Choir Boy, but have not finished reading
it yet. Must ration for the subway. Discipline! Then, aus-hangen, pizza, home
regrettably early. Stupid weeknights. Stupid work.
Friday night: pajama/dinner/movie party with Roban and Emily. Saturday: laziness, followed
by a visit from Roban and Emily in the evening for beer & Trivial Pursuit. (Ach! My
worstest game! Or perhaps second-worst, after volleyball.) Today: sorting and ripping and
tossing and filing of many accumulated papers. I always worry that people will rifle
through them and reassemble my personal information, but I bet if I clean the litterboxes
directly into the trash bag on top of the papers, and then maybe pour in the aging
buttermilk, no one will touch it.
Holy shit, Tiffany is watching a documentary about Klaus Kinski and Werner Herzog right now,
and it is utterly hilarious. Kinski is a total maniac! And screaming all the time!
Herzog is narrating: "The Indians came to me and said 'Shall we kill him [Kinski] for you?'
and I said 'No, don't kill him, I still need him for shooting, leave him for me." Totally
serious! This is awesome!
Blah! I should have more to say than event - event - event, but I have a hard time.
Elsewhere I scribble (and type) notes to myself that seem vital but upon re-reading seem
useless. I plan out webs of things and then look at them blankly the next day. Zounds! I
require something to collect the scraps.
23 March 2005
No, but I wish I had!
If you (and by "you," I mean "me") were looking for a hummus recipe so you knew what to pick
the store, and you searched on the Cook's Illustrated website, and typed in the word
"hummus," this is
what you would see:
There were no matching recipes.
Did you mean: humans
22 March 2005
A new era! Today I have brought (in a little shopping bag, sadly, so
now I am one of THOSE people except it's not a Victoria's Secret bag and
I only took it because it was convenient) a lunch! Crackers, cookies,
apple, carrots, a little wheel of cheese. That's good, right? From now
on: I will bring my lunch! (Except for Wednesday and Thursday when work
feeds us.) I will save money! I will make tea downstairs instead of
buying coffee from the deli, I will eat my crackers and carrots instead
of buying sushi or soup from Whole Foods and the diner. Yes! I will
drink my bottle-full of water instead of buying expensive juice. I am
resolved! (This time for real.)
And then I will save enough money to have a savings account in which to
save yet more money and buy those things that make more money for me!
Mutual funds or something! What? Also I will save money for a new
apartment with doors. And maybe a puppy.
All because of cheese and baby carrots!
21 March 2005
The Revelry Report
Yes! To Philadelphia on Saturday for Laurel's Second Annual
Birthdayfest (not that she is two, rather that she had a -fest last
year, also): fun was had! Drink drunk, toilet paper acquired before
the situation became dire, One-Two Punch assembled and also drunk,
kegstands performed (good heavens not by me though), the
across-the-street hipster hang-out 700 Club visited & there gyrating
accomplished. Dan appropriately-overalled for Come On Eileen. Birthday
celebrated! Couch slept upon! Hangover happily
absent. Instead in the morning a diner-visit with L., Abram and Roban
for tasty omelets and urgently-needed coffee. Three cheers!
On Sunday I was embarrassingly cranky-fied, having not slept all that
much on the couch and not much at all on the train home. So I lounged
about all evening in sweatpants, made faces at all suggested activities,
drank tea, went to bed by 10.
I need a purpose! My myriad latent powers are worth nothing if I don't
do something with them. Hut-hut!
18 March 2005
Q & A
1. Why is there avocado smeared on my pillow?
Because the bed is up against on the wall on the other side of the
kitchen pass-through, and the immersion blender did its work vigorously
indeed last Wednesday when I was making guacamole.
2. What was I thinking when I decided to trim my own hair this
DESPERATION! Even slightly slanted-bangish-ness and messy rest of hair
is better than wedge-head!
3. Why has my loan consolidation not been processed yet?
Who knows! Bullshit! I would like to be paying less now please any day
now thank you yes.
4. Why is there a pasta-scooping fork-utensil between the bed and the
Dirty! No, see #1, but scratch the part about the immersion blender and
insert something about a dish drainer weighed down by silverware and
Hm, if I think of more questions I will add them.
17 March 2005
Sometimes my mind reverts to Roman numeral logic, like when I am buying
something at the grocery store and looking to see if I have exact
change, and I don't have four pennies, and I have to catch myself
I try to hand the cashier one penny and then one nickel in sequence. It
makes sense for a second. It would work in the other direction!
Agh! Something about the way my hair is growing out and the way I
blow-dried it this morning is making it look now like wedge-shaped
early-90s-newscaster hair. Is there even such a thing?? I don't know!
But it sucks! I could grow it long again, but that was annoying.
[insert me collapsing with hand across brow here]
[but not as AWESOME a collapse as Rebecca on Models last night!
I have a concern, and the concern is: I think if I were dropped on a
desert island alone and lived the rest of my life there, I would be ok.
Devastated at first, naturally, but... then I would get over it. "Eh,
people. Whatever!" Is that bad? It is like that in my head all the
time. I like you, though! I just... am funny.
There was more I was going to say, but we had a sudden coworker exchange
of tragic family stories and now my mind is all jumbly, and I must go.
16 March 2005
Whoa! Whoa! I guess I'm not addicted to coffee anymore.
Last night we went to the gym and so I took a shower in the evening and
so I didn't have to take one this morning and so I had time to go to
Java Girl before getting on the train and so I had a small coffee while
I sat with my reading-book and my writing-book for half an hour or so.
And and and! I had not had coffee since last Friday morning,
shockingly. And and and! Now I am SUPERZOOMGIRL with PLANS in my HEAD
and also ZOOOOM!
Quick, to the pile of papers on my desk and shelves, before this
14 March 2005
Two weekends ago, the Shirelles!
Dude, the Shirelles! Ok, only one of them was an original, but that's still pretty
impressive, and both of the Shir-extras were most excellent, too. They got a bunch of
middle-aged guys up on stage for "Met Him [only they changed it to 'Her,' I guess because
it's more fun to embarrass men, but only in a careful heterosexual way? Sounds likely...]
on a Sunday" and had them all sing certain lines, lines that they promptly forgot and
botched and giggled about. It was kind of cute, but also I had to hide my face. Also two
alarming women in the row behind us were hitting alarmingly on this one poor alarmed man who
pretty much latched onto his wife/girlfriend/date when she arrived (and sat between him and
the other women) and didn't let go. Protect me!
The weekend just past, Tiffany helped a co-worker pick out a cat from the shelter and
managed to come home without any more animals for us. Three cheers for restraint! She even
had to go back the next day by herself to properly adopt the chosen cat, because co-worker
was going away and the cat was still in its pre-adoptable waiting period the first visit.
She successfully worked the pound-bureaucracy and got her name first on the list, much to
the chagrin of the people who thought writing "adopted" on the nametag on the cat's cage
would somehow help their case. Ha! Suckers!
Also headed up to Monica's (waaaayyy up) for cheese and snacks and games and a couple
episodes from Jim Henson's
Storyteller series. The hedgehog one and the magic sack one. Now there are plans afoot
to make a low-budget (well, obviously. unless someone wants to pony up $$$$) porn film
involving frequent use of the line "NOW GET
IN MY SACK!"
The train trip back late at night was awesome X100, as the train went directly from 242nd
Street to 96th Street. I would go up there every damn day if it would always do that. It's
kind of funny the kind of protective and conspiratorial relationship I seem to have
developed with public transportation... even when the trains fuck up and I'm terribly late,
I'm pretty patient about it. Like, "well, there are a lot of people, and the rain or snow
or whatever messes it all up, I guess I'll just have to wait for the next train, or the
next. Or go to a different line. The train won't fail me, in the end!" I am oddly
The cats have made many friends on Catster! It's so pleasing! I don't know quite how to
describe it. It's like all the bad parts about Friendster (are you a creep? is that your
real name? what exactly are you doing when you're looking at my pictures? do I know you in
real life? are
you going to want to meet me?) are gone, and instead, other people have cute cats and like
my cute cats and their cute cats want to be friends with my cute cats. !!!! Ok! Click
away! I cannot yet envision a downside to this. Yes, friend, yes, click, yes, friend!
11 March 2005
Have I no shame? You decide:
It's snowing again today. I understand that technically it is still winter, but: bullshit!
Did nature not get the memo about my website? Purple, green? Hello?
Amelia, if you are reading this: last night in my dream (after the part with the
rotating-elevator staircase, and my fourth-grade teacher, and the dianetics lecture) we were
in the mall and you curled up defeatedly on a chair (as Laurel and I tried to comfort you) and
exclaimed: "Call security! I CAN'T FIND MY SWEATER!"
Whoa DHL dude is here, gotta go scan stuff.
7 March 2005
Observation: In the morning, Pigeon harasses me beginning at 6 or 7 by
running up and down over me, crying in my ear, and tapping me with her
foot until I get up and feed her. When I am away, she doesn't even try
to wake Tiffany.
I wonder whether she will try to wake Tiffany if
she sleeps on my side of the bed.
Hypothesis: If we switch sides of the bed, Pigeon will either try to
wake Tiffany, or climb over to find me and hit me until I wake up.
Either she is dumb, or she is smart (and also cruel.)
Procedure: We will switch sides of the bed so that I am sleeping by the
wall, the less accessible side. Duh. Then we will wait for the cat
to do something.
Materials: Bed, me, Tiffany, cat.
Data: When we switched sides, Pigeon did not try to wake me OR Tiffany
in the morning, although she did move from sleeping by Tiffany's feet
(where my feet usually are) because Tiffany kicked her off the bed three
times. She waited until we woke up at 10:30 to eat breakfast.
Analysis: The cat is either kind of dumb, or smart enough to realize
that it's hard for me to climb over Tiffany and feed her, and that
there's no way in hell Tiffany is going to wake up and feed her.
Conclusion: New sleeping arrangement for weekends! Holy shit:
UNINTERRUPTED SLEEPING IN!
3 March 2005
New colors, for spring, which I suppose somewhere it must be. Somewhere where the 12-degree wind chill
doesn't super-chill my glasses until my sinuses ache from it. I guess it is a few weeks early, still.
P.S. Top Model started last night: WHOO!