i copied freedom

Crossing Over by Frank Murphy

2010-12-07T08:38:00.000-08:00

Nobody walks on the water to get to Bklyn,

but they act that way

coming across the East River as though it

were an ocean, coming from Manhattan expecting

a different language

talking of the trip from East B’way to York St. as if they had

just finished a journey on the Siberian railroad

once out of Moscow everything was better

Nobody needs to be born again to reach Hoyt St. and

Schermerhorn

but a friend once thumbed his way to Manhattan

from Seattle in winter only to tell me Bklyn was

too far to travel by subway

and a poet who’s lived for years

on a lonely farm in Maine talks

of Park Slope as if they hoist

supplies up to us on a rope

Nobody has to be baptized or circumsized to come to Jay St.

but ask any cabbie on 42^nd St. to take you there and

watch the tremble, or look of distant pity while

Off duty signs pop up like firecrackers

I’ve lived in Bklyn for 10 years

And I’m tired of being treated like a foreigner.

I tell you it has to stop.

Nobody has to part the waters to walk on

Atlantic Avenue. Bklyn is a part of New York City.

Stop treating us like we lived in Staten Island.

Being Jennifer Holder

2010-04-14T10:58:00.000-07:00

So, obviously, my name is common. And not just Jennifer, but the combination of both names.

There is a Jennifer Holder who is an anime voice actor. I've considered trying to live in her shadow and get into exclusive anime parties or voice acting jobs. Someday this will happen. There are other Jennifer Holder's all over the place - in book publishing, restaurants, banks...

But over the past year or so I've had a few run-ins with a Jennifer Holder who is apparently an idiot. (Okay, I'm perhaps going a little too far. Obviously, all Jennifer Holder's are geniuses, considering I am, right?) Either way, she keeps putting MY email address down on random job applications and her American Airlines Advantage Number. Now, I have written back to the job applications and called American Airlines because I'd hate for her not to have her tickets when she's flying around. (I would say I'd hate for her to not get the job, but as soon as I write back and let them know they have the wrong Jennifer, they have to know that she is obviously too stupid to know her own email address and therefore wouldn't hire her. I hope.)

But, this. This is not something I'm willing to give up. I've decided to now take advantage of her using my email. Who's up for a trip to Dallas to get a free appetizer?

Cupcake Camp NYC

2010-04-10T13:01:00.000-07:00

Last night I attempted to go to Cupcake Camp NYC, an event with FREE CUPCAKES in the Lower East Side at Happy Ending. I stood in line for almost an hour to take part in this event, but never made it inside. It was apparently so packed in there you could barely move. At one point there was a displaced looking woman walking around carrying an empty pan and talking on her cell phone saying "My cupcakes are already gone! It's a mad house in there." Lucky for me, my faithful friends Laurel and Lauren brought me cupcakes from inside so I didn't have to try and force myself in. They volunteered and apparently had first dibs on every cupcake that entered the building!

But waiting in line was worth it. While I was there, a homeless man approached me to find out what everyone was awaiting.
HM: What's going on in there?! Led Zepplin?!
ME: Yes, it's a Led Zepplin concert.
HM: No! Really? What's goin on in there?!
ME: Free cupcakes. Much better than Led Zepplin.
HM: You're jerking my chain.You people are all standing in line for FREE cupcakes?
ME: Yes.
HM: Are they the best cupcakes in the world or something? I don't believe you!
ME: They're definitely good.
HM: What is that paper in your hand?
ME: My ticket.
HM: I don't believe you. What does that ticket say "Free cupcakes"?
I showed him the ticket, which said "Cupcake Camp NYC" and he said, "All right, you win," threw his hands up and walked away.

Later I heard a ton of people having the same conversation with confused people who were walking by. "You mean it's not someone famous?!" Those conversations definitely put it in perspective for me. I mean, a HOMELESS man thought it was ridiculous to stand in line for almost an hour for free cupcakes.Then I realized that all a homeless person needs is the internet. There is free food all the time in New York, you just gotta be able to find it!

After all of that, when Laurel and Lauren finally made it out of there with cupcakes in hand, I only had one. I just wasn't too hungry for cupcakes anymore. Although I was excited that the cupcake I chose had a Tagalog sticking out of it. It was a rich chocolate cupcake with peanut butter in the middle...and it was delicious. Totally worth the wait.

Boat Guy

2009-11-07T10:21:00.000-08:00

On the way back from our trip to Europe, we encountered an older man, probably in his 50s or 60s sitting near us on the plane. We named him "Boat Guy," because at the beginning of our flight, he was looking at boats online on his mac.

Later in the flight, Laurel and I played M.A.S.H. so as to keep ourselves awake, and also because it was hilarious. Unfortunately, my results were rather dismal: I was to marry Boat Guy.

Even later in the flight (this flight was a connection flight from Raleigh to NYC, so it was actually quite short), Laurel and I both noticed that BG was typing furiously on his keyboard. I assumed that his profession was that of an author, or that he just really likes to journal his experiences.

Then Laurel gave me a look. She was closer to BG and had seen what he was typing. She was giggling, and I forced my camera, zoomed in, into her hands. She took a picture, and below is what he was typing. Click on the picture to read it.

In essence, yes, he his an author. Of EROTIC FICTION. And terribly written erotic fiction at that. When the steward made him put his computer away, BG was visibly upset. He was obviously in the middle of a fit of inspiration and couldn't be bothered.

He closed out his Microsoft Word, and as he was turning off his computer, we got a glimpse of his background: a picture of him, his wife, and his two children.

Simply put, I can't wait to marry him.

Atlantic Antic

2009-10-05T21:00:00.000-07:00

This past Sunday was Brooklyn's infamous Atlantic Antic, which I had never been to (and therefore never truly lived in Brooklyn, but that's fine considering I just moved here from Queens in March).

We went to check out the digs, which included...

A snake, and a little girl who was having a staring contest with me...

The weirdest tribute to Patrick Swayze I've ever seen. I really wonder what the sign was before he passed...

And some old timey buses...

I wanted to get a shot of the Jackie Gleason Depot bus, but my camera died. It was a bus that had JACKIE GLEASON DEPOT on the front. Click "Yes" if you find this description redundant.

All in all, it was successful. I ate BBQ and Blue Marble ice cream, Laurel had some tasty pizza, and Adam found the perfect desk chair at an antique shop.

Timely Manner = Two Years

2009-10-05T14:04:00.000-07:00

so i applied for a job at the metropolitan museum of art 2 years ago, and JUST got this email.

way to be, mma. way to be.

Anti-Stress Videos

2009-10-01T15:36:00.000-07:00

They're all a bit old; some recently discovered and others I revert back to on occassion.

See more funny videos and funny pictures at CollegeHumor.

Mayer Hawthorne - Just Ain't Gonna Work Out from Stones Throw on Vimeo.

See more funny videos and funny pictures at CollegeHumor.

Love in Old Age

2009-09-21T21:27:00.000-07:00

From One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez:

Aureliano Segundo thought without saying so that the evil was not in the world but in some hidden place in the mysterious heart of Petra Cotes, where something had happened during the deluge that had turned the animals sterile and made money scarce. Intrigued by the enigma, he dug so deeply into her sentiments that in search of interest he found love, because by trying to make her love him he ended up falling in love with her. Petra Cotes, for her part, loved him more and more as she felt his love increasing, and that was how in the ripeness of autumn she began to believe once more in the youthful superstition that poverty was the servitude of love. Both looked back then on the wild revelry, the gaudy wealth, and the unbridled fornication as an annoyance and they lamented that it had cost them so much of their lives to find the paradise of shared solitude. Madly in love after so many years of sterile complicity, they enjoyed the miracle of loving each other as much at the table as in bed, and they grew to be so happy that even when they were two worn-out old people they kept on blooming like little children and playing together like dogs.

yummy quiche

2009-09-15T14:11:00.000-07:00

I made this delicious quiche Sunday for our Sunday Supper Club. That's right, we have a Sunday Supper Club. If anyone wants to join, let me know. It doesn't mean you'll get to, but you can let me know that you want to. BAHAHA.

Word Searches

2009-09-14T13:07:00.000-07:00

This morning on the subway, I saw a guy doing a word search that looked like this:
Obviously, he doesn't know the "rules" of crossword puzzles. However, I must now give him credit because that was really hard for me to imitate, because I kept just finding the words spelled out as they're supposed to be: vertically, horizontally, and diagonally. Maybe he's a genius and was so bored with the way normal word searches are, he decided to challenge himself.

Or maybe not.

Race for the Cure in Central Park

2009-09-13T12:55:00.000-07:00

We did it! Laurel ran, and I walked.

Radio Silence

2009-07-31T22:34:00.000-07:00

I don’t listen to the radio.

In fact, I would assume that a majority of Americans no longer listen to the radio, perhaps with the exception of NPR.

However, I say this living in a city that isn’t quite radio friendly. In New York, it’s not like you can carry around a radio with you while riding the subway. Or at least, I assume that the radio waves can’t make down there, considering cell phones can’t.

You can listen to the radio on a podcast, but even then it’s not quite the same. You can’t sift between stations when an ad comes on, and you can’t sing along – which might be the most important part.

When I come to LA, I always forget to bring either an iPod adapter (which I don’t even own, so it’s not that much of a surprise that I would forget it) or some CDs to listen to in the rental car.

This trip I DID bring a CD that I had just purchased at brunch the other day – a NYC band called “Baby Soda” who I simply loved. However, when our car broke down I completely forgot to retrieve the CD and must now call tomorrow to see if they found it. I’ll be quite sad to lose it, and I hadn’t added it to my multiple devices yet.

Either way, LA usually means a lot of listening to terrible radio stations. Honestly, trying to find a radio station you can relate to is like finding a significant other.

You surf through the channels over and over and once you land on one that sounds familiar or interesting, you realize that it’s either just about to end as quickly as it started or it’s in a language you don’t recognize. Then it starts to get boring during the commercials so you give up and start surfing for more. If there was one song on the station that you enjoyed before the commercial break, you try to remember said station to try again later. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.

For the most part, I end up turning the radio off for a while and leave myself with my own thoughts, much like my dating life.

But I like it that way.

Caffeine Overdrive

2009-07-30T23:17:00.001-07:00

This is from a few trips ago to LA, but very much like the airplane ride I just took. Damn kids.

For my 8:30am flight from New York to Los Angeles, I came prepared to sleep. I was completely unprepared for the trip, and spent most of the night dreaming of things I forgot to do, only to wake up every 30 minutes and write them down. I know that I still didn’t do everything I was supposed to, mainly because I couldn’t read my dream filled handwriting. I’m still not exactly sure what “Take alligator repellent” means.

While waiting to board the plane, I saw one hindrance to my sleep plan: a 5-year-old boy holding a Grande Mocha Frappucino with whip. As a longstanding customer of Starbucks, I know my frappucinos, so much so that anti-Starbucks militia would probably throw cheaper coffee on my over-caffeinated body like I was wearing fur and they were carrying fake blood. And any idiot who has ever been to a Starbucks could safely this boy were going to stay awake for the duration of the 6 hour flight. Undoubtedly, the kid sat directly behind me and his mother and father, for some reason separated, sat all around me, so the kid was free to run back and forth in the aisles screaming about god knows what.

Strangely enough, this didn’t start happening until well into the flight, when I was dead asleep dreaming I was on a bus being taken to a Hertz station that looked like a federal penitentiary. And I had to wait there for my boss. For 6 hours.

Luckily, the screaming children and the annoying high schooler on her way to soccer camp, who kept elbowing me because she had obviously never flown in a plane in her whole entire life, woke me up.

That dream was awful and my body was definitely uncomfortable, and I still had another three hours of flight time. Additionally, now that the caffeine had kicked in, so had the boy’s ability to kick the back of my chair.

See, when I was little, I wasn’t allowed caffeine. I needed a lot of it when I landed in LA.

watch out for jaguars on 19th street

2009-07-23T08:47:00.000-07:00

grandma got mad skating skillz

2009-06-29T10:49:00.000-07:00

Want to play chicken?

2009-06-14T08:13:00.001-07:00

Yesterday, Laurel and I woke up with the desire to venture to the park. However, the moment we stepped outside and looked up, we realized that at any point, the sky was going to break open. So we walked faster.

We finally reached the park and after scoring some tasty Mint Iced Tea sweetened with Maple Syrup, we stretched our blanket out on the ground. Laurel went for a run, and I settled in to listening to my iPod and writing/doodling. After listening to an entire album (The Juno Soundtrack), I glanced up. There was a little boy playing with a Nerf rocket launcher and he was shooting at two women walking by, and he was giggling ferociously. His balding, slightly heavy father was trying desperately to talk to said women, while juggling.

I laughed to myself and whipped out my magazine. It started to mist, but I figured if there was a heavy downpour, I would just meet Laurel under a tree or something. Then I realized something: Laurel wasn't back yet. She told me she was only going to run a short run, and I've lived with her long enough to know that means 15-30 minutes tops. It had been at least an hour. I checked my phone and decided that if she was not back in another hour, I had to find a police officer. I put up all of my reading material and (probably looking either creepy or crazy), proceeded to scour the four corners surrounding my blanket. I did so for about 30-40 minutes, when she finally showed up, safe. She commented she got lost, and saw a side of the park she had never seen before and that we should go. Problem was, she hadn't the faintest idea where it was.

We decided to pack up camp and head back. We went to the new Beri Outlet to see if we wanted to purchase anything. After leaving empty handed, we decided to continue walking down Classon, so that we could see if Choice Atlantic was open, and that I could get some Iced Coffee and a snack. When we were walking, I saw a sign that said "Live Chickens." I immediately commented that if I looked in this open warehouse, I was going to be sick. But of course, curiosity took over, and I turned my head. There was a glass booth to the right of the building with a sign that said "CASH ONLY" and then to the left, there they were. Probably about 15 stacks of chicken coops, all ready for the taking.

Choice Atlantic was, of course, closed, so I decided to venture into Michael Allen Desserts. Nice choice. We then got ready for the evening. We were going to Tiny's Giant Sandwich Shop and out for a while before a 9:40 showing of Moon. The food at Tiny's, yet again, was superb, but I was still starving. I had a Black and White cupcake from Sugar Sweet Sunshine and later ate a rice krispie treat. I'm always hungry.

Welcome to the Johnson's was (for once) not crowded, so we scored a couch seat and sat down. There was a man at the bar who Laurel and I decided was a daredevil. He had a neck brace and hand brace on. We were making comments about how to pick him up ("How much mobility do you get with that thing?" "Can I help you with physical therapy?") when the dude took off his neck brace and put it around his thigh. Immediately disinterested.

We then ventured to St. Jerome's, probably my favorite bar in the LES - at least when it's early. It's always really dark, and there is no real sign, but there is always something awesome playing on the projector, usually a rock documentary, or if they are playing a movie (they were playing "Ice Age" and then "Road House" one time), the music over it is damn good too. Either way, the bartender was a dude we met about 7 months ago...I think his name is Jeremy. He didn't remember us, of course. We were with a few people, and well, he has no real reason to.

Finally we got to our final destination: Seeing Moon at Landmark Sunshine. I was extremely excited to see this movie. I had attempted the night before, but it was sold out. However, this time, we had a our tickets in hand. The nice attendant ripped my ticket, and I said "MOON!" and he said "You are beautiful." He had sight problems, and I wish I was kidding...but he did. While everyone waited in line to secure seats, I ventured up the the bathroom. There were two pint sized older ladies in front of me, talking about the movie they had just seen. A woman in front of them turned around and started commenting, and they proceeded to break down the entire movie. I still have no idea what movie they were talking about, but apparently it was "thought provoking", "beautiful" and "awe insipiring." I probably won't see it.

Moon is a pretty good sci-fi movie. The director, David Bowie's son, introduced it. I saw him standing outside the doors of the theatre before I went in, and he was talking about how nervous he was and thanking someone for having him. I was like "Thank you for having me to! It was my pleasure to pay $13. I'm nervous I'm broke." Luckily, I said none of these things out loud, as I hadn't the slightest clue who he was and assumed he was just another theater goer like me.

Either way, if you have the desire to see Moon, follow through with it. It's a good movie, and Sam Rockwell is great in it. I don't like it when people give me premises of movies, so I'm just going to link the trailer. However, as a warning, the trailer gives a lot away. So, let me give you three seconds of a premise. A man has a 3-year contract to work by himself on the Moon. Stuff happens.

After the movie, we ventured to Local 138. It's a good bar if you just want to relax and don't want to be hit on. That's exactly how I always feel. However, someone we were with wanted to have a little bit more fun, so we went to Arlene's Grocery. After dancing our way through the crowd, we spotted seats in the back. We sat down, and a dude came over to get his guitar. He made a comment that it was his date for the evening. I laughed. He then leaned over and told me that I "had the look." I couldn't quite make out everything he was saying, but at one point he shoved his ass in my face. I guess...he wanted me to smack it? Weird. Either way, he then told me I had the look a few more times, and started to walk away. I yelled, "Have fun with your girlfriend!" and he ran back to tell me he doesn't have one. I pointed to the guitar on his back. He said "Oh yeah, her. If I had a girlfriend she wouldn't be as pretty as you," and he bit his fingers and walked away. For the life of me, I still cannot figure out if he was making fun of me. He was a cute guy, albeit extremely weird.

Leaving Laurel and everyone to whatever they were going to do for the night, I checked out. After desperately seeking a cab, I decided I would just walk to the C. However, on the way, I spotted an open cab so I hopped in. The entire way home ($14.20), the cabbie told me about every experience he or his friends had with seeing people get hit by cars. Two girls were run over on Houston and 1st Ave. Two other girls on 46th St and 7th Ave were hit, one was fine, the other was propelled against a wall. An older couples limbs were ripped apart on 28th St and 9th Ave (which prompted a separate conversation about a gay club where there is oil wrestling and biker dudes. The guy seemed to know a LOT about this bar). During the trip, he turned left on red, and we almost got hit by a line of taxis, he slowed down in the middle of the street to show me a car that was totaled, and sped up through a yellow light yelling to me that it was illegal. When I got out of the car, he motioned for me to walk in front of his cab although the light for him was green. I smiled politely and walked behind him. I'm just glad he didn't put it in reverse.

i totes did.

2009-05-28T08:15:00.000-07:00

F**king a Mermaid from Jennifer Holder on Vimeo.

CAT MAN

2009-04-27T15:46:00.002-07:00

SPOTTED: Cat Man in Prospect Park.

he had a cat on a leash, which of course goes against all things cats stand for. and he was dumping water on its head, which of course, it was FLIPPING out, because it's a CAT. then he started brushing it. then to everyone's surprise, he pulls ANOTHER CAT out of that black bag on his shoulder. seriously, look at how he is holding that bag, would you have thought a cat was in it? he was dumping water on it, while the other one was trying to get away. as far as we could tell, he was trying to sell the cats, but no one was buying. then when the cat on the leash wouldn't walk with him, he picked it up and carried it, cooing to it saying 'when we get home, we're going to watch spongebob.' so if you want a cat to dump water on, throw in a bag and watch spongebob with, give this dude a call at 718-CAT-MAN1.

BONER PARTY

2009-04-22T10:35:00.000-07:00

SPOTTED: Banana hammock g-string in Brooklyn Bridge Park

he was applying lotion so that he tans evenly. Wish I had gotten him bent over applying lotion under his g-string. Walker was embarrassed, and tried to be incognito by putting Laurel's hat and my sunglasses on. It kind of just makes him look like a douchey hipster, I mean, awesome.

hope this letter finds you well

2009-02-27T15:45:00.000-08:00

Dear R Train,

I'm sorry, but it's over.

After a year and a half of back and forths, wobbly roads, and a lot of impatient waiting, I am moving on. And I want you to know that the C and I are starting to see each other.

Don't get me wrong, I've enjoyed our time together. You're clean, reliable, and relatively good looking, but the C is just closer to my new house and work, and therefore more convenient. I know it's shorter, but sometimes a little less isn't so bad, and so far the C always crowds me, but sometimes I need that in life. You never seemed to care as much. You always came too quickly before I could get downstairs, at least the C will wait for me to get there first.

Also, I wanted you to know that sometimes on late nights... I, well....frankly, I cheated on you with the E. I don't know what it was... I know the E is ugly, really slow, and very seldom reliable, but you weren't around at night when I needed something there for me to help me get home safely. As for the other trains, we're all just friends, despite what the V has been telling you.

You've been good to me, and I appreciate it. I can't say I won't miss you, and I promise I'll visit sometimes. I'll stop by and say Hi if I need to go to SoHo or the Flatiron Building, but I can always take the W if it's too awkward.

I will always hold a special place in my heart for you. You introduced me to this city, and hell, if it doesn't work out with the C, maybe I'll be back for you.

Love,
Jennifer

top 5 songs of the moment

2008-12-12T13:21:00.000-08:00

I literally CANNOT stop listening to them...in no particular order. And I know none of them are necessarily new, but whatevs. I'm addicted right now.

1. MIA - Paper Planes. You've all heard it (all 3 people who read this ever). But from the first second I heard this song (months and months and months ago EVERYWHERE), I've been hooked. I never stop disliking it. No matter what! And I just was revived with seeing Slumdog - which is AMAZING.

2. Beyonce - Single Ladies. The dance is just. so. addictive.

3. T.I. - Whatever You Like. Ok, I first of all I LOVE T.I. SO MUCH IT'S SCARY (I guess I just like dudes that are about to go to jail). But this song, for some weird reason - I just really like it.

4. Concrete and Clay - Unit 4 + 2. I know this song is old and I've heard it 1,000 times, but this song is the song of my future. I just love it. It just cheers me up walking to work.

5. Noah and the Whale - 2 Atoms in a Molecule.

Last night, I had a dream
We were inseparably entwined
Like a piece of rope made out of two pieces of vine
Held together, holding each other
With no one else in mind

Like two atoms in a molecule
Inseparably combined

But then I woke from the dream
To realise I was alone
A tragic event, I must admit
But let's not be overblown
I'm not trying to write a love song
Just a sad, pathetic moan

And maybe I just need change
Maybe I just need a new cologne

But now I look at love
Like being stabbed in the heart
You torture each other from day to day
And then one day you part
Most of the time it's misery
But there's some joy at the start
And for that, I'd say it's worth it
Just use a blade that's short and sharp on me

And if love is just a game
Then how come it's no fun?
If love is just a game
How come I've never won?
I guess maybe it's possible I might be playing it wrong
And that's why every time I roll the dice
I always come undone

cut and paste this

2008-12-08T20:02:00.001-08:00

a few months ago i wanted to make this a cut and paste blog, but i never have my camera on me anymore...and i never see any awesome cut and paste action in the subways anymore either

but then two months ago i read this article in ny mag.

and about two months ago i meant to post it...but better late than never, right? either way...i think it's better to look out for that dude's "sporadically updated flickr account," rather than this blog. especially considering i never see any cut and paste, and i never update this blog.

things that happened in LA

2008-08-04T15:11:00.000-07:00

i...

1. vomited in the bathroom at cbs films.

2. experienced an earthquake in the middle of said vomit.

3. caused a minor collision as the result of said vomit and earthquake (but we had full insurance on our rental, so we're good).

4. asked matthew gray gubler in the middle the farmer's market on 3rd and fairfax where the bathroom was. then went back and talked to him for a second. (no one knows who he is, right? well, he's hot, funny (here's his website, and some fake documentaries he made), and on one of those stupid CBS crime dramas.)

5. ate approximately 4 hamburgers (1 from in & out, 3 from 25 degrees), 3 burritos/quesadillas, and a whole bunch of other crap.

6. played 'whose boobs are fake?!' by the pool at the roosevelt.

7. made friends with the security guard in the backlot at kimmel. we might play poker some time.

8. ran around like my head was cut off from meeting to meeting.

which example applies to you?

2008-07-07T10:02:00.000-07:00

they're rather intent on me specifying my gender.

do you see what i see?

2008-07-03T09:09:00.001-07:00

teleporting to your buttcrack

2008-05-19T14:22:00.000-07:00

i'm sorry but we had to take the latter one.

it's just too hilarious to pass up.

ladies, please watch out if you're going to wear an extremely short dress.

oh, spitzer!

2008-05-15T15:51:00.001-07:00

(picture by laurel :) )

oh ALSO - you should go here and buy some cool duds. i bought a tote bag and it's pretty sweet. barackolli obama, baby. greg and liz made them...

to warn against it...

2008-03-07T10:23:00.001-08:00

means that someone actually did it, right?

flashback time!

2008-03-05T21:31:00.000-08:00

last weekend, dj jazzy jeff spun at the american museum of natural history. met some cute intoxicated foreigners. danced to a mixture of everything, and enjoyed some dj jazzy and fresh prince look alikes dance even more.

also - as you might have read on brett's blog - we went to see jurassic park: the play. it was rather awesome, amazing, perfect, minus the hipsters adorned in plaid shirts and more layers than tiramisu.

perfectly insecure

2008-02-25T19:42:00.000-08:00

how can a woman be expected to be happy with a man who insists on treating her as if she were a perfectly normal human being? - oscar wilde

i've sat around the past week or so feeling sorry for myself.

for some reason, every time i look in the mirror, i'm disgusted. i've gained a little weight around the tummy area, my hair is simply unmanageable, and my face - as usual - looks like a 12-year-old boy's pimply bottom. i've stared blankly into the black hole of my skin thinking how gross i am, wondering if "any boy will ever love me" and if "my personality can make up for my unsightliness." i bought makeup, contemplated a new shampoo, and put on fancy-shmancy clothes. still, nothing. (and let me tell you, alcohol doesn't help either)

i've seen all those dove ads about self-esteem and how the media is wrong (and would absolutely kill to work for their company), and yet, i don't believe it for myself. i've told my friends there is absolutely nothing wrong with them, that every guy who didn't want them was most certainly not worth in the first place, and yet, of course, i don't believe it for myself. i've told many of my friends also that there is absolutely nothing wrong with their body, and yet, when i look in the mirror, all i see is imperfection. again, i don't believe it for myself.

but yet - we get to my favorite issue. what the hell is "perfection"?

it's a feminist's bitch of a battle. it's an older woman's long-standing struggle. it's a "fat" woman's biggest nightmare. perfection. perfect skin, perfect hair, perfect body. and somehow they're all "t" words: thin, tall, tan, toned, tiny, tits, and of course, tender (okay - young, but i really love alliteration). what about other words? like talented, intelligent, articulate, cultured, wise, natural? why do have to fit in this little box? yet again, i struggle to understand our need for perfection. and yet i am the first one to notice a stretch mark on my inner thigh, or britney spears' most recent weight gain. why do i CARE, let alone NOTICE?

of course, the issues here aren't just about my body. i'm completely and utterly insecure in every single way imaginable, just like everyone on the face of the earth (yes, even george clooney is insecure about something).

yesterday, my mother called me to get something off her chest, and i slightly interrupted, whining about how everyone i know in new york is engaged or married and how i don't think i'll ever be one of those girls. i told her i didn't think anyone would put up with my shit. i could see the frown on her face through the phone, "you don't know that." she had just spent 10 minutes telling me how everyone keeps expecting her to make their life better, and here i was doing the same damn thing. i then commented how i didn't want to change, not for anyone. that maybe i was a slight bitch, but i didn't want to change. of course, my mother simply said, "sometimes you have to change." by her tone, i could tell she meant it. i cried a little when i disconnected. all i wanted was my mother to tell me that i was beautiful and special, and yet - she did exactly what she should have - she smacked me over the head with honesty.

she's probably right, but i don't want to change. in fact, the only thing that should change is my insecurity, unhappiness and complete and utter ungratefulness. there is nothing wrong with embracing confidence, beauty, and of course, humility.

and just for the record, i'm not settling for some dude who will never treat me as the insane and flawed person i am. and neither should you - that goes for women and men. you're beautiful, and i love you. be who you are, and never sacrifice it.

how about that for some good ole fashioned women empowerment?

D to the C

2008-02-19T10:44:00.000-08:00

laurel and i went to DC this weekend to visit da beez, guitar playing joe, and an '80s band member.

long story short, the following things happened:

1. a little kid on the bus on the way down say about 15 times "those aren't trees," pointing at...trees.

2. we saw ROBOTS. one played the trumpet, one walked up and down stairs, and one was the proudest geisha in the world.

3. we saw an '80s cover band call the legwarmers. laurel almost got in a fist fight. liz danced like gob during "final countdown." and i rubbed against a guy wearing a Booger t-shirt.

4. we hugged the washington monument.

5. we saw lincoln's hat, the polio vaccine, and R2D2 and C3PO while dancing and singing Prince.

6. we got trashed at a seedy bar, subsequently landing us at an equally seedy bar, where laurel and i were kissed by a gay dude dressed like a bumblebee. i got a lap dance as well.

7. we saw PANDA BEARS. i decided that while no one was looking, they had panda raves.

8. we said hi to stephen colbert's portrait.

9. on the way home, laurel and i fell asleep and were woken up by the sound of the door almost falling off the bus.

oh, and i decided that if the trains ever run past midnight, i'm moving to DC.

please, studio heads, hear my earnest plea

2008-01-24T11:35:00.001-08:00

okay - you can say tv is evil, but i don't give a shit. i miss it.

IN FACT

last night, i missed tv so much that
i actually watched a couple minutes of NANCY GRACE (which was all about poor ledger)
an entire episode of drake and josh
a disney channel original movie from 2000 called "up, up and away!"
and then project runway, even though i vowed not to because it's so BORING this season.

oh yeah, and i went to bed at 11.

PLEASE GIVE THE WRITERS WHAT THEY WANT.

another reason to stay away from chinatown

2008-01-23T15:45:00.000-08:00

there has to be a REASON to post this sign in the post office, right?

and in two languages at that.

DeFord Bailey was amazing.

2008-01-22T12:09:00.000-08:00

I came across this article that I wrote for the magazine I worked for this summer. Since the magazine only published part of it, here is the rest. This man should be honored by everyone. It's a tad dated as the garden opened in the summer some time, but you get the idea.

“The black and the white – all want to hear the same tune.”

The words of DeFord Bailey will forever be immortalized in country music. An African-American harmonica player, DeFord was the first person to EVER perform on the Grand Ole Opry after it was renamed and one of the first people to be recorded in Music City, USA – Nashville.

This summer, EarthMatters Tennessee, a non-profit group dedicated to organic growing methods, opened the DeFord Bailey Tribute Garden at the George W. Carver Food Park in Nashville. The garden features close to 300 roses – all named after famous songs such as Ring of Fire and Tennessee Waltz, and country stars including Dolly Parton, Amy Grant, Pam Tillis, and the newest addition, DeFord Bailey.

“All of my life, I’ve heard people talk about DeFord Bailey and the great contribution he has made to country music,” says Parton. “He was one of a kind, and his memory will live on forever. A tribute garden in his name is a wonderful idea, and I am so proud to have a Dolly Parton rose in his garden.”

Added to the collection were flowers dedicated to Patsy Cline, Janice Wendell, and Brenda Lee. As Frankie Staton, Urban Country Showcase founder and 25-year music veteran, says, “This garden will serve as a harmonious place to be inspired while sitting among nature and reflecting on the lives of the people honored here – a place to come and be refreshed and inspired. ”

The DeFord Bailey Tribute Garden is part of an effort throughout Nashville to pay much overdue honor to this influential artist. “We can’t care about what we don’t know about it,” says country singer Pam Tillis. “And it’s so important to know about the firsts that DeFord was involved with – the first recording session in Nashville, sang the first song on the Grand Ole Opry. He is such a part of history it’s unbelievable. And more people need to know the DeFord Bailey legacy, it’s so important and this garden is certainly a step in that direction.”

DeFord, called the “Harmonica Wizard” by “Judge” George D. Hays, was always a musician. Born in 1899 in Smith County, Tenn., 40 miles from Nashville, DeFord lost his mother at a very young age. His Aunt Barbara Lou raised him, bestowing upon him his very first harmonica. When he was three, he contracted polio and was bound to the bed for at least a year, only able to use his hands and head. This is where he perfected his harmonica, or as he called it, harp, skills. Lying in bed and listening to the sounds of farm life – from roosters crowing to horses neighing – Bailey began to imitate them, capturing his signature style.

He was especially known for his imitation of trains. “Some people can play the train,” he once said, “but they can’t move like I do. Most of theirs sound like they’re running, but the sound is standing in one place too long. You can tell my train is moving. Every time I blow, you can tell I’m getting further. It’s moving out of sight as I blow. When I get about 115 miles an hour, I can feel it. My normal speed is 95 miles an hour. That don’t feel like I’m doing nothing, but my train sure enough moves along.”

Kathy Conkwright, who researched, wrote and produced a documentary called, “DeFord Bailey: A Legend Lost” in 2005, says that she first became interested in DeFord mainly because he talked about something called “black hillbilly music.”

“Being from the south, I never really attributed – I always thought that country music came from white rural folks,” Conkwright says. “Dr. Charles Wolf at [Middle Tennessee State University] explained to me that African Americans have been singing this musical genre that we now call country roots music for decades. In fact, many of the most influential first country music starts were mentored by African American musicians including Jimmy Rogers and the Carter Family.”

DeFord was not only an influence for other performers, but he was also instrumental in naming the Grand Ole Opry. Preceding that night’s show was an opera, with the last song the sounds of a locomotive. As DeFord was the first that night, coming on to play his Pan American Blues, Judge Hays said, “We’ve just heard grand opera, now you’re gonna hear Grand Opry.”

In 1928, DeFord became a regular on the Opry stage, appearing twice as much as the other performers. Also that year, he cut eight sides for RCA Victor, placing him among the very first recording sessions that ever took place in Nashville. During this time, he met and married his wife, Ida Lee and had three children, DeFord Jr., Dezoral Lee, and Christine Lamb.

With the stock market crash of 1929, DeFord became an entrepreneur, starting a barbeque shop and a shoe shine shop. Then, to make ends meet, he began to tour with other Opry greats, such as Roy Acuff and Uncle Dave Macon. This proved difficult for DeFord, as being an African American in rural south often did, but he persevered.

“Often times he was forced to wait back stage between performances alone because it was illegal to socialize with white associates,” says Conkwright. “Sometimes Uncle Dave Macon would tell hotel owners that he was his valet, so that he could sleep insides. Acuff once snuck him in to a hotel in an instrument case. When he was not so lucky, he was forced to sleep outside, eat meals outside, and was regulated to a second class citizen.”

In 1941, DeFord was forced to leave the Opry, which still regarded as one of the most controversial and interesting aspects of the famous show. Once again, however, DeFord persevered. He worked full time in his shoe shine shop, continuing to play at home.
He once said, “I played for walls and God to continue playing.”

DeFord would only make four more appearances on the Grand Ole Opry stage, prompted by his good friend, biographer David Morton. He had plenty of offers for other engagements, but turned them all down – convinced everyone was trying to swindle him. DeFord died on July 2, 1982.

Morton wrote his biography in 1991, and in 2005, over 75 years after he first took the stage, DeFord was finally inducted into the Country Music Hall of Fame. “I first thought this was going to be a story about a music talent, someone who knows how to master his instrument and contributed to American music history,” Conkwright says. “But very soon, as I began to learn more and more about this man, I just couldn’t believe what he’s been able to do and give, not just to the music history, but to history in general. He was someone that encapsulated the true character and bravery and courage of an American.”

Listen here. Seriously, he was amazing.

i actually did something besides watching "lost"

2008-01-13T20:46:00.000-08:00

laurel and i had quite an adventure saturday.

it started in hell's kitchen. while waiting for her, i decided to stop by a rite aid and send miss nutt a birthday card. the wind was blowing, so i decided to stay near the mailbox that i put her card in, which was located a few feet from the corner of 50th and 8th.

as i stood there, two things happened. first of all, a man walked over to the mailbox, opened it, looked in, and then closed it. in his hand were a few pieces of mail. he started to walk away, and then stopped, turning as if the mailbox was talking to him. he then opened it again, put his mail in, closed it, and walked away. he rounded the corner, then came rushing back. he looked in again. i believe he was sure that the mailbox was just going to eat it.

then something else happened. something much more new york - two women smoked crack in a telephone booth. one at a time. a cop car passed by and i thought they were going to run, but they didn't. they played it cool, and then continued to smoke. best experience of my life, except that i also thought they were going to kill me.

laurel met me and we went over to arriba, arriba (a mexican place that is supposedly delicious and has an awesome brunch), but as we were walking, we passed vynl and went in there instead (to read more about vynl stay tuned to http://whoatethebigapple.blogspot.com). food was grrreat, and the atmosphere was even better.

then we went to meet brett for the "no pants subway ride." we didn't participate, but we did see a lot of underwear. it was quite fun, honestly. we just sat in the station watching the different 6 trains pass with half-naked people, and all the other people's reactions. soon, brett went home to change, and laurel and i decided to go around union square and find me something a little warmer to wear (hence my brand new yellow jacket). then we had smores and wine at a bar. (okay, so it was cosi, but still, it was funny). this older woman, who everyone that worked there knew her name, sat there and tried to make conversation, but she seemed a little too gone for real conversation. she was breathtaken by the smores. she said she had never seen them before, ever. she was a little crazy, but i liked her.

afterwards, we went downtown to meet brett at the sci-fi art show opening at MF Gallery (which stands for monsterface, not motherfucker as we once thought). needless to say, it was awesome. there was a captain crunch monster/alien painting that i loved, and another one titled 'ghost doctor,' that was just a ghost with a doctor coat. my fave was an old paned window with different aliens sticking out. i can't quite remember what the name of it was, but i loved it. i would have purchased it if i had $200 lying around, but i decided it was best that i leave it.

we walked next door to st. jerome's, which is quite possibly the best bar i've been to in new york. it was clean, the bartender was super hot, and when we walked in a ramones documentary had just finished. oh, yeah, and the well drinks were only TWO DOLLARS. and they were big and got me drunk quickly. let's just say that i love st. jerome's and suggest everyone go there. i'm sure we'll talk soon about the bar in our blog as well.

brett left to go karaoking (so jealous), and laurel and i decided to drunkenly make our way to the lit lounge to dance. we finally made it, but unfortunately, there was no dancing - just a really bad band that cost $6. we left after enduring a few songs (i think their name was 'guitar and cymbal' or something, no offense if you ever google yourselves and see this, but i just was not a fan).

so we walked a few more blocks and went to beauty bar to dance. we got there about 11, but the back wasn't open yet, and it was packed. i asked this greaser-type bartender (super cute and dirty) when the dancing would begin and he said shortly, so we just waited. while waiting, i attempted to get a drink, and this fucker with plugs was rather rude to me when i asked him a question. the back finally opened up and laurel and i went back to sit down and observe. there were guys on the prowl, an australian who was wearing the shiniest shirt i have ever seen, and these two chicks with blue wigs who obviously thought they were hot. laurel and i decided to act only interested in each other, and every time some creepy dude tried to rub up on us, we moved quickly to the other side. then we decided together that we had two things we needed to do before we left the bar. one - pinch hot greaser bartender's ass. two - rip the wig off one of the blue girl's heads (they were super annoying).

soon we soon got tired of dancing and the general douche attitude of everyone there, and decided to vamoose. i didn't see the greaser, but i decided that i didn't care that much. but then - as we turned to walk out, i saw my two missions in front of me, the blue haired girl and directly after her was the greaser. immediately, i shoved into the blue haired girl, to which she said something like "oh my!" and then i reached down and grabbed the greaser's ass. he turned to look at me and all i said was "oops! sorry!" and kept walking. oh, and outside one of the married guys was talking to like three girls about "meeting up with some friends." i just yelled "he's married!" and kept going.

i decided to take the long way home and ride the N, as it was a very nice night. i was going to call some west coast peeps, but i decided instead to get falafel and listen to music. i simply love astoria. granted, i hate the greeks constantly yelling out at me as i walk, but i don't ever feel threatened. i just don't want to date them.

dogs are da best

2008-01-10T20:32:00.001-08:00

i live with one, and the other one sits in my lap at work. you can guess which i mean...wink wink

Scientoloblogy

2008-01-09T10:33:00.000-08:00

okay, so this morning i was reading the lastest issue of the new yorker and i came across a very interesting article about scientology (you know that crazy ass religion that a science fiction writer, LRH as they lovingly call him, made up?). it's mainly about the Celebrity Centre (celebritycentre.org), which just so happens to have a drug detox clinic in the basement...humm. and i realized - this is a huge epidemic. yes, it's been gaining speed, but i had no idea about some (not all but SOME) of these celebrity members: marissa ribsi (she's so cute too), beck, tom cruise (and katie), john travolta (and kelly), jason lee, kristie alley, jenna elfman, juliette lewis, danny masterson, and more. in fact here are more: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_Scientologists

i would just like to say right now. this is kind of scary - is it just me? this "way of thinking/religion" is spreading like the flu - and i have to say, i just had the damn flu, you don't want it. in fact, i think i just gave the flu to all of my co-workers. you can ask them - they sure as hell don't want it either.

so, here's the real reason for this blog. i decided to pretend i was from Fairytale Land Road to take a free stress test on scientology.org (which, ps - for them to get non-profit status, they stole a bunch of irs documents and LRH's wifey went to jail for four years). the only way to get your results is if you go to a facility, but i more so i just wanted to see what the questions would be. i'm glad i did. i just want to say that i don't like making fun of religions. i think it's cruel and completely no one else's business. however, scientology is not a religion. it is a cult. and that's not coming from some other belief system, that's coming from me.

either way - check it out, it's fucking crazy. i highlighted my favorites:

1. Do you make thoughtless remarks or accusations which later you regret? (Are you a celebrity?)
2. When others are getting rattled, do you remain fairly composed? (Are you Tom Cruise?)
3. Do you browse through railway timetables, directories, or dictionaries just for pleasure? (Railway timetables?)
4. When asked to make a decision, would you be swayed by your like or dislike of the personality involved? (Personality or PERSON?)
5. Do you intend two or less children in your family even though your health and income will permit more? (Are you rich?)
6. Do you get occasional twitches of your muscles, when there is no logical reason for it? (Are you addicted to heroin?)
7. Would you prefer to be in a position where you did not have the responsibilities of making decisions? (Who wouldn't?)
8. Are your actions considered unpredictable by other people? (Are you a celebrity?)
9. Do you consider more money should be spent on social security? (Seriously, what?)
10. Do other people interest you very much? (Are you a celebrity watcher?)
11. Is your voice monotonous, rather than varied in pitch? (Are you John Travolta?)
12. Do you normally let the other person start the conversation? (Are you shy?)
13. Are you readily interested in other people's conversations? (Are you nosy?)
14. Would the idea of inflicting pain on game, small animals or fish prevent you from hunting or fishing? (Are you a member of PETA?)
15. Are you often impulsive in your behavior? (Are you a celebrity?)
16. Do you speak slowly? (Are you from the South?)
17. Are you usually concerned about the need to protect your health? (Are you a hypochondriac?)
18. Does an unexpected action cause your muscles to twitch? (Seriously, are you on heroin?)
19. Are you normally considerate in your demands on your employees, relatives, or pupils? (Do you "demand" stuff?)
20. Do you consider that you could give a valid “snap judgment”? (Can you make decisions...on heroin?)
21. Do your past failures still worry you? (Are you Kristie Alley?)
22. Do you find yourself being extra-active for periods lasting several days? (Are you Tom Cruise on Oprah?)
23. Do you resent the efforts of others to tell you what to do? (Are you really, really bad at taking advice?)
24. Is it normally hard for you to “own up and take the blame”? (Are you a person?)
25. Do you have a small circle of close friends, rather than a large number of friends, speaking acquaintances? (Do you only do heroin in the bathroom at LA night clubs?)
26. Is your life a constant struggle for survival? (Are you Survivor Man?)
27. Do you often sing or whistle just for the fun of it? (Are you Beck?)
28. Are you considered warm-hearted by your friends? (Are you Jason Lee?)
29. Would you rather give orders than take them? (Are you controling?)
30. Do you enjoy telling people the latest scandal about your associates? (Are you a gossip rag?)
31. Could you agree to “strict discipline”? (Are you into S&M?)
32. Would the idea of making a complete new start cause you much concern? (Would you like to join a cult?)
33. Do you make efforts to get others to laugh and smile? (Are you a clown?)
34. Do you find it easy to express your emotions? (Are you loose?)
35. Do you refrain from complaining when the other person is late for an appointment? (Do you just not give a shit?)
36. Are you sometimes considered by others a “spoilsport”? (Are you Tom Cruise?)
37. Do you consider there are other people who are definitely unfriendly toward you and work against you? (Are you CRAZY?)
38. Would you admit you were wrong just to “keep the peace”? (Do you love fighting/possibly hurting people?)
39. Do you have only a few people of whom you are really fond? (Who do you do heroin with?)
40. Are you rarely happy, unless you have a special reason? (Are you on anti-depressants?)

it sounds to me like they are just trying to find weak people and give them something to believe in. they don't believe in taking any types of anti-depressants or ritalin or anything like that. i'm not sure why. i'm really curious to know the thought process that went behind all of this fucked-up-ness. i'm pretty sure it was just a bet.

2008

2008-01-04T15:25:00.000-08:00

i rang in the new year with a new haircut, a new dress, and way too much...confidence. i kissed a lot of people (on the cheek, thank you) and perhaps danced with (on?) a few too many others.

now here are the things that i've lost since '08 began:

-one earring (from my fave pair)

-my makeup

-my glasses

-my hairbrush

-my keys

luckily, i found the latter three. but i really want my earring. it's irreplaceable (i got them from a yardsale for 50 cents)

my resolutions are so many i can't even remember.

mainly it was being myself here in new york. my dorky, corny self. i never cared before, but now i feel like i'm just trying to impress people.

okay blah blah blah. i don't want this to sound like a high school blog.

either way, i should have eaten some fucking blackeyed peas on the 1st, because now i have the FLU. yes, the FLU. and how did i get it? probably from kissing all those people. or on the subway when that homeless guy licked me.*

hopefully i'll feel better and remember those resolutions. i think one of them might have been to remember things more often.

oh well

*didn't happen, but i did see a guy pick up a piece of paper that had been sitting in the seat before he got there, fold it multiple times while talking to himself and waving his arms in a "tada!" fashion (like it was a magic trick), and subsequently put it in his mouth.

oh, new york. you're just too cute for words.

christmas in new york

2008-01-01T15:01:00.001-08:00

this car drove around the office two or three times playing "new york, new york." i loooved it.

this is just a little house on my street. a lot of people decorated, but they went all out. i just have to say that this house is just like a house in tennessee, only it's in a much smaller space to put all those damn decorations. a little loud, perhaps?

i heart chicken nuggets?

2007-12-17T20:12:00.000-08:00

christmas time is here

2007-12-07T19:35:00.001-08:00

brett and i posed for christmas cards...you'll see the actual card soon. xo

thanksgiving

2007-12-02T16:54:00.000-08:00

macys from the empire state building

the rockettes

a little more pathetic than mr. charlie brown's infamous tree. i put an ashtray next to it so you'd have a reference.

warming our hands by the fire.

2007-11-04T08:35:00.003-08:00

...only laurel looks like she was the one who started it.

the past month in pictures

2007-11-03T11:04:00.000-07:00

FAO Schwartz

waiting to see jimmy carter

breakdancers in central park - one from detroit, the rest from europe

more "entrepreuners" in central park using a cute little kid to get money.

i finally did my own laundry (like freedom, who i copy, i hate laundromats). however, the lady at the end of the aisle is the scariest little doll woman i've ever seen. she is a good reason to go to the laundromat. this was actually my (failed) attempt to get a good picture.

HALLOWEENIE

chinatown buses

2007-10-10T17:14:00.000-07:00

suck.

day trip to philly for joe and annie's wedding

2007-10-07T11:55:00.000-07:00

weekend rollerskate dance parties in central park

2007-09-24T19:28:00.000-07:00

are the best.

i would have still been game.

2007-09-23T12:38:00.001-07:00

the most confusing building in america.

2007-09-09T17:03:00.000-07:00

(i can't take credit for this glorious picture.)

the other day i had to pick up three vip tickets for monday's oprah taping in new york. i walked down to 8th ave, and walked up to this gigantic and intimating building. when i entered, there were long escalators with water fountains flowing down the sides. i turned right as instructed. 'hearst publications' was written over the welcome desk, and i stopped over. they called up to sarah, the person i was supposed to meet on the 36th floor. i heard the guy next to the lady i was talking to say, "yeah, it's pretty confusing," but my lady didn't elaborate on this for me. she handed me this, and told me to go upstairs, call the number and ask for the girl:

easy, right? wrong. i started to put it on, but refrained. i had to scan it first. these weird metal doors opened, and i had escalator access. i went up, and turned to find the elevators. after finding them, i stood there for roughly 30 seconds. there was no button to push. i went over to this kiosk-looking thing. i stood there. then a woman walked up and typed a number in. being human, and having lived 22 years, i obviously watched and then tried to mimick her actions. it didn't work. she was nice enough, however, to say "yeah, this place is extremely confusing." and tell me what to do. the elevator opened for both of us, and we went up. we had a short conversation. she said that because of those elevators, she gets on other ones and does nothing. at the hearst tower, it's done for you. i stepped off on the 36th floor, and walked around for a moment. i was in the middle of two glass walls with 'O' on one side and 'The Oprah Winfrey Show' on the other. i walked over to the phone (which took me much too long to find - as everything else in the building, it did not look like a typical phone). sarah answered and walked over to meet me. we went in and i got the tickets. she asked if i had an idea of how to leave, and i just shook my head. she had to push a button for me to leave, and then i walked over to the elevator kiosk. this time i knew what was up. and then i went down. after going down the escalator, i started to walk out of the door. i was confused at first. i had to walk through the same metal turnstile, and it was automatic.

i walked out on the street and took a breath. the crazy, technologically advanced, and completely unnecessary building was behind me.

life is a highway

2007-09-08T14:30:00.000-07:00

i really don't like that song, but it's in my head. i don't know why, but it concerns me.

i'm digressing. the real point of this blog is not tom cochrane's hit. the point is my new job.

i love it. being someone's assistant is exhilarating, believe it or not. i like calling people and organizing things and doing what i should do. i'm a peculiar lady. at first, i was freaking out, because i kept feeling stupid. but then, it's like it all clicked, and now i'm good at what i do. already. of course, there is tons of room for improvement. and it will come.

working in new york is interesting, though. you order almost everything online and you use messenger services. in tennessee you would just drive. additionally, working for someone who has more money than i will ever see in my entire life is...i'm not even sure if there is an adjective to describe it. it's absolutely brilliant. basically, i never have to worry that when she asks me to do something, i'll spend too much money on her card. of course, i don't go for the most expensive things, but the sky is the limit for the most part. it's just crazy. (both of those adjectives i will deem suitable until further notice)

meanwhile, i'm still doing that comedy jazz. and by that, i've decided that i am a straight up improv groupie. it's not that i'm doing all the dudes, it's more that i'm just always around but not acting, and always chatting up people and not acting, etc. i like everyone i've met, and those that i don't like...i don't talk to. i have nothing to lose so it does matter what i do or say.

last night crystal and i went to see demetri martin tape his new show for comedy central. after waiting three hours on the street, we finally got to go in at 10:30...and we left around 1. all i have to say is, wow. demetri was nice to everyone, but he wouldn't shut the fuck up in between takes. i mean, i appreciate him trying to be all "sweet" and everything, it's just - i was tired, sweaty, and disgusting. i wanted to go home, take a shower, and sleep (which would solve all of those problems). and i was in a terrible mood from waiting so long. the show was/is going to be hilarious. just don't stand on a street for three hours in between four girls who kept calling people "tragically hip" and talking about going to shows to see shitty bands before you watch it.

let me describe these girls for a moment. they were obviously in high school, first of all. the girls in front kept talking about god-knows-what and saying "like" a million freaking times. the two girls behind us...one had pink hair and other had i-don't-know hair. and huge jugs. i thought they were okay, but they most certainly thought they were awesome in their low cut shirts and leggings. was i jealous? not at all. i just felt like i was doing a time warp, and i considering i hate anything to do with high school, i was not fond of heading down that road. i did join their mtv conversation, but i immediately regretted it and stepped away. crystal joined me, thank god.

okay, i have completely digressed. no turning back. for those that care, i'm coming home the last weekend of september. can we make a date please? i love you all. xo

explosive rats!

2007-08-29T11:45:00.001-07:00

last night was the strangest night here. i drank my normal amount of booze (which is far more than any normal human being), and i was doing my talky mctalkerson bit. however, everything i was saying was completely stupid and awkward. we've all had those moments, and last night was mine. i couldn't believe what was coming out of my mouth. i went from person to person with no actual conversation, and basically pointing to the drink in my hand as if to say, 'this is why.' by the time we left the bar (around 2:30), i felt like a complete idiot.

brett and i went down to wait for the E train. here's the thing about that effing train - it comes every 30 minutes. we got down to the station around 2:36 (even when i'm drunk i'm OCD about time). we had just missed it. so finally, around 3:09 the next train comes rolling into the station. the good thing about this, however, is i was very entertained by these two german dudes hitting on chicks. one of their shirts said "pretty fucking vacant" and three sets of eyes with those three different expressions on it. the other one said something about "too hot" or something. i'm sure brett remembers. that shirt disgusted us both. i kind of liked the other one.

anyway, the train comes, and we begin our way. brett and i have a lengthy conversation about how fucking dumb i am, and we finally reach astoria. three stops away. and then something explodes on the track, and the train fills with smoke. the driver comes over the speaker and yells, "all passengers please make your way to the back of the train." brett and i were in the front of the train. i was FREAKING out, for multiple reasons. i think the driver had hoped that we were far enough back for the tail end of the train to be at the previous station, which was 23rd st and ely. we weren't. so we sat there for about 15 minutes, while he kept coming through. the train's power was turned off, and we heard sirens. then we powered back up and moved again. we FINALLY got to our stop (around 4) and we were walking up the stairs. i saw a rat, and being still drunk, instead of screaming, i jumped beside it and started yelling "hey rat!" the rat then ran over brett's feet. he squealed (i would have too), and i laughed.

xoxo

ps-have you seen 'man band' yet? brett and i now dvr it and watch it together. it's probably the funniest show in the world. it's a dude from color me bad, a dude from LFO, the only one that was not a lachey in 98 degrees, and chris kirkpatrick from 'nsync. they are all in their 30s and trying to be successful again. it's hilarity. oh, and their band name is 'sure shot.'

i AM a holla back girl.

2007-08-27T09:55:00.001-07:00

nopicturesthistime.

just ponder this:
if a black cat crosses your path, it's seven years bad luck, right?
what about an orange tabby?

i got the job at central talent booking.
i start next tuesday.
holla.

my hopes and dreams are to take a creative writing class soon. i'm just not sure where. i can't believe it myself, but i miss learning. now, here are my attempts to teach myself.

don't go too far, el capitán. the boat might sink in your absence.

free in nyc

2007-08-23T14:55:00.000-07:00

in new york, nothing is free. and i mean nothing. so when you convince a bartender to give you a free drink, you jump for joy. when you get into the ucb for free, you're over excited. when you get a free can of grapefruit juice from the local chinese restaurant, you are extremely confused.

pet fashion week

2007-08-21T11:02:00.000-07:00

additionally, this week i spotted prince (or at least his EXACT replica), saw a guy with one arm play harmonica, was serenaded by three dudes singing "only sixteen" by the supremes, and a purse snatcher - a real life purse snatcher. the whole "my purse! stop him!" bit and everything. it was crazy. all of this, of course, happening on the street...not at the pet fashion week...even though that would have been intense.

you're nobody til somebody loves you

2007-08-14T10:15:00.000-07:00

my apartment is a safe haven. i'm friends with joe, our neighbor. i'll have to take a picture of him later. he's an older dude from croatia. we talk a lot. he's friends with everyone in the neighborhood. i feel like i've retired here. here are pictures our cute little apartment...or at least some.

i hate this picture, mainly because i took it of myself, and i have a pet peeve against people doing that, but i really like this picture at the same time. i look how i feel. okay... i look a little bit more angry than i feel, but you get the picture...ha, get the picture. this is my room. the green is the best color in the world to have on your wall.

for the first time since i moved, i'm lonely. it's a revelation i had last night after i saw brett perform at the ucb for his graduation show. i was sitting on the subway, reading a book, and i looked around. no, there wasn't cute couples holding hands or anything....there were just a few people, and they were all alone. and they looked really tired...and a little sad. there was an asian lady who didn't look up. she kept her hands in her lap and was staring at something on the floor of the subway.

i decided i needed something, so i stopped by the natural market and picked up double chocolate brownie ice cream (soy of course...because that's all the have). on the way home, i saw a cat with one eye, and a little boy run to his sister and throw a hula hoop at her. my empty apartment welcomed with open arms, and for the first time in a loooong time, i cried. then i stayed up til 5 watching 'six feet under.' i'm completely and totally addicted to their craziness. it makes me feel better for some reason. and it's a good reason to cry. after all, someone dies every episode.

my sleeping and eating schedule are completely screwed up. if i can get my life in order, maybe they won't be. i turned down the position at the museum of the moving image. i supposedly got the better, higher paying job at central talent booking, but i haven't heard anything from her since friday - the interview. who knows. i suppose it will work out for the best, right?

additionally, i have realized many things about mr. white. without garlic powder and parmesan cheese, he would not be alive today. without his vast supply of chocolate syrup and dark chocolate m&ms, he wouldn't be happy. and without his comics, he would be bored.

this is the aftermath of his half milk/half chocolate syrup/m&ms explosion.

god, i love living with him.

trailer parks and interviews

2007-08-08T15:34:00.000-07:00

in case you are wondering, this is what a trailer park looks like according to new yorkers:

okay, so i still haven't really taken any pictures. truth is, i've shelled myself up in my apt for the past 3 days to finish some pressing dish magazine stories.

yesterday, however, i couldn't take it anymore. i had to get out. so i ventured over to times square. if you are lonely, here's a word of advice: don't go to times square. i'm sure anyone could have told you that, but i thought brushing up against strangers (like regina encourages us to do) was a viable option. the only brushing i did was to escape their clutches. i spent well over $100 (shopping is a bad idea if you are lonely too), and was treated rather rudely. in this great adventure, i realized something. everyone i've met is "aspiring" - aspiring actors, directors, writers (god save their souls), journalists, comedians, etc. at what point did any of these people give up their dreams to become taxi drivers, subway drivers, waiters and waitresses? if las vegas wasn't built on winning, new york was definitely not built on people realizing their dreams. however, there seems to be hope in all of this. even though i've been here for an extremely short while, i've already heard about a number of people who have "made it."

speaking of realizing our dreams...

this is the chair i sat in for an hour while i tried to realize mine. what is mine, you ask? to get a job. a real job. i interviewed at the museum of the moving image today, and showed up 45 minutes before the guy interviewing me did. there was a terrible storm last night and all the subways were down (seriously, that's crazy to me), so i left early for my interview. trust me. that chair is not comfortable and definitely left triangle imprints all over the ass of my new dress.

at least when i made the comment that those chairs were slightly ridiculous, he laughed a lot and agreed. i could have potentially offended him, i guess.

start spreading the news

2007-08-06T10:07:00.000-07:00

when i first arrived here a few days ago, i was sure that i was still in murfreesboro. it wasn't until i went into the city the next day that i realized i had really moved. after all, i moved in with brett on the cutest street in the world. and even more so, when we first got here, we threw everything in my apt. and ran to walmart and ikea. then we came home assembled all of the furniture. it took forever. i put together everything except my desk from ikea (that would be the futon, tv cart, cabinet thing and bookcase), while my mom washed dishes and my dad fiddled with my fourth "wall," which is really just a curtain. when we settled down to sleep, it was approximately 107 degrees, and i felt bad. my parents slept in my "room" without the curtain up and no sheets. it was hot.

the next day i woke up at approximately 6am, which i had been doing for the entire week before that. when i get nervous, i don't eat and i definitely don't sleep. it's how i stay in shape, really. but we woke up, showered, and ran to bed bath and beyond and home depot, narrowly avoiding walmart again, considering it was about 30 minutes away. we got home and i continued to construct my furniture while my parents tried to put up my curtain. after a lot of screaming, fighting, and hugs, my parents and i set off to explore astoria. it's pretty much adorable. there are bars and cute cafes everywhere, not to mention donuts and organic food stores. we got back around 8pm, and my parents left.

i then headed to manhattan to meet someone that i kinda knew from the boro. i arrived at this fancy restaurant/bar somewhere on 70th near central park at around 9, and immediately ordered a jack and coke. $11 later, i decided that's all i would be drinking for the nite. it was super fun, and i met a ton of people, but the entire time all i thought was "how am i going to get home?" at about 2am, we set out on the street to find an atm so i could hail a cab and go home. problem was, no one would go to astoria. so we went down to the subway, and i said my slightly nervous goodbyes to the dudes that were nice enough to help me out. i then ventured downstairs, and just as i expected, there was one person. and he was a dude. he didn't look at me, so i thought i had it pretty good. then i realized why he wasn't looking at me. he was staring at boobies. in a porn mag. "sweet," i thought as i backed up slowly. "i'm going to be raped and thrown on the track." but then something wonderful happened - the train came.

the ride to astoria was a slightly confusing one. the train i normally get on wasn't running then, so i was definitely trying my luck on this one. luckily, i'm not afraid to ask questions, because after i had sat down, a girl who speaks broken english politely explained to me that we were headed to brooklyn. unluckily, that is the exact opposite way to my apt. i hopped off the train, ran upstairs, and ran over to the other one. i did my best remembering and got off at 30th ave, and walked the 17 short blocks home. no really, they're short blocks. i then realized that 30th ave is the coolest place in astoria. there were gobs of people outside (need i remind you it was 2:45 in the morning), all drunk and dancing. there was cafes on the street, which is something i've always wanted to see/be a part of. i made it home sans scrapes and bruises, but i did see a dude on my street passed out on the steps in front of his door.

the next day brett and i went to best buy and michael's, which is apparently not too far from my apt. then he went into the city, and i got ready to meet him at 6pm. we ate barbeque in midtown manhattan, and i was so happy. we explored h & m and then walked over to the ucb. we got into the first show for free, but i paid for the other 2. they were great. "mother" and "reuben williams" performed, along with brett's friend katey. comedy is something i'm not used to, so when we went to mcmannus afterwards (a bar), i tried my best to keep up with all the names of the groups and people and performances. i felt like everyone was constantly performing, and i had nothing to say but a few puns. i did get a high five for one though, so it made me feel better. i chatted up some cute gay dudes (dammit), and brett's friends were nice. then brett, hal and i split a taxi home.

yesterday i got up late and met those dudes from the boro in midtown at blockheads, known for its burritos and $3 margaritas. i was slightly uncomfortable, but the tequila helped that quite a bit. i then realized there was no need to be uncomfortable - the dudes are awesome. i got a little drunk (off 2 tasty margaritas - pretty sure i'll always be a lightweight), and we went over to a virgin megastore and this other store that sells sheet music. we jumped on the subway and ended up where i was wanting to go all day - the quad theater. paris je t'aime was playing, and even though i had already seen it, i loved it so much i wanted to again. the movie ended and the dudes agreed that it was an absolutely amazing flick (thank god, cause that was definitely my first impression on them). austin went home to practice (he's auditioning for saved! the musical some time today), and ben, chris, and i went to trailer park, an amazing bar. honestly, i loved it there. i took pictures, which are actually the first i've taken since i moved here, but i don't have internet on my computer, and i don't want to put a bunch of shit on brett's. i'll post them later.

okay, so job prospects? i have an interview sometime this week with brett's boss, as her personal assistant, and an interview at a museum in astoria as a sales assistant. i really want the job with brett's boss, but who knows if i will get it at all.

now i have to go back to working on dishmag stuff. i'm still freelancing for them, and i have some work to do. i'm not sure i'm going to manhattan today. i think i'm going to make bean burritos for brett and me instead.

xoxo
jennifer

chuckie's one-legged friend

2007-06-23T08:59:00.000-07:00

schmidty's scary, evil doll has recently come to our apartment. whitney said it best, "it's the doll with the spider legs on in toy story." seems about right. its hair is matted. it's missing a leg. and when i tried to close its eyes, they stayed open. i lock my door, but i'm sure it knows how to get in. absolutely terrifying.

additionally, i recently uploaded my very first video on youtube. it's jennifer and alexis playing at la hacienda. i'm really surprised on how well my camera worked.

air hobos

2007-06-12T08:06:00.000-07:00

so i know a lot about hobos, thanks to john hodgman. i even know exactly what i'm going to name my kid, thanks to john hodgman. unfortunately, i don't know why they insist on breaking all of our stuff where i work. or going through our bags of trash on trash day. or yelling things at us. either way, i was on the phone with my boss (she's in montreal), and there was some guy who came in to our office and started talking and talking and talking. it was really pissing me off because i was on the phone with my boss and i couldn't hear a freaking word she was saying...nor could i hear a freaking word he was saying. so i told my boss i had to go. no, no. she wanted me to ask everyone if they had anything they wanted to tell her. so i asked. response from amanda and meagan: no. response from guy: your air conditioner is broken. i told her no one had anything to say, thinking that he was sweating profusely because he was talking loudly, and my preacher used to do that (still does, but i don't go there anymore). he would be drenched in sweat by the end of the sermon, while my best friend would sit beside me and whisper "i wonder if he knows gluttony is a sin?" either way, i disconnected the call with raeanne and went to my office. then i realized that everyone had gone to the back of the building. i went back there, and holy crap. this is what i discovered:

in case you can't tell, they broke the wires and the lock. whoever did this knew what they were doing. fortunately, it's the air conditioning unit the back, where we don't work. unfortunately, however, it's where raeanne's negatives are. we haven't told her yet. i pick her up from the airport today. she's going to be pissed.

i'm sure i shouldn't blame it on the hobos, but it's someone who decided it would be a good idea to steal the copper out of the air conditioning unit and sell it. someone who probably doesn't have a lot of money or wants to make a quick buck.

by the way, did you know michael jordan recoops 70% of the profits from his air jordans?? and people wonder why there are hobos in the first place, right? why does paris hilton have money and kevin, the diabetic that raeanne "adopted" who lives in a park has nothing but a lot of puppies and no food? why is this acceptable?

worky mcworkerson

2007-06-11T14:21:00.000-07:00

okay. so this isn't the most interesting post, but since i know you've all been DYING to see where i work (you all of course being absolutely no one because i'm pretty sure that's how many people look at this), i've decided to share the craziness with you.

my office. it's so...officious. i did NOT make that mess. i just keep pretending like i can actually clean it.

the studio. raeanne is actually a famous photographer, but it's so messy i'm not sure if she even wants people to come to her studio. some pictures of her pictures are below...

the "kitchen." we hang out by the water cooler on break. but there is no water cooler, so that's a lie.

here are some of her pictures. guess who the stars are. if you guess right...i'll give you a prize (which just means i'll say, "good job!" and possibly touch your butt a little.)

i took a picture of the one to the left for brett and jason jones.

check out that ass!

loco for cafe coco

2007-05-23T17:51:00.001-07:00

i didn't get a picture of it, but they claim to have the best hummus in nashville. however, for some reason it was orange. maybe someone can explain why? perhaps that hot enoch fellow who works behind the counter? after all, he's the one who claims it is the best. i question his validity as a hummus expert.

i believe this was somewhere around the time that i mistook a guy for stan. said guy was holding hands with another guy and was rather overweight. can't help it if they looked the same from the back.

more tomorrow. time for bed.