Saturday, December 23, 2006

We finally got a tree!









On Tuesday night, Jamie and I walked down to the CVS on 9th between 5th and 6th, picked out a beauty of a tree, loaded it onto the B63 bus, and took her home.

She's a lovely lass and so far the cat has only shimmied up her 9 or 10 times. Actually, there's a big open spot on one side where Ruthie has created a doorway of sorts.

Friday, December 22, 2006

on the nightstand

I've been working at the Chelsea Barnes and Noble for the past 2 months and ,oddly, I really love it. I used to work for a smaller, regional bookstore in Ohio and I loved that too, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised.

One of the little perks is the ability to borrow any hard cover book to read. Here's a partial list of what I've read recently.

Female Chauvintist Pigs by Ariel Levy
I really liked this, but she wasn't saying anything that I wasn't already on board with. Basically, why do young women today dress and act like whores, but call it feminism? Girls Gone Wild world indeed.

Blink: The Power of Thinking Without Thinking by Malcom Gladwell
I didn't really care for it. The Tipping Point was much more interesting.

Heat by Bill Buford
It got a little sluggish at points, but he's a good writer, so overall it was really good. My favorite part was when he travelled to Italy to train with a famous butcher.

The Nasty Bits by Anthony Bourdain
Always enjoyable. I read him blindly because he can do no wrong.

What Is the What by Dave Eggers
I couldn't put this down. It just floored me to realize that what reads as complete fantasy (how can life be so awful?), is actually complete truth.

Freakonomics by Steven Levitt and Stephen Dubner
This was interesting, much like the Tipping Point.

The Way We Eat: Why Our Food Choices Matter by Peter Singer and Jim Mason
I'm currently reading this. I may end up eating 10% of my present meat consumption by the time I'm through.

Next up:
The Omnivore's Dilemma: A Natural History of Four Meals by Michael Pollan
The United States of Arugula:How We Became a Gourmet Nation by David Kamp

Suite Francaise by Irene Nemirovsky
She wrote these WWII set stories during the war before being killed in a concentration camp. They were more recently found.

Half of a Yellow Sun by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
This has been referred to as a sweeping fictional epic, ala Gone With the Wind, but set in Nigeria.

Curse of the Narrows by Laura McDonald
This is about the near total destruction of Halifax in 1917.

Mayflower: A Story of Courage, Community, and War by Nathaniel Philbrick
He wrote an amazing book about the whaling ship on which Moby Dick was based called In the Heart of the Sea.

Off the Books: The Underground Economy of the Urban Poor by Sudhir Alladi Venkatesh
This guy's research was extensively cited in Freakonomics.


So yeah, loads of good stuff out there; never enough time in the day. Any suggestions of other books I should check out?

Thursday, December 21, 2006

shilling for diamonds

Ugh. Has anyone else seen the new 'A Diamond is Forever' commercial where the guy goes in to his sleeping lady and places a fancy diamond earring on her because he loves her THAT MUCH? Diamond ads as a rule peeve me. Remember the one with the tool standing in the middle of an Italian piazza hollering "I love this woman"? What a turd. Earlier this year there was another diamond ad that had a Dusty Springfield song (What are you doing the rest of your life) and now this new ad has Cat Power doing a Cat Stevens song (How can I tell you). I think it troubles me more that Cat Stevens gave up his song than that Cat Power sings it for diamonds. Luckily the ads will stop running so frequently once the holidays are over and all of those last minute shopping guys have blown a bunch of cash on an artificially priced rock. Or three; for yesterday, today and tomorrow.

Tuesday, December 12, 2006

If we were landlords...

Shit wouldn't get done. We are dreamers; not so good as getting the little, practical things done. And our landlords, who we love, are a lot like us. We've lived in this apartment for about 2 1/2 years and for that entire time our fridge has been leaking cold air, gathering condensation on the outside, humming so loudly that they (the landlords) have complained about the noise of it in their apartment downstairs and generally pissing Jamie off with the wastefulness. And also for this time, our landlords have probably mentioned at least 5 times that they are buying us a new fridge. And today, out of the blue, the guy landlord called and wants to know if he can give Lowe's our number so we can schedule the delivery of our brand new fridge! Merry Christmas indeed.

ok, just one more thing


At the risk of offending fans of Gilmore Girls and many women and men in general, it has to be said: I miscarried during Gilmore Girls. During the show that once was my favorite program, but has sucked more than I thought possible this past season. Is it possible that the supreme suckiness of Gilmore Girls contributed to this? Should I hold the new writers and their ridiculous elopement plot accountable? Damn you, absent Sherman-Palladinos!

Monday, December 11, 2006

disjointed

I am pretty sensitive, but I'm also pretty practical. I refuse to allow myself to fall apart or dwell too much on losing this baby. It was out of my hands and, beyond the neccessary grieving, I'm not helping myself or Jamie. Tonight I got a little upset and cried for a few minutes. Just cried about how it feels like a dream. Like maybe it was all a dream and I never was actually going to have a baby. But then I see the maternity pants that my mom gave me, that I never even wore and I know it really happened. I feel frustrated that I never was able to really get comfortable and settle in to being pregnant. Do you ever get to do that or are you always worried about having a miscarriage?

That said, here's the one incident that occured where I didn't really hold my shit together too well. At work last week, a coworker had just learned about the miscarriage. Not to be too judge-y(I'm lying), but she's about 39-40 years old, recently moved here from Florida (born and raised) with waist length hair. I don't know if you know people from Florida, but I can barely contain my skeevies around Floridians. Who in the world would choose to live in a place like that? Hot, humid, full of idiot college students, retirees, trailer parks and people who couldn't cut it in real states. But I digress. So upon learning what happened, she said "how far along were you?" and I said "9 weeks" and she said "well that's good at least". I then said "Oh really? What's so good about it? That when I held it in my hands in my bathroom, my husband and I couldn't see the expression on it's face?" Um, yeah. So I snapped. Whatever. It was bound to happen eventually.

We've really appreciated all of the emails and calls we've received from our friends, all the more so with the understanding that there is nothing good to say at times like these. And all of our friends have managed to say exactly what we needed to hear; that they are sorry because it is sad. And in a weird way, I'm grateful that my miscarriage happened the way it did. It was over quickly and completely, after 5 days. For that, I'm eternally grateful. The sooner to move forward, I suppose.

So thank you.

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

it came apart, it will come back together

So, unknown to most, Jamie and I were expecting a kid. Based on the first ultrasound, which still hangs on the fridge, we'd taken to calling it "Dot". My pregnancy was going along pretty well. No morning sickness, just utter exhaustion and sore boobs. But for some reason, I don't know if I ever did commit myself to it entirely, mentally. I don't know if I trusted it, I guess. It took me so long to get pregnant, I don't think I could quite believe it at first. But over the past few weeks, I really started to embrace it, as much as I could. I guess tempered with a healthy dose of realism.

On Monday I woke up feeling crappy, had a cold. Then I started bleeding, lightly. I called my doctor. By the time Monday night rolled around, the bleeding was fairly steady and not as light. They sent me to a place Tuesday morning to have a sonagram. Despite the ongoing bleeding, my worst fears weren't realized. Surprisingly, not only was I still pregnant, but I could see how much the little thing had grown since the last ultrasound and, even better, I could see the heartbeat and it was strong and healthy. So, I came home and talked to my doctor again. He scheduled me to come in to the office Wednesday morning (today).

Then late yesterday afternoon the bleeding got worse. Around 7:30 I started having contractions and by 9pm, I was no longer pregnant. I think I've spent more time in my not so tidy little bathroom in the past 24 hours than I ever thought possible. But never in a million years did I envision standing in my bathroom, holding an embryo in my hand. An embryo which I then had to put in a bag and take to the doctor with me, for potential chromosome testing.

I'm an emotional person and the hormonal stuff that's been going on certainly doesn't make it easier, but I do have a sense of tranquility about this. I know that if this specific kid was meant to be, I would have carried it to term. I'll be grateful when the immediate nature of this fades a bit; when the physical pain stops and I can start thinking about it from a different angle, instead of constant twisting in my gut, sharp pains and having to wear what I can only describe as a ladydiaper.

For an added layer of wierdness, yesterday was our 3rd wedding anniversary.

Monday, November 20, 2006

Home to Ohio

Jamie and I went to Ohio last week to visit my family and celebrate my grandma's 80th birthday. At the party, one of her oldest friends, Bea, came and they caught up with each other. Bea is 96 years old and rather fiesty. The Amish restaurant where we ate had each place set with a different flavor of pie. Upon sitting down, Bea pulled a "What in the world could that be?", pointed in the opposite direction, and swapped her pie for someone else's. Love it! My grandma is the lovely silver haired lady on the right.



Later, Grandma and I did a StoryCorps interview.




And these are my parent's dogs. For perspective, the "little" dog in the second picture is actually a 60 pound standard poodle.


Monday, November 06, 2006

Heather's Halloween Birthday Bash!










After putting out a woman's flaming hair. Hallelujah!



Super Conductor & the Rev.
Everyone's favorite EskiHo.
Father Referee, Professor Chaos & H.I. McDonough.



Friday, November 03, 2006

Arlo & Lobstie


I was a sensitive child


When I was a little girl, I watched Snoopy Come Home one night when it came on tv. I think I was about 4 years old. If you don't remember the plot of that one, it was basically that Snoopy found out that his original owner, before Charlie Brown, was sick and he decided to go to her. So he left Charlie Brown. Charlie was really, really sad. And I was inconsolable, hysterical actually. I couldn't believe Snoopy could do that to poor Charlie Brown.

So right now on Cartoon Network, they are showing Race For Your Life, Charlie Brown. It's based around the Peanuts gang being in a raft race at summer camp when a big storm causes them all to get lost, thinking the others are hurt or dead. Snoopy and Woodstock have their own raft and they get sent ass over teakettle, losing each other. At one point during the storm, it looks like they are both going to drown. I remember seeing this one when I was closer to 9 or 10; old enough to not take it so seriously. But I don't really think I can be comfortable with any little, little kid of mine watching a movie where everyone almost drowns and gets stranded in the woods!

filled with rage

So I went to the Post Office on 9th Street. Get in line. 25 minutes later, only one customer has been moved ahead. They only have 2 windows open. There are about 14-15 people in line, 5 of which are ahead of me. After 25 minutes of standing there, this employee starts yelling through the plexiglass at me. "Miss, Miss. There's no dogs here"(Arlo was with me). It took everything I had in me not to say, "no, you fucking moron. Obviously there is a dog here. You're looking at him, you uneducated, power hungry douchebag.". But instead I mumbled " I hate this fucking place", to which another line stander responded "Amen to that."

Thursday, October 19, 2006

Sunday, October 01, 2006

Thursday, September 21, 2006

Whipping Shitties


Since my mom's family is Southern and my dad's is from southern Ohio, it's a minor miracle that I don't sound like a complete hillbilly every time I open my mouth to speak. But having grown up all over the US and overseas, meeting people from every corner of America, I've always been cued in to and fascinated by regional dialects. My cousins in Alabama always made fun of me for saying "pop" to their "co-cola", a term that I'll always use, no matter how far I am from Ohio.

A while ago I was trolling around looking up dialectology on the web and I came across a
linguistics survey that is incredibly thorough and really cool. It took over an hour to do, but the results were interesting and it's well worth the time. The survey was originally done in 2001 and those results are available, broken down by state if you'd like.

A couple of my favorites include:
What do you call it when rain falls while the sun is shining?
One option: The devil is beating his wife.

What do you call the activity of driving around in circles in a car?
One option: Whipping shitties.

Apparently that term is more common to Minnesota. So, if you've ever wondered who uses the term Irish shower, French bath, whore's bath, etc, you should give it a whirl. Or a whirlygig. Or a helicopter.

Saturday, September 16, 2006

Please please please















So in recent months, I've been struck by a case of the giggles every time I see or think about the Oregon State Lottery logo. I think it may be my very favorite state lottery logo.

Some state lottery logos try to evoke the bucolic nature of the state itself (Maine, Minnesota). Many have changed their name or logo in recent years to reflect that it's an education lottery (North and South Carolina, New Hampshire has graduation caps being tossed in theirs).

And then there are my personal favorites, those that perhaps have a tagline or just an awesome design. My very favorite logo is Oregon's. It's simple and to the point. My second favorite has to be Texas because it evokes the rootin' tootin' good time you'll have, probably with guns, when you win the Texas lottery. Third in line is Ohio and not just because it's my home state. I love the Odds Are, You'll Have Fun tagline. I was hoping to find the actual NY lottery logo with the occasional tagline we hear on commercials, the "Hey, you never know", said by that guy with the casual, almost lazy voice. And pulling up fourth would be the Virginia logo. It's a lot like the Oregon logo, but makes good use of the V in Virginia.

Pickles!










I'm not sure how it snuck up on me this year, but tomorrow is the 6th International Pickle Day, complete with a street fair hawking everything pickled! Oh man, my mouth waters just thinking about it. Last year, I tried and became a devotee to a Pickled Lime and Ginger condiment from Kalustyan's. Diced and mixed with plain jasmine rice, it has become my go-to meal for every day.

So if you like pickles of all kinds ( I personally am a Pickle Guys girl.................Smells Great, Tastes Better), kimchi in all forms, pickled beets, eggs, asparagus, cauliflower, watermelon rind, make your way to Orchard Street between Broome and Grand. It runs from 10am-4:30 pm. It's also right by the LES Farmer's Market and a stone's throw from the Doughnut Plant and Kossar's Bialys. I know I'm certainly not the only one who believes this, but Kossar's, the Doughnut Plant and the Pickle Guys are the trifecta of New Yorkiness in my opinion.

Sunday, July 30, 2006

Jake the Snake!

This article is about a friend of mine from my hometown. When we were in high school there used to be a toy store we would drive to in Columbus, a magical toy store that was open either all night or just ridiculously late, where he would buy these. I remember one time when we went there were a ton of them in the sale bin, just piled on top of each other (rather appropriate really). His eyes lit up and he practically started shivering with the anticipation. I always had a soft spot for Mankind and we frequently imitated him.

It's nice to see the collection in all its glory ( in the background of the picture).

Sunday, July 23, 2006

Asbury Park is the place to go

Me, Jamie, Marc and Jim took a trip in June to Asbury Park, NJ to celebrate the birthdays of our friends Shawn and Chris. If you've never been, run to Asbury Park! It was so much fun. Definitely the best weekend trip I've taken.

The highlight was Asbury Lanes, a great old bowling alley with a low stage built over the center lanes for bands to play on. The finest alley I've ever been to. I believe it was 12 bucks, including shoe rental, a great ball selection (unlike Melody Lanes) nice bar and one of the best DJs I've ever heard. 50's and 60's girl groups, 60's and 70's obscure R & B and the occasional GBV. One of the bands playing was called BreakUpBreakdown and I thought they were really good. Especially considering they were playing with the crash of strikes and spares all around them.

One of the kickers of Asbury Lanes specifically is that the city of Asbury Park is actually trying to use eminent domain to give them the boot. I'm not sure if Asbury Park realizes it, but that bowling alley is without a doubt the coolest thing in that town. sigh.

So here are a few pictures:

An unfortunate shot taken while I was figuring out the shutter speed. Unfortunately hilarious.

You can kind of see the stage on the right:

Asbury Lanes:


Asbury Lanes, "Bowl Where you see the Magic Triangle":

The old movie theatre, abandoned like so much of AP:

Balgavy seemed to be having a good time too:

The Wonder Bar, where the all lesbian Led Zeppelin cover band, Lez Zeppelin, was playing:

The Convention Center:

HoJo's in Asbury Park, under renovations:

Do Not Bug


This past weekend I have gotten over a dozen phone calls from "Out of Area" with no number shown (we have Caller ID). Naturally I haven't answered these calls, although I was curious about what annoying telemarketer kept phoning, despite our registration on the Do Not Call list. So this afternoon I was washing dishes and the phone rang yet again. This time I decided to answer it, just to get them to stop calling. Unfortunately, in the process of getting to the phone, I stepped on Arlo and kicked the crap out of Ruthie. Sorry guys.

And who was on the phone? The Police Benevolent Association. And because they are a charity, they don't have to pay any attention to the Do Not Call list. Gggrrrrr. They called 2 different times last year and both times I told them to remove me from their list. I asked the guy today if they've been calling me all weekend and he said that, yes, they are calling people within my number range this weekend. I asked him if they will remove a person's number when asked to do so. He said absolutely. I informed him that I have twice requested that they stop calling me and I am requesting it again. And he immediately, wordlessly hung up on me.

I always get the icky feeling that I am going to be harrassed by the police or arrested for jaywalking (virtually impossible in NYC) because I don't want to support the PBA. In the midwest everyone has those stupid PBA stickers on their cars, totally believing it'll keep them from getting pulled over or that they'll be let off easy if they are pulled over. But just like those ridiculous (and fabulous!) Ziggy stickers you get in the mail courtesy of the March of Dimes (is that the one?), they mail you the PBA stickers unbidden. So what's to stop someone from just slapping the stickers on their car even though they don't donate any money?

Thank God I don't actually drive in this town. They probably have some big list somewhere with the names of people like me on it. Sassmouths who keep F*#k tha Police queued up at all times, just waiting for the PBA to call.



Addendum:
Just saw this. Looks like the myth of the PBA was just that.

Saturday, July 15, 2006

Auntie Maim

So this week developed about as far off from my expectations as possible. Observe:

My 18 year old niece was flying in last Sunday night for a 2 week visit/graduation present. The back story of the niece is one that blows my mind a bit, but is not that unusual, given where I'm from. She's from small town Ohio, born and raised, and with the exception of a visit to my grandma's house in Tennessee when she was single digit age, she's never been out of central Ohio. Never flown, never seen a city larger than Columbus (barely a "city" that). Her parents never encouraged any involvement in activities, be it sports, music, uh reading. Nothing. As a result, she's never participated in anything, never developed a passion of any kind. She doesn't listen to music or read books. She doesn't even read magazines.

Her immediate family is something of an anomaly among the family as a whole. They are estranged from the rest of us, having openly and often referred to my other brother and I as "stuck up" and "fake". I was told by them that my belief that college as neccessary and valuable is basically high falutin' snob talk. Because they both work in physical labor and damn it, it's good enough for them. My sister-in-law's family is particularly stellar. One of her sisters has 4 kids, all different fathers, 2 of which are in jail. Her own 21 year old niece (who also has a baby whose father is in jail) was just shot when a drug deal went poorly. Her brother has 3 kids, all different mothers. My brother dropped out of high school, got kicked out of the military and has spent 3 years of his life behind bars. So as you can see, I always thought it was really important to try to be a good role model for my niece and I hoped to expand her world view in some small way. She seemed very excited about the trip and suggested that it be a 2 week long visit.

Before her arrival, I had asked her to think about things she wanted to see and do while here. That was one of the good things about the visit being so long; at least she'd really get a feel for it. So last Sunday evening, we picked her up at LaGuardia. We were anxious about any number of things. Did we buy the right type of groceries? What the hell do you do with an 18 year old? I had told her that I would teach her the subway system and get her a Metrocard and I expected her to explore some on her own before the end of the 2 weeks. She had always been an adventurous kid and seems that at 18, there's no better time to explore New York.

So as we see her walking through the airport, her cell phone connected to her ear, a slouchy, sullen teenaged vibe about her, we really should have run screaming. Instead we load her into the car and head home to Brooklyn to catch up and eat dinner.

Us: So, what are some of the things you'd like to do while you're here?
Her: I dunno.
Us: Well, is there anything particular you'd really like to see? Times Square? Statue of Liberty?
Her: I haven't really thought about it.

Well shit. She then proceeded to tell us about her cousin and her cousin's boyfriend getting shot (see above) . And shit again.

On to dinner. She is what's referred to by my mother and grandmother as a "good eater". In their world this means someone (esp. a young person) who eats vegetables and is not terribly picky and goes back for seconds. I was known as a good eater too. But even with this ringing endorsement of her gustatory prowess, I was concerned. A not-too-picky eater in small town Ohio, with parents who don't cook and meals that usually involve something from a box is not the same thing as a not-too-picky eater in NYC, especially in my house. So I tried to cook things for the first meal that were somewhat familiar, but without having to feel ashamed of myself. I mean really, I can only dumb it down so much. So we got some homemade sausages (pork and brocolli rabe and chicken apple) from Fairway, which were grilled. I made tabouli and I made potato salad with purple potatoes, jicama and whole grain mustard. To her credit, she tasted everything. And hated everything. So she made herself a sandwich. Thank God Jamie bought the deli meat, otherwise she would have starved.

After dinner we decided to walk her around the neighborhood, to help her get her bearings, show her where the subway is, bagel shop, bodega, etc. It was the night before trash pick-up, so bags were on the sidewalks. Here is a sampling of some of the things said:

What's that smell?
Is it safe to be walking out here? {it was 9:30pm}
Why is there garbage everywhere?
Why don't people use trash cans?
What's that smell?


The smell question was repeated about 4 more times. At one point she said she felt weird because in Delaware (our hometown), everyone knows her, but here nobody knew her. It was funny because I left Delaware when I was 18 years old and it was precisely because everyone knew who I was. On the plus side, it was the most she'd said all night and by far the longest sentence she'd uttered. She proceeded to talk to her boyfriend 3 times that night. At one point I heard her say "there's garbage everywhere".

So the next day, Monday, I had to work until 1:30, but I'd be home at 2. I gave her a TimeOut NY and asked her to think about what she wanted to do that afternoon/evening when I got home. I made many, many suggestions to help her come up with ideas. When I got home at 2, she was dozing on the couch watching MTV. I asked her if she ate breakfast and she said no. She didn't want to try granola because it looked too weird and she wouldn't eat the Cheerios or Mini-Wheats because she's never had soy milk and didn't want to try it. She didn't like the OJ because of the pulp. When asked what she did finally eat, I was told "a sandwich". So she'd been here for 2 meals and both consisted of a sandwich. Great. So I mustered up some excitement because, hey! now comes a fun part.....exploring NYC! What would you like to do?

Her: I dunno.

Are you kidding me?!?!?! What is it going to take to get this girl to make a decision?! So after much back and forth, I made the executive decision that we were going to Union Square. At least there she could visit a couple of big chain stores to make her feel at home, ie, Barnes and Noble and Forever21. But oh, yeah, she doesn't read. So we go. She asks a question about a man we saw in our neighborhood with a turban (are there a lot of people like that here?). The boyfriend calls twice while we're in Union Square. Another conversation:

Me: What do you like to do for fun?
Her: I dunno { I know this seems typical or cliche, but it really is what she says}
Me: Well, what do you and Scott do when you go out?
Her: Well, Scott really likes movies so he takes me to the movies.
Me: Okay. And what about you? What do you like?
Her: I dunno.

Repeat ad nauseum. My mother and husband will tell you that nothing can get me fired up faster than a woman who either has no opinion or won't ever voice it. Someone who meekly goes along with whatever a man decides. A woman with no personal goals, only hoping to make a man happy. Someone like my niece. Oh God, this is going to be rough. I said nothing though. It wouldn't do any good to preach. Teach by example.

So I asked her about college. Right now she lives with her boyfriend and his parents because she and her parents had a fight and in March they kicked her out. She said she wants to go, but right now she doesn't plan on going this fall. She's going to take some time off. Because she's a manager now at Burger King and she's looking for a full time job that will give her benefits. And because she and Scott are planning on getting their own apartment. Oh God.

So we come back to the apartment and she immediately asks if she can go for a walk, cell phone attached to her ear. When she comes back, she tells me that she's going back to Ohio early. How early, I ask? Tomorrow. Why?

It smells here.
There's garbage everywhere.
The food is weird.
The people are weird.
She misses her boyfriend.
She's worried about crime.

So basically, she lasted a day and a night. We (me, Jamie, NYC) broke her.

I've had a few days to process all of this and I'm feeling a little bit better. This despite the fact that I got scathing e-mails from her mother. She yelled at me for not being considerate or accomadating enough. She also yelled at me for pushing my niece too hard about college. The kicker of that particular part of the e-mail is that she spelled it "collage". I shit you not.

Saturday, July 01, 2006

What a week!

So a great big thank you to everyone who came out to Pioneer for my birthday on Monday! There was some pretty wild cornhole action that lasted late into the night. Apparently Balgavy looked into cornhole after the party and discovered that it's huge in the Midwest, Ohio in particular. I'll say! I typed "cornhole" into google and didn't get to anything remotely pornographic until I was 5 pages in. Shocking.


Then on Wednesday I went to The Hook in Red Hook for the 5th Anniversary Party of Tag Team Media. Congratulations Brendan and Julie! It was so much fun! They even provided transportation to and from the train, which was great. Pulled pork with the slaw already on, watermelon, hot dogs and beer. And to top it off, a show by Broken Social Scene! I really enjoyed the show, but every time they pulled out a horn, I felt all misty-eyed for Beulah. Please, oh please, can Miles put out that album already?


And Thursday evening was wiffleball in Fort Greene Park with my co-workers, followed by drinks at Moe's. I am not a wiffleball player. I am not an anything player that involves the humiliating prospect of swinging at a ball. I played the role of back-up catcher/catcher until the rain had me hustling under a tree.


I'm excited that tomorrow MaryLarry are hosting a bbq. The grilled meats and beautiful backyard will make for a perfect Sunday.


Considering how much I hate summer, so far this one is shaping up to be pretty good.

Friday, June 09, 2006

tell me a tale

Hey! It's been ages, I've been computer-less during the days.
I started an internship last week and I'm loving it. If you haven't heard of it, you should check it out: StoryCorps. I'm doing outreach and participating in countless policy meetings. The outreach part is interesting and broad. The policy part is also interesting, but strange. For 15 years, I have had no need sit around a table and critically think, having nitty-gritty "define capacity" discussions. I'm sure part of this is the non-profit world. The closest thing to critical thinking I've had to do in recent years is more along the lines of 'chicken or beef'. Well, that's not really true, but it's certainly not been like this.

Anyway, I encourage/plead with each of you to participate in an interview sometime this summer. I think you'll find it's a lot of fun and really interesting.

In the spirit of telling tales, I thought I'd share the story that my grandmother told of my mother's birth. My mom was born in eastern Kentucky, coal country, in the 1940's. My grandparents lived on the family property of my grandma's family and there was a man named John who lived in a shack on the back of the land. The men used to all spend their free time out in John's shack, playing cards, playing guitars and drinking the whiskey that they all made or bought. The only real exception to the men was my grandma's cousin Roxy. Roxy was a drinker, a smoker, a cusser and a midwife. In December when my grandma was going into labor she sent her youngest brother, Uncle Doc out to the shack to get Grandpa. Grandpa got on his horse and rode out to get Roxy. Apparently the agreement was a bottle of whiskey for delivering the baby. When Roxy got there she wanted the whiskey right away, but Grandma had smartly put the whiskey under the pillows she was laying on. Grandma says she told Roxy "You give me the baby and you'll get the whiskey". So Roxy did and Grandma did and Roxy spent the next few hours out in the shack until the whiskey was gone. God bless those hillbillies. I love my family.

Sunday, April 23, 2006

Skeev Factor is Pretty High

So I had surgery on Thursday and I just removed the bandage covering my belly button. I see virtually no trace of any incision or anything, but I know in my own mind that they went in through my bellybutton and am therefore really skeeved out.

And the surgery went well. I'm just as unhealthy as anticipated, so I don't feel any tremendous surprise or disappointment. Just means that now we have one less thing to deal with before we can possibly have a kid. And hopefully I won't have to have another surgery that boasts "crushing pressure with stabby pain" every time my very funny husband cracks me up during the healing process.

For many reasons I'm sure, conception and fertility are not really "hot" topics among my friends. It's something that's really only talked about with my friends who already have kids or who I know for certain are actively trying. I mean, fertility is something that we all take for granted on some level. I (we) spend many years trying to prevent conception. And I think a lot of women on some level have anxiety that they have screwed up their chances to conceive because of the
A. number of partners prior to currrent partner
B. large amounts of booze/drugs consumed
C. years of birth control taken
D. all of the above

Let me just say, what happens happens. May as well put it out there; doesn't hurt anyway. What I'd like more than anything right at this moment is to see that hilarious Kids In The Hall skit where the 2 rednecks compete over who has the best gut by measuring naval depth. Ah, naval depth.

Sunday, April 16, 2006

Big Love for Big Love

It's official: Last week my excited anticipation for Big Love surpassed that of the Sopranos. If you haven't yet watched this show, go back with your On Demand and catch up. First episode: good, I was intrigued, but not sold. Second episode: Very good, definitely intended to watch the next episode. Third episode: Completely hooked! Each character leaves me wanting more. Bill is compassionate and funny, Nikki is manipulative and awesome, Margene is young and searching. And Harry Dean Stanton is just the best bad guy ever.

Saturday, April 15, 2006

Big Rock Candy Mountain

Last weekend I tried to write up this entry and the computer just flat out died while I was writing (before I had saved). Boo.

I was having a conversation the other day with a friend of mine about rock and roll crushes we had had in our lives. I mean our mothers had Elvis and The Beatles. And our grandmothers had.....who the heck did our grandmothers have? I need to ask my grandma who she had a crush on. I wonder if it's going to be like Hank Williams or something? I doubt it because she doesn't really like scrawny men. Anyway....

Big Rock Crushes:

John Doe of X: Oh boy. My senior year of high school, there was nothing cooler than John Doe and Exene Cervenka. Actually still isn't to me.

Bill Swan of Beulah: I love this picture. Not only is he dreamy as usual, Youthlarge herself is the lovely lass belting something out beside him. And courtesy of YL and Mary Larry I actually got to meet him the night of their last ever show, held at Castle Clinton. Later in a bar I got introduced to him by Mary. It went like this:

Him: Nice to meet you.
Me: Daaar. tee hee.
My Husband: We're going.

Bob Pollard of GBV: I don't know that I have any good explanation for this. Cause I'm from Ohio? I dunno.

Dave Grohl: Maybe someday liking him will peg you as a "woman of a certain age". Unless I'm way off and it already does.

Please God, Don't Let This Be a Mirage

So a while back I found my "dream job" and sent off the most ass-kicking letter and resume of all time. Time came and went that I was supposed to hear from them and nothing. Then I find out that they'd rec'd over a thousand (!) applicants and I was pretty blue. So Wednesday I get an e-mail saying that they've narrowed it down and can I attend a group interview, followed by a mini interview. But of course! Turns out there are actually 16 positions, as they turn over that entire portion of the staff annually. I attended yesterday and I must say, it went very well and I'm more excited than before at the prospect of the job. So out of fear of jinxing it, I'm going to hold my breath and cross my fingers. If nothing else, I feel pretty good that I made it into the first round. I'm supposed to find out by the end of the month.

Wednesday, March 29, 2006

No, separated by ear piercing shrieks

Okay, the morning screed. One of my biggest pet peeves, one that I unfortunately encounter on average 2-4 times/week:

People call and ask for my employer's web site. I say wwwdotthiscompanydotcom. Really, it's that simple. There are 2 easily recognizable words that make up the web site. Nearly half the time the response is "Is that all one word?". I know I'm probably being unfair, but Christ, it is 2006. We all have a fairly firm understanding of web addresses at this point. All one word versus multiple words with random spaces that I'm not telling them about? Dashes and dots that I neglect to mention?

What I need here is a "Snappy Comeback for Stupid Questions". Any suggestions?

Wednesday, March 22, 2006

Seven Days of Mourning

I had never seen the entire series of Freaks and Geeks and having recently experienced it, I can't seem to let go. Listmaker and Youthlarge loaned me the complete series and I have 3 episodes remaining. I actually find myself stalling because I don't want it to end! Apes teases me because he says I go into empathy overload when I watch it. I can't help myself! I feel so strongly for the kids and the parents, I laugh and cry at the same time. I have a particular soft spot for Bill and laugh hysterically during every intro.

My obsession sent me looking for recent pictures of the actors. Yesterday I found these:

Bill Haverchuck and Cindy Sanders
Sam Weir

I feel dirty for thinking how hot John Daley is these days. It's like thinking your friend's little brother is hot. But either way, he's a looker.

What's the last thing you read or watched that you were really sad to have end?

Sunday, March 19, 2006

Reasons Why I Should Probably Find A New Job

1. My paychecks keep bouncing. When direct deposit isn't working (75% of the time), everyone rushes to a check cashing place to cash their checks. Of 100 employees, there's usually enough money for 60-65 to cash their checks. The rest end up with bounced checks.

2. The credit card fraud ring that was just busted up in the warehouse. 3 months after my husband and I had our credit card stolen. Which occured 1 day after having 2 guys from the warehouse help us move a couch. Coincidence? Can't know for sure.

3. The high 6 figure embezzlement of cash and goods that was busted a few weeks ago, ending in the arrest of 5 people.

4. That my boss thinks I'm a vegetarian and openly mocks me in staff meetings because of it. Pointedly put me on the accounts of every steak house in NYC. Honestly, I'm pleased to have more contacts at steak houses, I love a good steak. But the principle of the matter is rather sickening. He thinks he's causing me real hand-wringing and loves it.

5. That my boss unzips his pants before he actually gets in the bathroom, then comes out with a big pee stain on the front of his pants every time he uses the bathroom. This may not be grounds for leaving, but it is disgusting.

6. That he is constantly firing people in the warehouse before they hit 90 days because at 90 days they become protected by the union. This is also why he is moving the entire operation to NJ. The majority of the employees cannot commute to NJ and he will essentially bust the union.

7. They are too stupid to know how to save documents without giving everyone access to them. I pointed something out to them a year ago about this and offered to show them (the 2 owners, my bosses) how to properly save sensitive documents. I was told to mind my own business. The newest addition to this is the spreadsheet I found this week with every employee's name, date of birth, social security number and annual salary. And I was not looking! It was just right there in the shared drive, no protection, not even in a folder. sigh.

8. I am bored to tears. I am a glorified order taker. Minus the glory.

These are not reasons that seem like grounds to quit for some people. It's an idiot's parade in that place and my poor husband has to hear about all the time.

I understand that work is work, but I see no reason why I shouldn't feel strongly about what I do, or even why I do it. It comes down to the cause or the day to day. Am I looking for a specific type of job or am I looking for a purpose? Honestly, I don't think what I do will affect me as much right now as what/who I am doing it for. I know what causes are important to me and I am setting the goal of moving myself closer to them by August 1st.

Wednesday, February 08, 2006

Go West

So next weekend the husband and I are setting out for what we are terming our honeymoon, since we never did anything after we got married. Well, we never did anything that didn't involve either his family or mine.

We'll be flying in to San Francisco then eventually driving our way up the coast with multi-day stops in Southern Oregon, Portland, Seattle and Vancouver. We have friends all along the way that we're really excited to see and spend some time with, so I know the 2 weeks will fly by. I've never been north of Mendocino National Forest in CA, so I can't wait to see the West coast. So, does anyone have a suggestion, a can't miss? I guess the more appropriate question is, does anyone ever look at this anymore, since I haven't written in MONTHS!?

So anyway, if there's anything amazing that we simply must see or do in one of those places, please let us know.....