(i'm so happy i cried)

Obama: FUCK YEAH!!!!

.whizzin' on down.

The person who thought of the Queens
house numbering system,
is the same person who thought of the
B&H Photo system.

Neither makes much sense.

.there on the block.

Filed under:
things I do not understand.

WYNC was having a
one day
pledge drive
on Tuesday.

A foundation promised
to double (or something like that)
every dollar people donated.
Now,
why doesn't the foundation
(with it's probably
super rich
trustees)
just give twice as much?
Why ask average people
(although, yeah, the WNYC listener is
probably
a little better off than
most people)
to donate,
especially during a recession
when you damn well have the money in the
first place?

I do no understand this.
Please explain why
I
a listener
has to give money I don't have.


......I'm waiting.

.to that drag bar.

POLITICO:
(1)
Oh boy!
Oh boy!
I hope John McCain picks Tom Ridge
for his running mate.

Total disaster.

He's going for the PA vote,
but people in PA hate Ridge now.
He suggested suffocating ourselves in our
own homes
to protect us from terror.
And he's rainbow-tastic!

Genius!

(2)
"I could be your human lollipop"
He could,
just
look
at
him.

.out of the cinema fourteen.

I went for an amazing walk on Saturday morning.
Here it is with points and stories.

.well you spill.

This is my face today:


I could hypnotize people the freakish deformities on my face. Fuck!
I case you have no idea about the image above, watch here.

.down down downtown.

My comments regarding an article in New York magazine interviewing two people who live in the same area that I do:
(click to enlarge)

A. "Whole Paycheck" *slaps knees* OMG! That is like, totally funny! You should do stand up!

Actually, for the brands they carry, Whole Foods offers the best price than other places. So, you know.

B. Stop 1 Deli - yeah, you can get booze for cheap, if you're wearing a low-cut top, skirt and are willing to be leered at beyond any amount that a human should be subjected to. I sorta look young and I can just say, Yeah! I'm 23! and it works. Good thing I actually am.

C. This place offers organic, healthy or some fucking shit like that Chinese food. I don't doubt it's good but seriously, if you want Chinese food why would you pay 40 times as much for non-greasy food? That's the best part of Chinese food - it's bad for you and sooooo good. Go to Six Happy Kitchen down the block for a million dumplings for like 5 bucks.

D. Flowers Cafe is a "cute" place with nice people but the food is mediocre and I keep thinking it won't be but it always is.

E. Valley actually is pretty sweet. The clothes are overpriced and the shop girls are little annoying but nails and wax are fab!

F. Again, that's very true. It's not really a park but rather a street with some swings and a library.

G. Fuck that hipster store. No one is ever in there. Why did they decide to open here?

H. All those galleries in the area suck balls with crap art. And exactly the point she brought up is why: they took up the space where Flickers was - again, annoying hipsters worked there but it was some seriously awesome fresh coffee.

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

1. I had no idea, honestly, that Fine Far accepted cash and not just food stamps. I've never seen edible fruit or vegetable in there but god damn! they have 15 different types of Oreos!

2. This is worst than the Rite-Aid on McMechen Street in Baltimore and that's saying a lot.

3. Agreed. But it is the most unsettlingly clean deli on Delancey.

4. I might get shot by a gang of native New Yorkers but I do not think Kossar's Bialys is that great. It's better than grocery store bagels but I still like Bob's Bagel on University.

.we’re all going.

Chinese mafia? Whaaaat? No, I'm kidding. They run all of Chinatown. Really. Every Chinatown bus too.

.c'mon honey.

Today, about
70%
of the time I passed
members of the opposite sex
I've been harassed.

Seriously, stop it.

I'm wearing baggy jeans
and a vest;
I look like a little boy.

I heard a story today
on NPR
about domestic abuse workshops
and trying to help men understand
and respect
for women.
At the program the woman said
(to a group of mostly black and Hispanic men),
"When a police officer says
Good Morning
to you, do you honestly think he wants to
know
if you're having a good morning?"

It's abusive.
I refuse to feel unsafe
in open, public areas.

In conclusion:
FUCK OFF!

(image from here)

.boy and you relax.

I walked from
work
to the Broadway/Lafayette
subway station
yesterday.

There was a huge crowd
around
W. Houston & Wooster
with some
occasional screaming.

I groaned,
NYU must be having
an orientation
or something.

No, I was wrong.

There were hundreds
of small girls
with
Mrs. Jonas
t-shirts
apparently waiting
for the three
like
totally
super
cute
Jonas Brothers to appear.

I had no idea these
three
existed
until, eh, maybe two months ago.

Seriously, at one point
I think
I was thrown in the line.

Again, seriously, WTF?
And I couldn't bring
myself
to post a photo of them
on this blog.

(But I think if I was in high school right now I would have secret crush on Nick and pretend like I didn't)

.sit right there.

QUESTIONS ANSWERED and OTHER THOUGHTS:
1. No, although I live in New York I do not know what the Montauk Monster is. I have no theories. It's not like a New York secret that we're keeping from the rest of the world. I really have stopped caring after ralphing my lunch after seeing it. Whatever it is, we're all looking at a gross dead animal carcass.

2. Please stop asking me if I adopted Princess Chunk/Powder. Along with the Montauk Monster, I am so over this. My attention span has shortened at a massive rate. Why? Because everything in New York is blown out of proportion and over exposed to the point of nausea.

3. I was in Queens yesterday. The social, hipster scale now stands at first Queens is massively cool and hipstery, then Manhattan because it's so cool it got uncool and is now, you know, whatever (my living there actually garnered the response: Oh that's cool. What?!? Like, no one lives there anymore and it is now awesomel) and then Brooklyn, because it is so over. Staten Island and the Bronx have yet to be properly territorialized with boutiques and Thai restaurants. What is it with hipsters and Thai food? I don't get it. I have yet to have a Thai meal in New York better than mediocre.

4. Why is it that like, every week there's a new rating system for the subway? People love complaining about how their line is worst. How it's the dirtiest, slowest, smelliest, etc. I'm over it. I've been in the city only a little more than a year and I'm used to it. Sometimes a car is air conditioned, sometimes it isn't. I like joking and complaining about little misadventures, but seriously, I'm on the fucking train for an hour of my life every god damn day of the week. It's gonna suck. Get over it.

5. At least it's not this.

6. Does the New York Times think I'm that stupid or is the Con Ed bill just that hard to read? I pick the former.

7. To the fat guy, shoving donuts in his mouth while at the same time searching through his crap for his Metrocard this morning: You do not have the right to be blobbily standing there, shoving donuts in your mouth at the turnstile and yell "Hold it! Hold the train!". No. You do not get that right.

8. Escalators. Keep walking when they end. This has happened to me for the past week. I do not understand. Escalators were invented 149 years ago and are probably in every country in this world. It's not a hard concept. It's the opposite of a hard concept. Like moving sidewalks at the airport. Very, very, very easy to understand.

9. Coffee machine is back at work. Rejoice.

10. This is actually funny.

11. And I haven't watched the national news in over a week and I think I'm in a better state of mind for it.

12. Easy as pie....

.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.