Thursday, December 18, 2008

Poor Kids

Back in April a couple from New Zealand was told that they could not name their child "4Real", and were quite upset about it. They opted instead to put "Superman" on his birth certificate and continue to call him 4Real around the house. When asked why they named him 4Real to begin with, "Mr Wheaton said he came up with the unlikely moniker after seeing the baby for the first time in an ultrasound scan and realising their baby was 'for real'."

Yeah, some people should not breed.

In July, New Zealand was in the news again for weird baby names. A nine year old girl named, no kidding, "Talulah Does The Hula From Hawaii" was scared of being teased by her classmates and asked to be called "K" instead. She had her name legally changed, but the Judge, Rob Murfitt, attacked the trend of weird names and was able to cite several examples of both allowed and banned names.

The banned names included Fat Boy, Fish and Chips (twins), and Sex Fruit. The allowed names were not much better and included Violence, Number 16 Bus Shelter, and a set of twins named Benson and Hedges.
As I stated when this article first came out, the only reason I can imagine for a child being named Number 16 Bus Shelter would be if they were conceived there. And if that's the case? Ewwwwwwww....

Also? Twins named Fish and Chips are way less trashy then a set named Benson and Hedges. Just sayin'.

Anywhoooo, this week Americans decided to get in on the weird baby name trend. Though in the case of this New Jersey couple the names were more offensive than strange. The Campbell family of New Jersey was very upset when a local establishment refused to write their son's name on a birthday cake. Their son's name is Adolf Hitler Campbell.

I'll let that soak in for a minute.

They said that they named their son that because it was original and they liked the name. It has nothing to do with the fact that they are insane racists! Of course not! If they were insane racists would they have named their second child JoyceLynn Aryan Nation Campbell? I think not! (No, seriously, they really named their daughter that.) Would they give their third child a middle name that sounds suspiciously like Himmler? Of course not!

I'm really hoping this whole thing turns out to be a hoax.

Can we start manditory IQ testing for breeding rights? Because this is getting ridiculous.

Thanks to Geekologie for all the tips! ♦DiggIt!Add to del.icio.usAdd to Technorati Faves

Monday, December 15, 2008

"Well, there's spam egg sausage and spam, that's not got much spam in it."

I was looking in my spam folder on gmail the other day when I noticed a link at the top of the page, one of those ads that are supposed to have something to do with what you're reading, and it said "French Fry Spam Casserole."

Excuse me?

I clicked on the link and was greeted with one of the most disgusting recipes I have ever encountered. Behold:

Title: FRENCH FRY SPAM CASSEROLE
Categories: Main dish
Yield: 8 servings

1 pk Frozen french fry potatoes,
-thawed (20 oz)
2 c Shredded Cheddar cheese
2 c Sour cream
1 cn Condensed cream of chicken
-soup (10 3/4 oz)
1 cn SPAM Luncheon Meat, cubed
-(12 oz)
1/2 c Chopped red bell pepper
1/2 c Chopped green onion
1/2 c Finely crushed corn flakes

Heat oven to 350'F. In large bowl, combine potatoes, cheese, sour
cream, and soup. Stir in SPAM, bell pepper, and green onion. Spoon
into 13x9″ baking dish. Sprinkle with crushed flakes. Bake 30-40
minutes or until thoroughly heated.
Holy shit.  What do you do if someone serves you this?  And do you think there is a
set of rules somewhere that says you must live in a home with wheels in order to cook this?

The Recipe Source has some other gems as well:


1. Cantonese Sweet And Sour Spam
2. Dipped Spam Swiss Sandwiches
3. Classic Spam Potato Salad
4. Vegetable Spam Stuffed Acorn Squash
5. Deviled Green Eggs And Spam
6. Spam Breakfast Bagels
7. Hearty Spam Breakfast Skillet
8. Spam And Egg Brunch
9. Elegant Potato Spam Casserole
10. Double Cheese Spam Bake
11. Spam-Mac Casserole
12. French Fry Spam Casserole
13. Spam Cheesy Broccoli Bake
14. Speedy Spam Quiche
15. Quick Spam Quiche
16. Speedy Spam Quiche
17. Cricket's Spam Quiche
18. Spam Strudels With Mustard Sauce
19. Spam Vegetable Strudel
20. French Fry Spam Casserole
21. Savory Spam Crescents
22. Spam Swiss Pie
23. Spam Vegetable Soup With Cheese-Topped Croutons
24. Spam Meal In A Bundle
25. Creamy Spam Broccoli Casserole
26. Spam Hot And Spicy Stir-Fry
27. Spam Hot Vegetable Salad Sandwiches
28. Spam Veggie Pita Pockets
29. Vineyard Spam Salad
30. Spam Ala Gary
31. Spam Stew With Buttermilk Topping
32. Spam Breakfast Burritos
33. Spam Confetti Pasta
34. Spam Primavera
35. Spam Broccoli Pecan Salad
36. Spicy Spam Kabobs
37. Healthy Spam Peppers
38. Coconut Beer Batter Spam with Raspberry Horse
39. Spam Denver Biscuit Souffle
40. Spam Fajitas
41. Spam Hashbrown Bake
42. Spam Vegetable Casserole
43. Spam Ala Gary
44. Spam Primavera
45. Spam Hashbrown Bake
46. Delicious and 'Good For You' SPAM Salad
47. Spam-Bolaya
48. Easy Spam Triangles
49. Gingered Spam Salad
50. Spam A La King
51. Spam-Mac Casserole
52. Spam Salad Cones
53. Spam Skillet Casserole
54. Spam Stuffed Potatoes Florentine
55. Spam Imperial Tortilla Sandwiches
56. Spam Western Pasta
57. Spam Fettuccini Primavera
58. Spam Hawaiian Pizza
59. White Spam And Garlic Pizza
60. Hawaiian Spam Pizza
61. Spam Reuben Sandwich
62. Spam Pizza Pockets
63. Dipped Spam Swiss Sandwiches
64. Spam Imperial Tortilla Sandwiches
65. Spam Imperial Tortilla Sandwiches
66. Maui Spam Muffins
67. Mondo Spam Deluxe On Rye
68. Bone Hunter's Spam Delight
69. Spam Carbonera
70. Super Spam Cheeseball
71. Spicy Spam Party Dip
72. Spam Meat Spread
73. Spam Fiesta Dip
74. Spam Western Bean Soup


I've bolded the important recipes.

Number 9, Elegant Potato Spam Casserole. Right, because anything including Spam is going to be elegant.

Number 68, Bone Hunter's Spam Delight. The name caught me off guard, but the recipe is even better:

Recipe By : James I. Kirkland Ph.D.
Serving Size : 1 Preparation Time :0:00
Categories : Meats

Amount Measure Ingredient -- Preparation Method
-------- ------------ --------------------------------
1 can spam

Open can. Take a green branch from a Utah Juniper. Sharpen the point. Plunge it
through the Spam. Hold over a low fire of Juniper wood. Turn slowly. Roast for
about 15 minutes. May be eaten off the stick or sliced onto some hard tack.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

NOTES : This is a delightful meal eaten often by underfunded paleontologists in
the field.

WHAT THE FUCK. I was always under the impression that if you had enough money and brains to get your PHD you would have absolutely nothing to do with canned meat. Apparently I was mistaken.

And finally, my personal favorite, number 38: Coconut Beer Battered Spam with Raspberry Horse.

Horse is apparently a typo for Sauce, as it is not mentioned in the recipe at all. The raspberry horse is made from "raspberry sauce or jelly" and horseradish sauce. I've been on the verge of throwing up all night and this might actually push me over the edge. I also hate coconut, which doesn't help matters.

Spam, ladies and gentleman, it will blow your mind.

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HA HA HA

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Tuesday, December 09, 2008

NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM

The Tigerlily introduced me to the awesomeness that is Angelo Pietro Sesame Miso Dressing ages ago. She was so excited about the stuff that she blogged about it. Now I am doing the same because HOLY SHIT, this stuff is amazing.

Seth and I recently started shopping at this Japanese supermarket in the East Village which, if you're in the area, I totally recommend. They have great prices on fish and sell large pieces of sashimi for ridiculously low prices. I am in love. They also carry all sorts of awesome Japanese snacks, udon noodles, lots of frozen dumplings and an awesome candy selection. On top of all that? More salad dressings, soy sauces, and oils than you can shake a stick at. Oh yeah.

Sunrise Mart
4 Stuyvesant Street, 2nd Floor
New York, NY 10003
212-598-3040

So, back to the salad dressing. While shopping at Sunrise Mart last week I saw that they sold the miso-sesame dressing and promptly bought a bottle after calling the Tigerlily and checking that it was the correct flavor. Seth looked at me like I was insane. "Five dollars for a bottle of salad dressing?" I tried to explain the awesome to him, but he still thought it was too expensive. The next night he tried it for himself while eating dinner at my apartment. The day after that I got a phone call. "It's the sesame miso one right? I want to make sure I get the right flavor."

So now Seth has been converted and you will be too. I've started to dream about this salad dressing. I'm considering bringing a bottle to keep at work. I'm obsessed.

In other NOM related news - Seth has trained himself to make an awesome key lime pie. He tried the recipe for the first time on Thanksgiving because he knows that I will do anything for key lime pie. ("What would you do for a Klondike Bar?" Absolutely nothing. Replace "Klondike Bar" with "key lime pie" and I will follow you to the ends of the earth.) Anywho, he had a couple of extra limes and a cupcake tray lying around and decided to make key lime tarts. Which he has been feeding me for dessert the last two nights. He also made bangers and mash with a mushroom gravy which kicked my butt.

Basically, I love him a lot.

And food. I love food a lot. ♦DiggIt!Add to del.icio.usAdd to Technorati Faves

Monday, December 08, 2008

Spoons is very serious business

My father's side of the family has a long and painful tradition of playing Spoons. Never played Spoons? Here's a quick list of rules from familyfun.com:

Spoons Card Game

Few cards serve up the kind of excitement that are part of every game of Spoons.

WHAT YOU NEED:
Deck of cards
Spoons (one less than # of players)


HOW TO PLAY:
1. The object is to collect four cards of one kind (four twos, four kings and so on) and not to be the person left without a spoon. To begin, place the spoons (one fewer than the number of players) in the center of the table within grabbing reach of all players. Each player is dealt four cards. The dealer keeps the deck.

2. The dealer picks a card from the deck and then discards one card from his hand, sliding it facedown to the player to his left. That player takes it, then picks one card from his hand and passes it to his left.

3. Each player in turn does the same, as quickly as possible. Each person should have four cards in his hand at all times. The player to the right of the dealer places discarded cards in a pile to his left to be used by the dealer when the original deck is used up.

4. Play continues until one player has four of a kind, at which time he takes a spoon from the pile. He may steal the spoon surreptitiously, continuing to pass cards until someone else notices. Or he may grab his spoon, creating a mad rush for spoons at the table.

5. The player left without a spoon has lost the round. If you like to keep score, that player is given an S. As players spell S-P-O-O-N, they are out. The player left at the end is the winner.
----------------------------------------
We play with two decks of cards, but other than that it's the same. Do you have a general idea of how the game works now? Excellent.

My family gets very very serious about it. When I was eleven years old I witnessed my aunt and uncle wrestle each other to the ground over a spoon. A week and a half after their wedding.

Seth and I went up to visit some of my family up in Boston this past weekend and because it was absolutely FREEZING outside, I suggested we all play on Saturday night. Seth had never played with my family before, so I thought it would be a good learning experience. It was also the first time that the baby of the family was allowed to play with the adults.

A list of injuries:
-A small chunk of my right index knuckle is probably still somewhere on their kitchen table.
-My uncle ended up with quite a bit of table under his fingernails.
-I lost the feeling in my pinkie for about an hour after pulling a spoon out of my uncle's hand.
-Baby cousin (who was also the first to get S-P-O-O-N), kept getting her fingers smashed.
-A bruise on my shin because I accidentally hooked my leg around my chair.
-Etc.

Who knew a card game could involve so much pain?

Also? I love my family. ♦DiggIt!Add to del.icio.usAdd to Technorati Faves

Wednesday, December 03, 2008

Oscar The Sometimes Cat

My roommates and I have acquired a sometimes cat. By "sometimes cat" I mean "stray cat who lives behind our house who is kind enough to catch our mice and poop outside as long as we feed him regularly." Basically, Oscar does not live with us all the time. Only when he's hungry or in the mood. Most of the time he is behind our apartment doing whatever it is that outside cats do. (Whatever it is it involves screeching and coming home with large scratches across the nose. We think the other outside cats might be jealous of our Oscar.)

Before Oscar was Oscar he was just some random cat who meowed at our window from time to time. We made the mistake of feeding him once and then he wouldn't go away. (Of course not, would you?) My roommate Michael decided to let him in one day (this was after said roommate had dubbed the outside cat "Oscar") and he immediately not only killed the one mouse we had in our apartment, but took it outside so we wouldn't have to deal with it. That was when he became our sometimes cat. Dude earned it.

Meet Oscar:All together now: "Awwwwww"


Oscar is friendly, well behaved and pretty much awesome. His main problem is that he's filthy. Live in a garbage can (Oscar, get it?) and you're bound to be. His other problem is that he makes the other outside cats very VERY jealous. I kicked him out the other day because he was being a nuisance, and immediately heard one of the worst cat fights I have ever heard in my life. On top of that, this was the scene outside of my (VERY VERY FILTHY) window recently:
One cat all up in our business, and one cat waiting to pounce. Awesome.

Our other problem with Oscar is that we're not sure if we're allowed to have cats or not. We need to check with the landlords on that. We also need to check with the landlords about our broken sink, toilet, and door, but those are other issues. If it turns out we're allowed to have cats we're going to have Oscar fixed, bathe him, and keep him inside. If it turns out we can't...

Well...

Anyone want a cat? I'll pay for the balls being chopped off! ♦DiggIt!Add to del.icio.usAdd to Technorati Faves

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

You Are All a Bunch of Creeps

I have this handy-dandy thing on here called Stat Counter which, as you probably already know, shows me my daily page views, a map of where people are coming from, and various other interesting tidbits. (Seriously, thing is awesome, if you have a blog I advise getting one immediately: http://www.statcounter.com) One of these tidbits is "recent keyword activity" which lets me know how people are stumbling upon my page. This keyword tracker has alerted me to the fact that ya'll are a bunch of creeps.

I wrote a blog entry a while back titled "I'm freezing my tits off!" because it happened to be really cold in my office that day and I happen to enjoy that phrase. Apparently a lot of other people enjoy Googling that phrase and I learned today that my blog is the first hit on Google should you be the type of person who searches for that sort of thing. And a lot of people search for it. About once a week someone searches "I'm freezing my tits off", "freezing tits", "freeze your tits off" or some other variation on that phrase. But why? What on earth are people looking for? Pictures of cold girls? Ice covered boobies? I'm at a loss.

I've also had a couple of hits on this entry from people searching "Hitler lives". Well, thankfully, no. Hitler does NOT live. He is very much dead and I'm sure we would all like to keep it that way. He's not Elvis! He is dead dead dead dead dead. Hitler BAD.

A lot of people are also apparently very interested in that trashy store on 8th street and MacDougal. Versailles. But I still can't understand WHY. Seriously. LOOK at the place. It's horrific. Please stop searching for it.

And, the most popular search that brings people to my blog is, quite obviously, my name. I'm a little creeped out by the fact that I am being googled AT LEAST once a day. From all over the world. Granted, there could be another Sarah Booz out there (actually, there is. She's in highschool in PA somewhere and her friends will sometimes mistakenly contact me thinking I'm her. "No, no, I'm a college student in New York. I definitely don't sit next to you in Chem class. Please leave me alone."), but I don't think she has a blog. Oh yes. People not only search my name, but also "sarah booz blog" and "sarah booz blogspot" which leads me to believe that they know the site and simply too lazy to type out the full URL. JUST BOOKMARK IT. You are FREAKING ME OUT.

So yeah...if you're stopping by because you know me, or knew me, or whatever, LEAVE A COMMENT. Or use that handy e-mail tool up at the top. Stop being a bunch of creepy lurkers.

UPDATE: Apparently some of these people ARE looking for ice covered boobies. The first image on Google Image Search (safe search OFF of course) is a pair of breasts covered in snow. Knowledge is power, people. ♦DiggIt!Add to del.icio.usAdd to Technorati Faves

Monday, November 17, 2008

Thank You

Dear Cowgirl Hall of Fame,

Thank you for understanding that crucial period of time between Halloween and Christmas.

Love,
Sarah
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JUST WAIT ANOTHER WEEK AND A HALF, PEOPLE

I heard a Christmas carol on the radio in my local drugstore yesterday and just about lost it. "Holy shit." I said to the cashier waiting on me. She looked at me like I was crazy. I pointed up to where the sound was coming from and she kind of cocked her head to the side and continued to look at me like I was insane. "They're playing a Christmas carol. On the radio. It's not even Thanksgiving!" She then nodded and handed me my receipt. "But...but..." I stammered and then left, because obviously this girl did not understand how completely WRONG the whole thing was. Christmas carols...before Thanksgiving...You're kidding.

They played the original cartoon version of How The Grinch Stole Christmas on Saturday night. I called my mother immediately.

Me: Mom? MOM! THEY ARE PLAYING THE GRINCH.
Mom: I know. I'm not watching it. I'm at a baby shower and besides, it's before Thanksgiving.
Me: I KNOW. Why are they playing it???
Mom: I'm ignoring it. I'm at a baby shower and it doesn't count.

BECAUSE IT DOESN'T. IT'S TOO EARLY.

I took this picture midday on Halloween:

The employees at the Duane Reade around the corner from my office were literally tearing down Halloween and putting up Christmas ON HALLOWEEN. I love Halloween, please don't let it die out so quickly.

I saw Christmas decorations being arranged well before Halloween at the K-Mart on Astor Place.

Hello? Thanksgiving? Whatever happened to Thanksgiving decorations? Those cardboard and paper turkeys and the pilgrim wall hangings? The paper signs in autumnal colors proclaiming "HAPPY THANKSGIVING!" to your neighbors?

Do they still make hand-turkeys in schools? Or do they skip straight to the construction paper Christmas/Hanukkah/Kwanzaa/Whatever cards?

WHAT ABOUT THE HAND TURKEYS, PEOPLE?

Please, for all of our sakes...don't let the hand-turkey die. Please, please don't do anything Christmassy until after next Thursday. For me. The early xmas is making the Sarah crazy. ♦DiggIt!Add to del.icio.usAdd to Technorati Faves

Friday, November 14, 2008

Too much hair and what to do with it!

My hair is large and in charge. It is curly, it reacts badly to humidity, and it is capable of some of the worst bedhead you have ever seen in your life. Yet, when I was about 18, I managed to straighten it every day. The fact that it was short probably helped, but still, how did I have so much time? I've gone through a couple of phases where I wanted to deny the fact that what my hair really wants to do is this:And I should probably just let it.

While I KNOW this, and I know my hair is dry and in need of a good deep conditioning treatment, and probably a haircut or six, the idea of straightening my hair still pops in there once in a while. Just to try something different every now and then. The only problem with this is that, without fail, this little idea pops into my head when it's raining, or humid, or some other sort of hair destroying weather (100 degree heat comes to mind here). I think that the second my hair realizes that it will not even begin to do what I want it to it sends messages to my brain telling me I should straighten it. That's right, I believe my hair has a mind of its own.
Look, if it's capable of sprouting a grown man out of it, it's capable of anything.

Speaking of curly hair, for those of you out there who have it and are confused about what to do with it, here is some simple advice:

1) Use shampoo and conditioners specifically marketed for curly hair. I like Pantene's version myself. It really does make a difference.

2) DO NOT BRUSH YOUR HAIR after you get out of the shower. I'm serious. Brush it before you get in the shower and run your fingers through it while conditioning it. Then leave it the hell alone.

3) Stop using gel and hairspray. It is not the 90s anymore (as much as I long for them sometimes), step away from the Dep. Instead, try a finishing cream. My favorite is Tresemme Anti-Frizz Secret.

Turn off the water in your shower, flip your head a couple of times to get the excess water out, and wrap it in a towel for the amount of time it takes you to brush your teeth and shave your armpits. (For those of you who do not do these things when you get out of the shower, then keep the towel on for 3-5 minutes) Then:
A) Gently remove the towel
B) Put a little cream in your hands and smooth it over your head, top to bottom. Do NOT run your fingers through it.
C) Put a little more cream in your hands and flip your head over. Then scrunch, gently all around your head.
D) Flip hair over to one side of your head and scrunch again.
E) Repeat on other side of head.
G) Let air-dry
H) KEEP YOUR DAMN PAWS OFF OF IT.

After all that?

Voila!


(The Cigar is optional)
Curls!

And if all that fails? Look, ponytail holders are out there for a reason, there's no need to fry your hair beyond recognition. Embrace the curls! ♦DiggIt!Add to del.icio.usAdd to Technorati Faves

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

California Dreaming

I survived the crazy family tour, but not unscathed.
The first stop was Seth's mom's house, where we ate homemade corn chowder and sour-dough rolls fresh out of the oven. Seth's mother presented me with a gift, which caught me off guard in that "Shit. Was I supposed to get YOU a gift too?" kind of way. Betsey Johnson socks which were adorable and saved my butt because it was a lot colder out there than I was expecting it to be. We woke up the next morning and bummed around the house for a bit before heading out to Grandma and Grandpa's where I was presented with another gift. (DAMMIT) Grandpa's not as young as he used to be and originally thought Seth was somehow his great grandchild. Once he got over that he was pretty easy going and took me aside to make sure I was a reader and to show me the books he likes. I was thankful that I had a book on me so I was able to go, "Yes! Definitely a reader! Look! I have a book right here! That I am reading! Because I like to read!" Ahem....not to sound over eager or anything...um...yeah.

We managed to convince Grandma and Grandpa to come back to Seth's mom's house for dinner, but took a detour on the way home. Grandma has a thing for discounts and decided to present her favorite grandsons with day old bread. A LOT of day old bread. So we stopped by the duck pond where we were LITERALLY ATTACKED BY RABID DUCKS. No, seriously...check it:They marched out of the water as soon as we arrived and surrounded us:

Seth, his brother and I threw bread at each other and got to feel the curious sensation of ten ducks pecking our toes. I wouldn't advise it.

Seth's mom made a delicious beef stew for all of us, which I ate a lot of, impressing parents and grandparents alike with the size of my appetite. Hooray for being a fatty!

The next day the three of us headed out to Seth's dad's house where I almost murdered my boyfriend. You see, Seth had mentioned that he grew up in a big house his father built, and that a lot of people had docks in their back yards. What I pictured was an old beachfront community, or lake houses or something. What I was not picturing was a GATED FUCKING COMMUNITY. With a golf course next door and palm trees. I WAS NOT PREPARED FOR THIS AT ALL. Seth's brother and I were outside talking a little while after we arrived when a covered golf cart went by, followed almost immediately by a teenager on a four-wheeler. It was at that point that I collapsed onto the grass and had to lie down for a little bit.

When Seth showed me around the house and got to the room his father and step-mother had converted into a movie theatre I beat the crap out of him. "OW! You're acting like I have an ex-wife and two kids!"
"This" punch. "is pretty much" punch punch punch. "the same" punch punch "to" punch. "me." punch punch punch punch punch. "Asshole."

Please check out the view from the guest bedroom balcony:


I can't get the picture to turn, but you get the general idea.

Oh, and please note that the balcony is bigger than my bedroom.

Dude could have said SOMETHING, you know?

There was only one major foot in mouth moment when I decided to tell Seth's father, the pastor, about the time my father draped himself in snakes and told the Jehovah's witnesses that we worshipped Satan in our house. Um...oops.

After visits with all the step siblings and their kids and some burritos (HOLY WEST COAST BURRITO, BATMAN), we headed to San Francisco to chill out and hang out with friends. It was very nice to be able to not worry about what was coming out of my mouth for a little while. I also met that friend that I was scaaaaaaaared of meeting. She was not as scary as I thought she would be and even gave me a hug!

So all in all it was a good trip. And I'm happy that the meet the family part is out of the way, but wish we had more time in SF with friends. ♦DiggIt!Add to del.icio.usAdd to Technorati Faves

Wednesday, November 05, 2008

Oh Right

And this



Try getting it out of your head.

Also?

YAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!!!! ♦DiggIt!Add to del.icio.usAdd to Technorati Faves

I know, I know.

I posted this before.




But we COULD. And we DID. And that is AMAZING.

Holy shit, guys...we DID IT. ♦DiggIt!Add to del.icio.usAdd to Technorati Faves

Tuesday, November 04, 2008

AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!! Or "Liveblogging from Greenwich Village"

People are screaming, whooping and hollering in the streets. Horns are honking. Strangers are high-fiving and smiling at each other. There are shouts of "OBAMA!!!!" coming from taxis, apartments and bars.


I can not begin to explain how different this feels from the last election. People are HAPPY. No one is drinking whiskey and mourning.

So this is what history feels like. I love it. ♦DiggIt!Add to del.icio.usAdd to Technorati Faves

Vote Vote Vote Vote...Voted!

My right to vote was taken away during the last election.

I knew I was going to be in Portland for election day, so I applied for an absentee ballot in late September and was assured I wouldn't have any problems. A week before the election, when my ballot had still not arrived, I called the New York State Board of Elections and was once again assured that my ballot would turn up in time for the election. Finally, the day before the election I called again and told them that, no, I had still not received my ballot and what the hell was going on here?

They basically told me that I was shit out of luck.

After the election had passed and New York had (thankfully) gone blue, I found out that just about everyone else I knew who had applied for an absentee ballot that year had never received it.

That's just screwed up.

So I just voted in my first presidential election and it felt good. And tomorrow I go to CALIFORNIA!

I lent Seth my little rolling suitcase that I've used for all my trips this year thinking I had another one and forgetting that Dusty had taken it. So now I'm heading out with a GIGANTIC suitcase which will end badly because I am the mother of all over packers. Especially when I'm nervous and don't know what to wear for any given occasion. Enough outfits for a month? Probably. Too many pairs of shoes? Check. (I once brought ten pairs of shoes, including heels, to a seven day trip to my grandmother's house. My grandmother lives in a cobble-stoned and very steep village in France. There is no way in hell I would be wearing heels there. Ever.)

On top of all that I'm going to get my period this week (and you were wondering why this post was tagged "TMI" HAH!) which means, because I am reaaaaaaaally paranoid, I will also be bringing just about every pair of underwear I own. Because I am out of my damn mind.

And now we wait for the results to come in.

It can't go to McCain, can it? Could anyone possibly vote for a man who would pick a running mate this stupid?



They just couldn't.

UPDATE: as of 9:30pm it's 174 to 69, and Obama only needs 270 to win.

HELL TO THE YES, PEOPLE! ♦DiggIt!Add to del.icio.usAdd to Technorati Faves

Saturday, November 01, 2008

Seth Saved The Day

And brought me some white paint.It turned out awesome. ♦DiggIt!Add to del.icio.usAdd to Technorati Faves

Thursday, October 30, 2008

Halloween Costume FAIL

Sooo, remember my grand-plan to be a refrigerator for Halloween? The idea came from a kid I went to elementary school with who dressed like a fridge in the third or fourth grade and I thought it was awesome. So at the ripe old age of twenty-four I thought I would do it too! Then I saw this on the Internet:
And thought "YES! YES! My dream costume + blood = awesome!"

So I went to work...and I thought I was doing pretty well, until it came time to paint the damn thing. If you look at the instructions for creating that costume it very clearly says "We spray-painted the entire thing white". Well, they must be LYING because spray-paint does not seem to work very well on cardboard.

Behold:
Yeah...the tape? Totally spray-painted. The cardboard? Not so much.

So now I'm trying to figure out what else I can be that involves this damn box-costume I've built. Maybe a present with a dead head inside? Like in Se7en? Or a kissing booth with a zombie in it? Or...um...a hobo at home?

I have no idea. I'm really at a loss.

And on top of everything else I feel like death on a pancake. I've had this cold for a week or two now and today it was terrrrrrible. The spray-paint fumes? Not helping my headache very much.

So yeah...any ideas would be much appreciated.

If all else fails I'll just cover myself in blood and call it a day. "What are you this year?"

"Bleeding." ♦DiggIt!Add to del.icio.usAdd to Technorati Faves

Love

I can't get the video to embed.

Go here, okay?

http://www.comedycentral.com/videos/index.jhtml?videoId=189761DiggIt!Add to del.icio.usAdd to Technorati Faves

Sunday, October 26, 2008

The Clogs, they are trying to kill me.

The lovely Miss Karin decided yesterday that I should vomit on everything. Or have a seizure. Or perhaps both. She sent me an e-mail with a subject line reading "ahem" and no content other than a link.

A link to something terrible:

Yes, these actually exist.

They are quite possibly the worst shoes I have ever seen in my life. EVER. Ugg Clogs? REALLY? I swear someone out there is trying to kill me. It's the only logical explanation. No one would actually WEAR these...would they?

I'm sorry I subjected you to them, but I couldn't suffer in silence. I just couldn't.

To make up for it, if you are in the NYC area and have a love for donuts, please check out this place: The Doughnut Plant

It's on the Lower East Side and the doughnuts are OUT OF THIS WORLD. Seriously, make a trip. It's worth it.

Kisses!
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Saturday, October 25, 2008

Happy Friday! Er...Saturday. Whatever

I am afraid of a lot of things. I'm afraid of bugs, rats, roaches, vermin in general, dying alone, being an orphan, growing up, the dark, frostbite, falling...the list goes on and on. I am also afraid of exceptionally old people. Not normal old people, but people who seem like they've always been old. Does that make sense?

At the beginning of this semester, in my first class, an exceptionally old person strolled in (with the help of her walker). I would have been perfectly okay with this had she not sat in my line of sight. And by "line of sight" I mean in the seat DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF ME. Not okay.

The scariest part about the exceptionally old lady is that her makeup is always exactly the same. Like it's tattooed on or something. Her eyebrows are painted on, her lips are painted on, she doesn't even look like a person. Which is freaky. She seems very nice, but there's something about her where she looks a little like a corpse already. Just having her in the class freaks me out, for two main reasons:
1) I'm terrified that she's just going to stop showing up to class one day. Because she's dead.
2) I'm afraid that NO ONE is going to mention the fact that the freakishly old lady in our class has suddenly stopped showing up because no one wants to bring up death.

And that just plays into my fears of dying alone, etc etc.
This lady never speaks in class, she nods and smiles, and seems perfectly coherent, but still somehow, absent. Or already dead. She might be a zombie! I wouldn't be able to tell because of all the makeup!

Does that make me terrible? I should probably just make an effort to talk to this woman , as we sit very close to each other twice a week, but I'm afraid to. There's another aspect of it where I'm afraid to talk to her and make a connection if she's going to kick the bucket in the next five minutes.

And the worst part is that I can't tell if that makes me a terrible person or simply a cautious one.

On a completely unrelated note - please read David Sedaris's piece about undecided voters in the upcoming election:

I look at these people and can’t quite believe that they exist. Are they professional actors? I wonder. Or are they simply laymen who want a lot of attention?

To put them in perspective, I think of being on an airplane. The flight attendant comes down the aisle with her food cart and, eventually, parks it beside my seat. “Can I interest you in the chicken?” she asks. “Or would you prefer the platter of shit with bits of broken glass in it?”

To be undecided in this election is to pause for a moment and then ask how the chicken is cooked.


You can read the rest on the New Yorker website, or in this week's New Yorker Magazine.


Also? I have a pimple INSIDE MY NOSE. It hurts like hell.

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Thursday, October 16, 2008

Just let me sit down for five minutes, okay?

So today!

9:00am - left the house

9:30am - Got to the office

9:30am-1:15pm - Sat at my desk, answered e-mails, responded to messages, etc. (Booooooring)

1:15pm-2:00pm (I shit you not) - Starbucks, back to my office with a botched order and BACK TO EFFING STARBUCKS. Longest. Coffee-run Ever.

2:00pm-4:30pm - Back at my desk...nothing to see here, move along. Oh, there was one thing - bought my ticket to CALIFORNIA! Woo hoo!

4:30pm - 4:45pm - Break! Lovely lovely break.

4:45pm - 5:45pm - Work! Showed off my Photoshop skills. Woo hoo!

5:45pm - 6:15pm - Running to the train and up to the garment district before my tailor closed.

6:15pm - Picked up my lovely well fitted bridesmaid dress for the Tigerlily-Boss wedding! (Which is Saturday. By the skin of my teeth, I know. Better late than never, right?)

6:30pm-7:30pm - Shot down to my mom's house, dropped off the dress, talked about the dress, changed my clothes, etc.

7:30pm - 9:30pm - Went to Union Square in hunt of shoes to wear with said bridesmaid dress. Went to five different stores. Ended up purchasing the first pair of shoes I saw at the first store I went to. Of course. Went to Barnes and Noble to find two books I desperately need. They were not in stock. Of course.

9:30pm - now. - Took train to my apartment, picked up a beer. Sat down and took a deep breath, updated blog, etc.

On the schedule for the rest of the evening? It gets better! (In that "this is going to suck" kind of way)

Finish beer and blog.
Throw some clothes in a bag.
High-tail it back to my mom's.
Throw together a two-page paper.
Do a touch of laundry.
Sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

I'm really looking forward to the sleep part.

My mother, my mother's best girlfriend (who happens to be male and straight), and Seth are all heading to the wedding together on Saturday afternoon. Finally, after much deliberation, my mother has decided on an outfit for the wedding which does not a)make her look old, b) make her look out of date or c) make me cringe. I'm very proud of her. It took a couple of tries. But she got it! Woo hoo! The men will most likely be wearing suits.

So, California...Though not the explicit purpose of the trip - I will be meeting Seth's parents and step-parents and grandparents for the first time while I am out there. Which is exciting! And also a little nerve racking. I know it shouldn't be a big deal and it's only fair since Seth has met, oh you know, my ENTIRE FAMILY. And he was fine! So I should be too! Right? Plus I get to see his brother again who I haven't actually seen since well before Seth and I got together. I'm looking forward to that, as well as seeing friends who have been out to visit New York in the past two years.

The other thing that makes me nervous? Meeting Seth's old friend and roommate who I'm (for no particular reason) completely convinced is going to hate me and stab me through the eye. Seth has not done much to quell these fears, though other friends of theirs have. I'm just completely convinced she's not going to like me, or think I'm good enough for her friend. or something. Paranoia much? Hello and welcome.

Oooooookay, back to running around.
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Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Hello Internet!

I'm alive! Hi, yeah...sorry.

Wedding Madness got the best of me and I've been a little stressed out and a little MIA. Oops.

So yeah...Portland was lovely, as was the wedding I attended the following weekend. I rode a horse for the first time! It hurt my butt. I also learned that horses are large scary beasts and being on a cranky one can be a little terrifying. Which might explain my face in this picture:
Uh-huh...having a greeeeeeeat time. (Actually, I had a lovely time when Red [that was his name, Red] was behaving.)

So...what else what else?

I'll bullet the main points because I am running late (of course):

-Seth and I are officially back together. We've changed our Facebook status and everything! Internet sanctioned relationship. Totally official.

-I'm planning on dressing up as a refrigerator for Halloween. I will post pictures.

-I seem to be going to California in about two weeks.

-The Tigerlily is getting married on Saturday and then wedding madness will be over!

-My cousin Anne got married this past Saturday, but unfortunately I had to miss it. I saw the pictures and she looked amazing and happy and yay! Congrats, cousin!

-I saw my Grandmother last week. She's still awesome, in case you were wondering.

-I will get better at blogging once I get back into the swing of things. I am fully aware that this entry was not my best.

KBAI ♦DiggIt!Add to del.icio.usAdd to Technorati Faves

Thursday, September 25, 2008

the day of eating.

when I don't have to post from iPhone I am posting my personal food tour of Portland. Because, holy crap, I love the food here. For now? I am going back to watching 90210, because...oh it GOD...the original is fucking amazing. Love and kitties! ♦DiggIt!Add to del.icio.usAdd to Technorati Faves

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Midnight Dance Party

Ah, Portland. How I love thee.

I got in at 11 last night, Vicky picked me up, and we went to "The Club.". The Club is actually a dive bar with an awesome jukebox and a large assortment of fried foods. Nom nom nom. They also have drink specials like "Jameson and Whatever" for four dollars. I did not partake, because Jameson can sometimes make a girl queasy. Theeeeeen we came back to V's apartment, all four of us, and had a Midnight Dance Party.

And the cops were called on us.

Awesome.

Update: Vicky wanted me to point out that our "Midnight Dance Party" didn't actually start until about 3am. (3am Dance Party just doesn't have the same ring to it) What can I say? I bring the party. ♦DiggIt!Add to del.icio.usAdd to Technorati Faves

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Portland, here I come!

I am on my iPhone again, which makes posting complicated, but I have not updated in about a week now, so I thought I would check in. As I mentioned in the subject: I'm off to Portland! (Oregon, not Maine, in case you were wondering.)

Four years ago I spent about six weeks out there and I absolutely loved it, even if it was the inspiration for the very first "I hate clogs" post. I'm excited to see Vicky, her new apartment and my friends, some of whom I haven't seen since my last visit. Mostly I'm excited about going on vacation. I desperately need it.

Things I learned today:

I could have gotten to the airport a lot quicker if I actually looked at the map. There was no reason for me to go all the way to the bottom of Brooklyn from the upper east side. Oops.

Wearing an "I Love New York" shirt while dragging a giant suitcase all over the city is a stupid idea because people think you are a tourist and I am NOT a tourist. Thankyouverymuch. Hermph.

My grandmother reads this. Hi Gammy! ♦DiggIt!Add to del.icio.usAdd to Technorati Faves

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Relatively Easy

Seth has a crazy painting deadline this week, so he asked me if I would come over and help him out with some stuff and I agreed. One of these helpful things includes cooking, so last night I made Martha's Casserole, a staple of my childhood. (It's also handy because there are lots of leftovers and you don't have to worry about cooking for a while.)

I don't know why the damn thing is so tasty. It's incredibly white-trash and simple, but people love it. And it's really really cheap.

Here's the recipe (in my mother's words):

Martha's Casserole

Boil 8 ounces of wide egg noodles. Cook a pound of hamburger until it's brown. Mix in two 8 ounce cans of tomato sauce. (Drain the hamburger first, otherwise things get a little greasy.) Mix 8 ounces of cottage cheese, 8 ounces of soft cream cheese, and about a quarter cup of sour cream, then mix in one bunch of chopped green onions (use part of the green, too, and trim off the tops and the first layer of skin). Put half the noodles in a casserole (the size I usually use, whatever the hell that is), then put the cream cheese mixture on top. Put the rest of the noodles on top of that, and then the meat mixture on top of THAT. Melt a quarter stick of butter and pour it over the top, then stick it in a 350 oven (don't forget to preheat) for 20 minutes.

Note: I learned last night that any size casserole dish will do. I got all worried because Seth didn't have the size I normally use and I was convinced that the whole thing would be screwed up. I was wrong. I also accidentally used 16 ounces of noodles rather than eight. It's still tasty. I'm eating the leftovers now. Apparently this dish allows a lot of room for error.

(I just reread the recipe and realized that the wording is a little wonky. If anyone wants a better worded version, let me know) ♦DiggIt!Add to del.icio.usAdd to Technorati Faves

Monday, September 08, 2008

Clogs, Stupid Tattoos and Other Things

On my train ride home this evening (after tracking down a text book that was supposed to be "incredibly easy to find because everyone has been using it for years" and only finding it in the third store I went to) I drafted a beautifully written blog entry in my head about the wonders of being in your late teens and early twenties. It was going to be all about the stupid decisions you make and how you'll never be anything like your parents and blah blah blah. Then I got into my apartment and ::poof:: it was gone. So instead you get pictures I took on my iPhone in the last few days.

You also get more bitching about clogs because HOLY SHIT...look at these:
But WAIT...it gets better!


Heels!
I mentioned the heeled clog in my first entry about them...behold.

I took these while stopping in Strawberry after tracking down the G.D. book. (Of which I got the last copy thankyouverymuch) As I continued my way through the mostly awful shoe section I came across the matching boots:


The shoe part appears to be plastic while the rest is made up of a thick sock. Why would you do this? Plastic for rain protection and sock for....? Soaking up rain? (Oh NO. I've just looked up the company, Betseyville, and they appear to be Betsey Johnson. But...but...I love Betsey Johnson. I do not, however, appear to love this particular shoe line. Take a gander. Are those not the worst things you have ever seen? Holy crap. I wear a lot of weird shit, but those are just awful.)

Right. Moving on.

The whole idea behind blogging about stupid decisions came from eyeing this on the train:
It says "Fuck Love" not "Fuck You" which is what it looks like for some reason.

Now, I'm all for tattoos. I have one myself that I am very fond of, and plan on getting at least one more. But the thing about tattoos, for me, is that if you're going to get something like this go all or nothing. Sure this is easy enough to cover up, but what happens when you're in your 40s on a company golfing trip and you keep getting asked why you're wearing long sleeves in ninety degree weather? "Well you see, when I was twenty I thought it would be a really good idea to get 'fuck' written in relatively large letters on my arm." If you're going to get "Fuck Love" get it across your knuckles. It'll fit.

I do believe tattoo acceptance is changing. They are so common among people my age that the corporate world is going to have to (and in some cases has begun to) deal with them. But at the same time, I'm not sure if there will ever be a time when having "fuck" written on your arm permanently will ever be completely okay. And on top of that, "Fuck Love"? What happens when you get married?
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Tuesday, September 02, 2008

Stuff, Things, Etc

Well , well, well. I have had a busy couple of days. For starters - I started classes again! Hooray!

I'm taking Asian American Literature and Pop Culture, and Latino Communities in the U.S. Thrilling, I know. I've only had two classes so far and am already slightly behind on my reading. Awesome! (I am very happy that I decided to take two classes rather than three this semester because I would lose my mind completely.)

In other news the Tigerlily had her Bachelorette Party this weekend and it was lovely lovely lovely. And a little nuts. And awesome. I danced like a maniac and maybe drank my weight in champagne. Like you do. I also stayed up until eight 'o' clock in the morning again, but unlike last time it didn't rain and I got to sleep outside. It was all I had wanted all summer and I finally got to do it after watching an amazing, though bleary, sunrise on the Tigerlily's deck. Then...at NOON, the Tigerlily woke me up and announced that we were going for brunch and pedicures. I tend to be relatively anti-pedicure as I don't like people touching my feet, but I was still drunk when I woke up and it seemed like a lovely idea. So we brunched, and pedicured, and ate food with Carolina and her boyfriend, and Shai came over. Excellent.

In other other news - a while back, when I was posting about my roommates regularly, a couple of people mentioned that I was a little mean about them in the blog. To which I responded, "Meh, they don't read it. No big deal!" Then the other day I realised that one of them just started to read it and now I feel like a bit of an ass. So - my darling Michael - I'm sorry and I love you and I will now only post nice things about you unless you do something really awful like set the house on fire. Kay? Kay!

Yesterday was supposed to be my big day of getting books and getting ready for my first real day of school. But I woke up as Seth was walking into my room to surprise me and the day kind of got away from me what with hanging out and breakfast burritos. It happens sometimes. The not finishing all my reading didn't even end up being an issue, so my day of well earned leisure was totally okay.

Sometimes a girl just needs a day off. ♦DiggIt!Add to del.icio.usAdd to Technorati Faves

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Mystery of the week - Versailles Boutique on 8th Street

Versailles Boutique has been on the corner of 8th street and MacDougal for about as long as I can remember which is a complete mystery to me. "Why is it a complete mystery?" you wonder?

Hello and welcome. Who the hell is shopping at this store? It's super expensive, so it's not strippers, unless they are like...really high end strippers or something. Paris Hilton maybe?
Hold on, there's more:

Seriously...What. The. Fuck.


Aaand it gets worse:
Just LOOK at this stuff! I am completely flabbergasted every time I walk past this place. It just doesn't make sense. The only people who dress like this are drag queens and Lil' Kim and those two markets are simply not enough to keep a high end (high end as in expensive, not classy...obviously.) shop alive for so many years.

The best thing I've found on the place? A review on Yahoo!:

"Cousin to the better known L'impasse across the street, Versailles features more of the same made in France high quality outrageous diva fashion. Pink leather bustiers studded with rhinestones, furry bikinis and slinky low cut evening dresses. Whatever you want that is trendy, you are sure to find it at Versialles."

What the fuck trends are these people following!

What this blurb should read is:

"Cousin to the better known L'impasse across the street, Versailles features more of the same made in France high quality outrageous diva fashion. Pink leather bustiers studded with rhinestones, furry bikinis and slinky low cut evening dresses. If you want to look like a complete whore, please shop Versialles."

Also, "better known L'impasse"? Better known to whom, exactly?

Anyone? Bueller?

This store breaks my brain.
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Friday, August 22, 2008

The lolcats understand me

See?

They understand!

Thanks ICHCB! ♦DiggIt!Add to del.icio.usAdd to Technorati Faves

Thursday, August 21, 2008

iPhone!

I'm posting from my iPhone, Bitches!

It's hard.

The end. ♦DiggIt!Add to del.icio.usAdd to Technorati Faves

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

What year is it? Part II

It's official. We are in a time warp.Everclear, Soul Asylum and Cracker are playing Webster Hall. Together. Tonight. It's definitely 1997. I imagine the show will be filled with people far too old for flannel and bleached hair.

I'm scared.

The Tigerlily also pointed out a trend I forgot to mention in Part I. Pegged Jeans. I found this photo on flickr under the headline "Pegged jeans are totally coming back." Fuck you, dude! Don't say that. It's not funny. ♦DiggIt!Add to del.icio.usAdd to Technorati Faves

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

What year is it?

So I've been seeing a lot of clothing recently that convinces me it is 1993 and not 2008. (Granted, this is coming from a girl wearing cutoff shorts over leggings at the moment, but no matter. I love the 90s and have never fully been able to let them die.) There's a difference between honestly loving the 90s and being a fashion whore. There is also a huge HUGE problem when things like this begin popping up in stores:

You have got to be fucking kidding me. Suede-rhinestone peace sign-heeled clogs. (If you don't know about my hatred of clogs, feel free to catch up.) I took this photo on Saturday, and no, I hadn't been in the TARDIS. (Points for anyone who knows what I'm talking about.) This trend can't be coming back. I won't stand for it!

I'm happy to embrace some throwbacks. Leggings? Fine. I shunned them for a while but MAN are they comfortable. The return of the Bedazzler? Awesome! Bedazzling is fun! (Though the new Bedazzler kind of sucks. It just doesn't seem to work as well as the old one.) The Music? Oh yes. 90s Dance Parties are the absolute best.

And then there are others that I am simply not having. And I keep seeing them, and I keep hoping I'm imagining the whole thing.Motherfucking high-heeled sneakers. No. No. No. No. No. They were not a good idea in 1996 (when I owned not one, but two pairs of chunky heeled tan sneakers) and they are not a good idea now.

They're just so trashy. ♦DiggIt!Add to del.icio.usAdd to Technorati Faves

Monday, August 18, 2008

Dammit Dammit Dammit

Thanks to my mother, I am a relatively good cook. I can roast a chicken, I can make pork chops in various ways, and I make a mean salad dressing. Only two basic things have eluded me: rice and scrambled eggs.

On Sunday morning, for the first time in my life, I managed to make decent scrambled eggs. After being up all night with a group of friends no less! They weren't just broken up fried eggs, they were actually scrambled, and they were tasty! And the right consistency! I was very proud of me.

So tonight I thought I would try rice again. I beat one of my cooking phobias this week, why not try another? Right?

Wrong. I still can't manage to make rice that isn't crunchy in the middle. And this rice is so good too! It's a recipe I got from Seth where you use a can of tomato sauce in place of one cup of water and let the rice cook with diced onions and garlic. Then you melt cheddar cheese on top of it and it's freaking awesome. Except not when it is crunchy.

So attention people who cook - HEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLPPPPPPPPPP!!!

(Now that I think about it, my mother could never do rice too well either. And the woman is incapable of cooking fettuccine. It is without fail uncooked in the middle. Hi Mom! I love you!) ♦DiggIt!Add to del.icio.usAdd to Technorati Faves

Two Quick Things

1) I was a runner-up in the Headline Contest over at Overheard in New York!

In the 70s They Called That a 'Nose Job'.

JAP: I did the whole Manhattan/Long Island/Westchester Jew thing this year.
Guy: How'd that work out?
JAP: I think I'm going to cut that phase in my life.

--NYU

Overheard by: A. Pincus

Headline by: Still got my original nose.

Runners-Up:
· "By Which I Mean the Inside Of My Thigh" - Tadzio
· "I Realized I Can Keep the Sense Of Entitlement Without All That Extra Work." - stoobydoo
· "I Think Hitler Tried That Already...." - Sarah Booz
· "I'll Tell the Guy Who's Ghost-Writing My Autobiography Later Today" - Louis
· "JAP Code for I Was Slutty and Need an Abortion" - Casual Observer
· "Sort Of a "Lifestyle Bris"" - Chris


Click here to see the new Headline Contest


via Overheard in New York, Aug 18, 2008

2) My favorite neighborhood graffiti is gone.

R.I.P. Penis on wheels. ♦DiggIt!Add to del.icio.usAdd to Technorati Faves

Friday, August 15, 2008

What in the world is going on?

No, seriously. This week the following stories have popped up in the news:

1) There is a Flat-Earthers Society. No, really. From Fox News:

"People are definitely prejudiced against flat-Earthers," Tennessee-based computer scientist and society member John Davis tells the BBC. "Many use the term 'flat-Earther' as a term of abuse, and with connotations that imply blind faith, ignorance or even anti-intellectualism."

These people think that the moon landing was faked, as well as the images sent back to us. (Well, naturally. You can't take pictures from the moon if you haven't actu
ally BEEN to the moon, can you?) They also believe that Antarctica forms an ice circle around the entire circumference of the Earth Disk, keeping the atmosphere in or something. That just doesn't seem right to me. But then again, I'm a Round-Earther or "RE'er" for short. Seriously, check out their site. It's fascinating.

2) The Chupacabra has been found! Maybe. A cop claims he saw something that definitely wasn't a dog while on a "routine fence inspection drive" (whatever that is).



I don't know. It looks kind of like a dog to me. It also reminds me of this thing:

With a longer snout. Right?

3) Apparently Bigfoot has been found.
That's him. Dead. Chilling in a freezer. There's a press conference in California at noon today with DNA evidence. All together now - oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooh. And there's more of them! Read the rest of the article here.

I always thought bigfoot looked like this:

(That's a cat I had, years ago, named Bigfoot. Check out the thumbs!)

Thanks to Geekologie for the tips.
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Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Holy Crap! I'm ALIIIIIIIIIVE!

So, yeah...I completely dropped off the face of the planet (okay, fine...just dropped the blog), but I can explain! I really can!

Work, basically, has been a zoo and on TOP of that - our Internet is down at home. So no blogging. See? Told you I could explain. (I win!)

Moving on...

Though Bushwick is not always the safest neighborhood, I am lucky enough to have a police station right down the street from my apartment. There is also a parking lot about a block away where they keep the police cars and I'm just dandy with it. On my way to work the other day, while passing the parking lot, I saw that not everyone is as thrilled with the police presence as I am:


Fuck Pigs. Isn't that lovely? It's literally right outside of the parking lot. I have to give the vandal credit, that takes balls.

In other news - YESTERDAY WAS MY BIRTHDAY! Hooray! I am now officially in my mid-twenties and that is relatively terrifying. I'm not against getting older, it's not something I can get around exactly, but the label scares me. "Mid-Twenties." How the hell did that happen? My present to myself this year was...bum bum bum!...
The gift of sight! Baby got a new pair of spectacles! My prescription had not been changed in about four years and being able to see again is really fucking WEIRD. I'm also having these fun depth perception problems which will pass, but these things are taking some getting used to. Please feel free to use the comments section to tell me how much you love my new glasses and how pretty I am.

Also - Also - Also - I finally tried Artichoke Bassile Pizza last night. I had the signature slice which was amazing, but a little too rich for my tastes. It's most certainly a share with a friend kind of snack. My pal M, who was nice enough to treat me to a birthday slice, likened it to a flat bread bowl,. I was reminded of a really good spinach artichoke dip and bread sticks. Something you can only eat so much of. I plan on going back and trying one of their tamer slices, but am disappointed that I didn't try this place sooner. I keep seeing reviews that say this place was a lot better when it first opened. I guess I'll never know.

But I'm alive! And blogging again! Happy, Garlic? ♦DiggIt!Add to del.icio.usAdd to Technorati Faves

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

The End of an Era

When I was fifteen or sixteen I discovered a coffee shop in the East Village called Cinema Classics and fell in love. You could stay as long as you liked, smoke inside, watch movies in the back and they made a mean chai latte. What was not to love? I went to Cinema Classics just about every day, hung out with friends, hung out alone, read books. (They had these great big cushioned window seats that you could curl up on for hours.) I took boyfriends there and knew the baristas...it was home. Slowly but surely, when I was seventeen, they started stocking booze and I found out that very shortly Cinema Classics the coffee shop would be no more, that the owner wasn't making enough money and decided to turn it into a bar. I didn't know when, but I knew it would be soon. It happened during my senior year of high school. I walked up after school with a friend of mine and tried the door. It was locked. The manager of the place, a guy named Ben, opened the door, said, "We're a bar now, we open at seven." and shut the door in my face.

The bar it became was Rififi and it only took about a year before I was back in there. My friend Lauren Flax (DJ Extraordinaire) and I were hanging out one night and she goes, "You have to come to Rififi and meet this bartender I have a crush on." (Underage drinking used to be a lot easier back then.) So I did, and it turned out that the bartender Lauren had a crush on was a girl I knew through a friend from high school and hadn't seen in years. Then, a few weeks later, I realized that someone else I knew (Karin) also worked at the bar. So I started hanging out there. When I was living in Boston I would come back to New York on the weekends and head straight to Rififi. There were four regular bartenders at the time and a whole slew of regulars and we all became good friends. Someone made a Friendster profile for the bar (that's how long ago this was) and it received comments like, "It's my "'Cheers'" to which someone responded, "Mine too. "'Where everybody knows your name.' Along with your dating history, music tastes, and financial situation." Because it was true. If you had nothing to do on any night of the week you could just head to Rififi and know that you'd know someone. I would head to Rififi after Christmas dinner with the family to hang out with the one Jewish bartender. We would play truth or dare and drink eggnog. People would come and go, but there was always a pretty solid group of regulars that you could count on.

There were nights when it was slow and whoever was working would shut down the bar so we could hang out until dawn watching movies in the back. (They still showed movies for a while.) After a while that all calmed down and they started doing comedy shows in the theater which attracted big names (Michael Showalter, David Cross, etc), on Sundays and Thursdays there were burlesque shows. It was a lot of fun. I even ended up working at the damn place for a while a couple of years ago.

In the past year or so I haven't hung out there nearly as much as I used to. Most of the people I knew who worked there quit or were fired, and I wasn't quite in the mood to make new friends. (There was also the added bonus of being unceremoniously fired myself.) So I went less and less, but it was still my go to bar when there was nothing else to do. Because, well, I grew up there. It felt comfortable.

For almost a year now rumors have been circulating that the bar would be closing, but it never happened. Then Tuesday night I got a text message from Karin saying, "Rififi closes tomorrow." And it was true. Wednesday night was the last night the bar was open. It was somehow fitting that bartender was completely random and I had to pay for drinks. It made it easier to say goodbye. My boss (who, oddly enough, I met at Rififi) likened the bar to "an old friend who you thought would always be there." Which I think is appropriate.

Friday night and nothing to do? To Rififi. When I saw my ex boyfriend for the first time in four years and it was terrible? I went straight to Rififi. When my friend got into a fist fight on First Avenue at 4:30 in the morning that resulted in my broken glasses and his broken nose? Rififi. Because I knew someone there would be able to provide napkins, ice, and whiskey.

So Rififi, I would like to thank you for the following things:

-My steady employment for the last four and a half years (Every job I've had in that time has been for someone I met at Rififi or at the bar itself)
-That guy I dated for over six months
- Embarrassing moments:
-Good Friends
-And a shit ton of free drinks. ♦DiggIt!Add to del.icio.usAdd to Technorati Faves