.on the front seat.

Yesterday,
on the C,
on the way home.

I was just thinking
how
diverse
the car was.

So many different people
and paths
and ideas
and race
and religion
and various forms of body odor.

And I read this today.

And thought,
damn
what a cruel
and wonderful
city we live in.

(and although I do not usually take any line that goes under the Manhattan bridge, other sights above ground still get me excited and happy - no matter how many times I've seen them)

.is handcuffed.

MTA wants your
money!
No matter how.

With
two
fare hikes
coming
(2009 and 2012 - apparently)

and

a $26.2 billion
deficit for the city....

whoa!

.and your baby.

Titled: The Mystery Solved

There's been an occurrence in my life that I could not explain. It was so surreal that I honestly wondered if anyone else had seen it until, thankfully, a co-worker of mine said, yes, she saw it as well.

As I mentioned, I work in Chelsea and everyday on the way to work I have to walk under the High Line (which I wrote about previously - quick refresher: an elevated train track that is now being converted into a park) and numerous disgusting car garages and puke-filled night clubs - aka: it's a little chaotic on that block. One week earlier this year I noticed a dead baby chicken on the ground - looking like it was newly born and the experience was beyond unsettling. It reminded me of the work of Frederick Sommer; who has been described as my photographer father. Anyway, I saw, thought how creepy and sad it was and then thought nothing further of it. However, it happened again the next week and I thought, okay, this is weird and I do not like it and will be walking on the other side of the street. I heard about further encounters from that co-worker and in the last few months I've thought nothing of it - even forgot about it.

BUT! One reappeared Friday afternoon as I walked home. It looked just about to hatch and as if it were sleeping but it was laying there in an egg! Oooooh, now I get it. See, stupider than fuck pigeons have made their home in the beams under the High Line. I've watched them build nests in the tiny strips of metal that give a surface and for some reason - even though this structure is under almost constant construction and vibration - these pigeons continue to lay eggs in these nests. If I had children and three of them had fallen out the window, I would move the crib. Really. I think most animals would - even sheep. But, no, these pigeons continue to perform a cruel form of pigeon population control in Chelsea.

I'm almost upset that now I know. I sort of liked these freakish occurrences that I could not explain. Maybe I'm just upset that the solution is just the typical dumb pigeon joke. I wanted it to be like the frogs in the sky in Magnolia - an event in the movie that isn't entirely explained but holds deeper meaning. Of course, I think the only deep thing I got from the dead baby pigeons was that I'm so glad I've been a vegetarian for 9 years. I also thought of that South Park with Gobbles and taking photos of it.....nevermind.

That mystery is solved for the maybe five people who have seen it and not made the connection. Viola!

This is also fascinating that I came across in my post research but it's a little squeamish but I think it's definitely fascinating.

.said papa got a brand new slack.

aka: Yesterday Morning.
Yesterday was one of those really long days - I was awake for 22 hours; night's just don't end in New York. I woke up at 7:30 (when I usually wake up for work) because I wanted to go to the Met before the Saturday crowds and it was a really lovely day. I ended up walking from West 4th to Union Square so I could transfer and pick up a coffee and bagel from this place I love between those two places - I held onto them so I could just eat it outside the museum or in the park.

The trip there was flawless and the walk to the museum is always great in the summer because the Upper East Side is essentially abandoned and you can just walk all over Park Avenue. The steps of the Met are under construction so I sat down at a shut off fountain (not even the vendors had set up) and as I was sitting down a woman came up to me. She was younger looking, holding papers, obviously wanting me to sign something. Instead of walking away which I'll admit I do most of the time (or yell things like ACLU?! Fuck that, I'm voting McCain!) I just sat and let her sit next to me. She told me about her organization and whatnot, how they collect stories from homeless people and tell them in Union Square. She told me her story about being an alcoholic and getting busted for weed and having her children taken away. She said that she got her stuff together and was helping others and getting small jobs from the museums on Fifth Avenue. Most of the time I take people's stories with a grain of salt (stemming from an experience involving a heroin addict with an imaginary baby and buying $80 worth of baby formula at a Save-A-Lot in Baltimore) but this woman just seemed to want a person to talk to. She didn't really ask me more than twice for a donation and we continued to talk even after I gave her the money I had (oddly my last dollars which made for a hilarious experience in the museum, but again, another time). She spoke about hope and determination and her aspirations about becoming president. I told her she was probably doing much better what she was doing now than being president.

While talking about her daughter whom she hadn't seen in 17 years but recently the daughter contacted/found her sister and wanted to see her it came to my mother and was she okay (her own mother died years ago), I mentioned that she had an accident and I was thinking a lot about it. She asked me why I wasn't there with her and I told her my mother said not to come. She thought I should have gone anyways but told me that I should take a photo of myself smiling and send it to her so she'll know I was thinking about her. And then, this woman I had met a few minutes earlier (even though, it probably ended up being 30-45 minutes she was sitting with me), grabbed my hands and closed her eyes and prayed. I've never been religious and I honestly cannot see myself ever becoming one day but the thing that struck me to holding back tears was that this stranger honestly prayed for someone she didn't know and asked God to look after her. She knew I didn't have any more money and didn't have to stay and talk with me and I didn't have to talk to her but that's how things happen and how they should have happened. It just....struck me, for lack of a better word. She thanked me and hugged me and walked away. I sat there staring at my bagel and coffee, but them away and just went into the museum - really unable to completely concentrate until I took that photo. Which I did and sent it to my mother. And maybe that woman was completely nuts but recently I've been having a little more faith in my fellow man (if not just a better understanding of the differences between them all) but maybe she'll take my advise about her daughter and it'll make the rest of the jackasses who will probably brush her off the rest of the weekend a little bit more tolerable.

And that was my Saturday morning....

.down the backstreet.

For Ma:
Love you.

.someone's riding.

Sorry, I've been MIA (and not like paper planes). I've been completely out of it since Monday. I went home from work Wednesday (poor girl sitting next me probably wondering, oh god, she's going to die) with an insane migraine, almost puking in the back of a cab (and not in a fun drunk way), yelling at the cabbie not to fuck around, taking a bath in complete darkness, almost fainting on the way to work and scaring the girl from Spain who didn't understand most of what I was saying, being unable to really see because why is everything so bright!, and generally being a hermit in my own apartment covered in sheets with the shades drawn. Not even cheese and Red Mango made it better. I'm back to normal, I think......

.to say your prayers.

I just finished a book I borrowed from the library but might go out and buy so I can read it again. Sloane Crosley's I Was Told There'd be Cake is hilarious. It's rumored to have been turned into a television show, so hopefully that won't suck the life out of it. In her story "The Beauty of Strangers" she talks about every day kindness that isn't usually praised (and this is not a sappy story) but I just loved this when I read it:

"And perhaps that's it - perhaps it's a post-post-post-9/11 humanity that's trickled down to everyday courtesies like not stealing other people's wallets. Perhaps it's simply that niceness has always been New York's best-kept sercret, kept quiet to keep the tourists out, like how it really doesn't rain all that much in Seattle"

You should pick it up when you get a chance. Or not. You can just, you know, finish whatever you're reading now. I won't be passive aggressive. You know, just do, whatever.

.but don't forget.

Yes! and Yes!

.till doomsday.

.you can bust your ass.

Our mayor could
buy
God.
London's mayor
is a
drunk.
They should be
BFFs!

I've decided.

What the fuck is that bowtie?!?!

He is such a
boob
sometimes.

.for the boys at Union Square.

You know that Family Guy where Stewie freaks out about Disney World (the closest thing I could find was this), well, yeah, that's the entire city of New York about The Dark Night. Seriously. Not kidding.

(click to make it bigger-aka: legible)

A 4:01am show! 4:01! Dude you finished your day by like 6:45am.

Hey, hey...teehee...you could go see Meet Dave at 4:20. Heh. Heh.

.well time is always money.

Points:
1) Oh boy! I ran! I think Ahmadinejad should go to the Central Park ponds, feed the ducks and lament about life.

2) So, fucking sick of Julia Allison - seriously, it's the Paris Hilton effect. Do nothing, talk about sex, be famous, repeat.

3) I woke up this morning and listened to NPR and the whole Fannie/Freddie thing and how the government is essentially bailing them out - giving them a loan that they can pay back because they trust them. The government doesn't trust anyone and they "trust" Fannie/Freddie. What the fuck? Seriously? They get off that easy? Every day thousands of people are loosing their jobs and the executives who makes all this money just, shrug, you know, whatever. All in good time. No, no, no! One executive could probably sell one of his homes and it could pay for the full retirement of all their employees. This is fucking Enron. Have we learned nothing? We gonna get some over Botox-ed wife crying poor now?

4) And this is great too. Just great. Everything with capitalism and democracy is just great. 226 plus years of no mistakes or nothing. Great. Just great.

PS: Has anyone noticed how major nightly news has just ignored the news that Omar al-Bashir is being seriously, as he should, accused of war crimes in Sudan. This is big news and I'm watching the umpteenth story about gas prices. I get it, they're high and there is nothing new about it since the last time you aired this story yesterday. Thanks for the depressing and meaningless update. Now, let's move onto the rest of the world and other issues other than pitying ourselves. Great, thanks. I'm glad there is hours of coverage about a political cartoon featured on a magazine where the reader get the joke is being cover because idiots don't get it. If you watch Chris Matthews and Fox News you probably don't read the New Yorker and you probably weren't going to vote for Obama anyways.

(flip record to side 3A to continue)

Hilarity yesterday.

I went to Duggal to drop off some film. And David Schwimmer was in their proofing, with whom I'm assuming is the photographer, photos of David Schwimmer.

That's better than the guy on the subway watching YouTube videos of himself.

He doesn't talk like Ross and he's really attractive and I paid too much for fucking contact sheets.

Lordy.

.and the winter wind....

I want these children. I am these children.

.i've got new york.

This signals
the end
of society.
The opulence
of Rome
with the greed of
Wall Street.

Fucking ridiculous.

Get me a Guinness.

.just like I've got no skin.

I'd like to thank my cat, Inky, for only liking wet food made from chicken or tuna. It's great being in the Gristide's check out line with like, 25 cans of cat food and some salad dress. 'Cause that doesn't scream lazy old cat lady. I've become this at 23!

Sitting there right now, looking at me...potting my death.

I'm watching you....

.and though I feel.

I am upset.
Hot guy down the hall,
is the mysterious
stairwell smoker.

Boooo.

Just smoke in your apartment.

.and I've got gin.

I love Kinder chocolate. It seriously is amazing chocolate and the best part is that it's German and Kinder is obviously "children" in German (wait! Wikipedia says it's Italian - but why are the boxes always in German?). Is that like, telling us why it's so yummy (kinder chocolate is PEOPLE!) or who it's targeted to....like renaming the Wall Street Journal Grown Ups. Kinder Suprise Egg has chocolate and a toy! And as a 23 year old, I still find that awesome. But I found these Happy Hippos at Economy Candy and I thought, damn, those look really upsetting. Hey fat kid! Look what the other children can yell at you when you eat these for lunch.

But you should know, these are tasty. I ate them all. I need more and I shall have more.

This is a courtesy post. Go! Buy weird chocolates from Europe! Be freeeeeeee.