Thursday, February 28, 2013

Supers Really Aren't

Any minute now, the super of my building is going to ring the doorbell and find me in full makeup and pajamas, watching My Little Pony, waiting for him to come and fix three separate issues in the less than two hours before I have to leave for work.

I don't blame this super.  All supers (and I've had four so far) seem to be the same:

TIME WINDOWS - The super gives you a vague indication of when he'll stop by.  Like, "in the morning," "on Monday" or "Next week."  Which means one must be ever vigilant and stay out of the super's way.  This means waking up super early to shower and get out of the bathroom in case the super drops by semi-unexpectedly to fix the drip in the bathroom.  Because being in the shower when the super stops by sounds too much like a flimsy setup for an adult movie.  "I need you to look at my plumbing..." - let's not even go there.

LANGUAGE BARRIER - None of the supers I've ever had have ever been able to communicate adequately.  Even the ones who speak perfect English.  I'll call about a problem, say, the hot water in the sink not working, and he'll promise to come by and check it "on a day that ends in Y."  He'll call back and cancel, but you won't understand why.  He'll finally come back and ask you to show him the problem.  After an hour of clanking and clanging, he'll call you in to inspect his work.  He'll show you how he fixed the drip under the sink.  Uhhhh....thanks, but did you check the hot water?  "No, I have to do that some other time."

ANGER ISSUES - Call the super to fix a normal standard apartment issue and he'll act like you're asking him to return the One Ring to Mordor.  It is my understanding that a building superintendent receives some sort of compensation for fixing issues that arise within a building - whether it be through billable hours, a break on housing, or salaried pay.  Which would mean that fixing things is his job.  And I happen to be of the opinion that if you don't like your job, it's better for everyone if you find another job.  Perhaps it's time to give up "fixing things" and "dealing with tenants" to pursue a career in teaching Junior High Mathematics, or lampmaking.  Especially with lampmaking.  I believe lampmakers set their own hours!

....yep.  Aaaaaaaany minute now.

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Do The Right Thing

I think I have a bit of a "Hero Complex."

Last week at work, near closing time, a young teenaged girl approached me with wet eyelashes and red nose, asking if anyone had turned in a white iPhone.  Instead of just telling her "no, none such phone has been turned in," I led her around the store asking other shoppers if they'd seen it, crawling under displays to see if it had fallen behind anything, asking myself, "Why am I doing this?"

Yes, I wanted to return her phone to her.  I wanted to believe that a girl could set her iPhone down for a minute and look back to find it NOT stolen, simply fallen behind a rack of merchandise. But more than that...

I wanted her to look at me with glistening eyes, filled now with delight and wonder instead of sadness and hopelessness, be overcome with gratitude and thank me for finding her lost iPhone.  I wanted my coworkers to mutter among themselves about the improbability of a lost iPhone turning up and how I defied the odds to save the day.  I wanted them to jokingly call me a "hero."

But no joke!  I wanted to be a hero!

So when I accidentally used my friend's train ticket as a perfume tester and disposed of it in the used tester strip bin, I knew I had to go back and right my wrong:

Who does that?  Triumphantly photograph themselves with a Metrocard and train ticket from the trash (which, admittedly, still smelled like sandalwood and cinnamon buns) and announce their victory?  I am a horrible, selfish human being.

I had to right my wrongs.  Selflessly.  The world needs a selfless hero and luckily, an opportunity arose in the most likely of all places:  the 1 train.

Another savvy straphanger noticed a credit card lying on the floor of the train, and asked a nearby passenger if it was his.  No, it wasn't, he replied.  Indeed, none of the passengers on the train claimed ownership of the card.  The doors opened, people got off, people got on, and again, the credit card was pointed out.  "No, it's not mine, is it yours?"  "No, it's not mine."  "It's been there for a while, it doesn't belong to anybody."

But I knew, it belonged to somebody.  Somebody who may not realize it was gone.  Or somebody who already missed it dearly.  In any case, it belonged to somebody...who needed a selfless hero.

I addressed the woman who initially pointed out the card:  "If it doesn't belong to anybody on this train, I'm going to take it to the station manager at the next stop."  I left the train and the station, passing through the turnstiles and up to the booth at 42nd Street:

"Hi, hello, I just found this credit card on the Downtown 1 train and it didn't belong to anybody there.  Can I turn this in to you?"

"Yup," was the unenthusiastic response, and the Booth Man snatched the card through the small slot at the bottom of his glass window.

I paused, expecting accolades and gratitude.

"Okay, thanks, have a nice day," I lobbed through the speaker, then turned to pass back through the turnstiles and continue on my journey.

I'll never know if that card reached its owner.  I'll never know if he missed it, or needed it, or had thrown it away on the floor carelessly because it was worthless and expired  and even if it was valuable to him and he managed to get it back, he'll never know that it was I who sent it on its journey back to him. 

But one Michael P. who banks at Chase was my hero that day, for teaching me a lesson about doing the right thing for the sake of doing the right thing.

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Business in the Front, Potty in the Back

I think it's time for some potty humor, don't you?

So I'm in the Time Warner Building.  I'm in the restroom.  Early morning.  Which I know from experience is where fancy businesspeople come to do their, uh, pre-business business.

This lady walks into the stall next to me an her phone rings.  She answers, in an unexpectedly loud voice:

"HELLO?  I'm in the Time Warner Building.  In the restroom.  Yeah.  What?  Hold on."

Sound of shuffling can be heard next to me.  Then, louder than before:

"HELLO?  I'm in the Time Warner Building.  I'm in the restroom!  Yeah.  WHAT?  Hold on."

She shuffles a bit more, leaves the stall and walks into the sink area of the bathroom.  Once again, we hear, still louder:

"HELLO?  I'm in the Time Warner Building.  In the restroom.  YEAH!  What?!  HOLD ON!"

The sound of the door being pushed open:  she has left the restroom!  From out in the hallway some 30 feet away, we hear her bellowing voice boom:

Now that this crazy lady is out of earshot, all the breathless businessladies in their stalls start to giggle.  Along with me. 
Nothing like a little potty humor in the morning to start off your day.

Monday, February 25, 2013

My Ugly Truth

Beauty = constant perfection (?)

A man at work joked about that "awkward situation" when you wake up next to a girl you've brought home from a club and "her makeup is off and she don't look right."

I was stunned into action.

"I am that girl."

He stopped, and immediately began backpedaling.

"No, you have, like, inner beauty."

"Yeah, really really inner.  Like subcutaneous."  I let the conversation drift back to joking but I felt angry that there's a universal expectation of perfection in women at all times.  Like we should never, EVER allow ourselves to be caught looking anything less than perfect, even when sleeping.  Even when sleeping!  Okay, ladies, as you lay down to rest remember two things:  keep breathing and keep taking men's breath away amirite?

At MoMA, there was a line outside the bathroom.  It moved quickly, because only half the people in line had to use the toilets.  The other half needed to primp in the mirror.  Surrounded by van Goghs and Picassos, we must always remain vigilant lest someone catch us looking less than perfect.

Let's be real.  No, REALLY real.  We don't wake up with perfectly-drawn cat-eyes and upside-down braided Pinterest ponytails.  We - men and women and everyone else - wake up hot messes.  It takes a lot of pretending and a lot of makeup to come even close to perfection.  And beauty demands perfection.  Can we allow ourselves to be imperfect, for really reals?  Can we just allow ourselves to be ... ugly?

And for the record, this is what I look like when I wake up:

Except the frosting is a cup of coffee.


Sunday, February 24, 2013

A Peek At... MoMA

MoMA will blow your mind.  Go on a Friday after 4:00.  It's crowded but free and you will NOT believe the crazyfamous art that you will see like

this one

and this one

and this one

But don't bring your pet cat, because pet cats ruin everything.  Especially furniture.  See?

Museum of Modern Art - MoMA
11 West 53rd Street
(between 5th and 6th Avenues)

Saturday, February 23, 2013

Thursday, February 21, 2013

Facebook: Doin' It Wrong, Part Two

I love Facebook, you love Facebook, we all love Facebook.  But I think we can agree that it can use some improvements.  And no, Zuckerberg, we are not (with all due respect) asking for another news ticker on the right-hand margin.  Thanks, and no.

First of all, if you have a one-woman show/apartment to rent/ lost your phone/birthday party and invite all 501 of your facebook friends to your "event", YOU'RE DOING FACEBOOK WRONG.  If you can take ten minutes to write a snappy description for your event and post pictures of your drunken duckface to the event's photo "album," then you should expend the same amount of time discerning which people to invite to this event.  Your decision process should involve going through your friends list and asking yourself the following questions:

Is this person close to me and likely to want to "attend"?  =  yes, invite them!
Does this person live 800 miles away and we haven't spoken since that one time we met 4 years ago?  =  NO, DO NOT INVITE THEM as they will NEVER, EVER travel 800 miles to spend $15 plus a 2-drink minimum to hear you do a 10-minute comedy set.  Sorry.  But that's reality.

And can we PLEASE.  Stop reposting gross pictures to increase "awareness".*  Hey, how about instead of spoiling my breakfast, just donate money to the cause?  Slacktivism at its worst.  Maybe you have a perverse desire to look at tortured human/animal bodies in your news feed, but I don't.  And until Facebook invents a setting that allows me to opt out of such photos, I cannot change the channel like I do when that Sarah MacLaughlin ASPCA commercial comes on, so I am blocking you.  Maybe instead of proselytizing on Facebook, you could be volunteering at an animal shelter.  Or getting some therapy.  Sheesh.

And WHILE WE'RE ON THE SUBJECT of re-posting photos, can I just say that we all hate Mondays, we all wish cupcakes had fewer calories, and we've all seen grumpy cat!  There is not, to my knowledge, a setting on Facebook that allows me to block from my newsfeed unless I prohibit myself from viewing ANY photos you upload.  And I don't want that to happen.  I like looking at pictures of your food, your pets, your drunken duckface!  This is how we stay in touch in the 21st Century!  But I have seen the same passive-aggressive generic sentiment appear on my homepage time and time again and I have to tell you, there's a special place for that.  A whole seperate website where the whole purpose is to re-post pictures of Grumpy Cat hatin' on Mondays.  And it's not Facebook.  It's PINTEREST.  So unless you have something unique, novel, or original to say, please don't just "share" photos willy-nilly.  That's mindless and boring.  If all of your Facebook friends jumped off a cliff holding a picture of Grumpy Cat, would you do it to?

The answer is yes, but only to raise awareness for animal cruelty.

And when you do, please please please refrain from "inviting" me.

That is all.

* please note, I am not making light of the atrocities in this world, nor the need for us to be made aware of them.  However, as news-watching and internet-savvy adults, we are all aware of the horrors in the world and sometimes use Facebook as escapism.  Certainly there are other forums out there to share your disdain for wrongdoings of society, and I do not condemn anyone for genuinely trying to make the world a better place - merely those who choose the "easy way out" by making others feel bad for not doing something.  Altruists should always be celebrated, and condescension condemned /rant.

Open Letter / Plea to Instagram Users

Hi guys.

I've happily been one of you for over a year now.  In fact, the main reason for finally obtaining an iPhone when I did was so I could join the Instagram craze.  I've been known to say "Instagram that shit!"  And other snappy phrases such as, "I'm gonna Gram this...Instantly!"  My love affair with Instagram is widely known.

But I've always been disturbed by a, shall we say, "trend" on the 'gram. 

I've noticed people taking pictures of their food.

That is not terrible.  Everybody eats (except models), and thus, everybody poops.

Oh dear.  I really hope I didn't just give someone the idea to start Instagramming their poops.

No, a lot of people are Instagramming their meals and hashtagging it..."food porn."

This has always bothered me.  I thought eventually I would get used to seeing a photo of a lovely meal, through a grainy antiqued filter, and stop instantly equating it with oily artificially-enhanced tanned bodies in acrobatic sexual positions faking coitus and oh, the money shot.  Nothing makes me gag like looking at someone's lovingly prepared spread and imagining a mustachioed, coked-up porn star money-shotting on your meal.  I'm sorry, but you invited the comparison.

See, when I think of food porn, this is the sort of thing that comes to mind:

Tampopo is an awesome movie, by the way, but getting "creative" with food is not what I'm expecting to have to imagine while scrolling my Insta-feed.

So to prevent me from imagining you and your bulgogi involved in a loving tryst, let's try a new phrase to describe an awesome meal shot.

Thanks for letting me bend your ears.

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

Winter Block Party

Hey Inconsiderate Neighbor!

Do you LOVE block parties? 
The late hours? 
The screaming? 
The repetitive dance music with thumping base line? 

You must hate the fact that it's winter, and too cold for block parties, huh?

Well, NOT ANYMORE!  Because I have a solution for you!

Instead of standing in the cold street to scream with your neighbors, why not position your stereo to face out an open window?  Crank up the heat, wrap up in an afghan, crack open a 40 and scream at and/or with your neighbors from the comfort of your own living room!

No longer must you shiver on the sidewalks to howl along the only English lyrics to "Gangnam Style".  Now you can misappropriate dated cultural phenomenon from your very own couch/futon!

And for those of you worried about limited romantic prospects at this new style of block party, need I remind you that Romeo wooed Juliet from beneath her balcony?

Why wait for spring and above-freezing temperatures?  Open your window and scream mindlessly across the air shaft TODAY!

based on a true story

Tuesday, February 19, 2013

Seen Around the City

A beautiful example of constructive graffiti.

A sweet plea for companionship

And the reason why GrubHub will always have my business
(besides being cheap, easy, and efficient).

Monday, February 18, 2013

Fighting Illness

Source: via Dina on Pinterest

You know all my bragging about never getting sick?  Well, hubris is a bitch.  Because I got sick.  And when I got sick, I became a self-indulgent baby.

First of all, classic Doctor Who is available on Netflix (see above)!  If Tom Baker can fight the Wirrn with panache and a 22-foot scarf, then I felt I could certainly conquer the sore throat and fever that plagued my own body.

Speaking of fever, there's nothing that quells my fever and soothes my throat like ice cream!  And being the indecisive infant that I am when ill, I couldn't decide between two flavours.  So I brought them both home, sat on the cool floor, and dug into both at the same time.  One Girl, Two Pints.  It was disgusting.

Lastly, I need to make an addendum to this post.  I am superstitious about my feet getting wet.  I firmly believe that wet feet = illness.  Thus, I take Airborne tablets whenever my feet get wet, when someone around me gets sick, and when I feel sick myself.  I have no idea what they contain, if they actually do anything...I don't know why I'm such a dork about it.  But I take it.

Wish me luck, guys.

Sunday, February 17, 2013

Holy Bible, Batman!

*ding dong*

I'm not expecting company...

"[mumble mumble] Diaz?"

a strong, authoritative man's voice on the other side of the door.

Uh oh.  Is someone in trouble?  Someone named "Diaz"?  They have the wrong person!  I don't want anyone knocking my door down!

I do a quick check in the bathroom mirror on my way to answer the door.  Two men in dark jackets through the spyhole.  I open my door.

"Hello, I think you have the wrong address..."  I start just as they state again:

"Buenos dias!"

"Oh!"  So that's what they mumbled through my door!

"Do you speak Spanish?"

"No," I shake my greasy bedhead hair in sympathetic apology.

"Does anyone in the house speak Spanish?"  they ask incredulously, peering past me into my hallway.

"No, it's just me," I lean against the door frame.  Probably shouldn't tell strange men you're home alone in the middle of the day in heart-splattered lounge pants and a Snoopy t-shirt.

"And you speak no Spanish?"  he cannot comprehend my trespass.  He asks again in his lilting accent.

"Enhhh..."  I want to try to reply in Spanish, something clever, but I know by now that it's best to play dumb unless it's an emergency.  I scrunch my face up and gesture with my fingers apart a small distance.  He laughs.

"We are sharing the good news!"  He makes a grand gesture with his right arm and shows me the book in his left hand.  "The Bible!"

I am caught off guard. 

"Oh!  I'm sorry.  Um.  I'm really sorry.  Have a good day, anyway!" 

With both hands, I shut the door slowly on the two gentlemen as their smiles turn to faces of confusion.

You and me, both, guys.

Saturday, February 16, 2013

For the Love of Walking

Ask me what I do and I will tell you I am a tour guide, and I love working at a candy store, and I keep up a blog.

Ask me about my hobbies and I'll tell you:  I walk.

Walking is not just a means of getting somewhere to me.  It's constant action.  Meditation.  And discovery.  The more I walk, the further I want to go.  Until it gets too late or my legs get too tired or the rain can no longer be ignored.  I will walk. 

I'm always happy for company but my favourite walks are when I walk alone.  With no music, no accompaniment. 

Just me and my fondest love, the city. 

I listen close and I can hear her pulse, the thrum of her heart.  The buzz of the neon above, the hum of the subway below.  I can see for miles until the stoplights and streetlights blur into earthbound constellations.  In a moist haze, everything glistens. 

Photos could never do justice to the beauty I've seen while walking.  They can only attempt to serve as reminders of days and evenings spent in quiet communion with my thoughts and my home, taking part in my favourite hobby.

Friday, February 15, 2013


February is such a "blah" month.  The holiday-a-month excitement is now firmly behind us, while weeks and maybe even months of chilly grey skies yawn ahead on the horizon.  Firmly feeling the "blah"s, I took it into my initiative to take a mini "vacation" last Thursday!

Most important in a vacation is that one doesn't give a mind to their messy appearance.

Please note here the messy hair, and the facial expression indicating that I just don't care.

My vacation was by, subway rail:

One also does not pay too much heed to the train they take.  At one of my transfers, I accidentally boarded a Q train when I was meant for an R.  Consider it a slight "layover" in Astoria.

Finally, I arrived at my tropical destination:  the candle aisle at the basement-level Bath & Body Works in the Queens Center Mall:

Leaving my tropical paradise with a few souveniers, I headed into "town" to wander the local streets and got a bit lost.  Actually, the Yelp app on my phone sent me to a place that no longer existed.  So basically, I enjoyed being a tourist.

I did see this awesome block full of "tiny houses," though!

And as a tourist, I was obligated to take a photo of this lovely local monument:

So that was my day of vacation, or day-cation!
Just "imagine" the ones I can have when the weather warms up!

Thursday, February 14, 2013

Not Okay, Cupid. Not Okay.

Seeing as how it is Valentine's Day, most of you are enjoying romantic dates with your cherished significant others.

I, being insignificant, am single.  And as such, I thought I would take this opportunity to regale you with some horror stories from the single side of life.

Source: via Magda on Pinterest

I am of course referring to online dating!  Now, to be clear, I'm not online dating because I'm "on a mission."  I'm not desperate, I'm not lonely, but sometimes, going on dates with strangers can be really fun.

Other times, not so much.

Like the guy I met for lunch (always try to meet for lunch - much less pressure than dinner) who assured me multiple times (protesting too much, mayhaps?) that he did, in fact, have a job.  Congratulations!  He also informed me that women "lose their looks" after 23.  My, my.  He was, of course, made aware that I am an old biddy of 28, and thus well past my "good looks" era.  I paid for my lunch.  He didn't even offer.  Casting even more suspicion on those "job" claims.

Another time, I met up with someone after work to grab a bite.  It was hard to find something to eat, however, because not only was my dining companion an avowed vegan -- which I can support, though I cannot begin to understand -- he confessed a pathological fear for all "round" foods.  Ladies and gentlemen, take a moment here to think of all the foods that are round.  Starting with "peas," bypassing "falafel," and going all the way up to "cantaloupe."  I was so exhausted at the prospect of dealing with someone whose food issues surpassed my own, that I cut the date short after only an hour.  An hour during which I nearly starved to death.

So I figured, maybe next time I should try to get to know someone a bit better before agreeing to meet them for lunch.  Take two, new guy, new date.  He seemed nice enough on the internet - we had similar politics, religious beliefs, and tastes.  I agreed to meet him after several weeks of messaging back and forth and we seemed to jive fairly well until we started discussing our shared passion for recycling.  I mentioned that I loved recycling because of the pride attached to fulfilling my civic duty.  He concurred, adding that he wanted to leave the planet clean for his "future children."  I casually dropped into conversation that I had no desire to ever have children of my own.  "Oh you must!" my date gasped. "It's important for smart people like us to breed and have children to counter-act all the idiots breeding out there!"  Wait.  Talking about "breeding" on a first date?  Hinting at eugenics?  Needless to say, this guy did not merit a second date, based on those two strikes alone.  He did, however, send me a terse missive several days later criticizing my choice of restaurant on our one and ONLY date and wishing me a sarcastic "good luck" on the dating site.  Good luck?  Good luck finding someone as worthy to "breed" superior children with me?  Thanks, I think I'll be fine.

But it did get me thinking.  Maybe the way to meet someone is not online, but in person?  Perhaps not.  My (youthful) looks can be deceiving.  I once gave my phone number to a gentleman I met at work and met him later for coffee, during which the awkward question had to be asked:

"So, just how old are you anyway?  I'm 28."

The colour drained from my date's face.  "I'm 23." 

He tried to pull it together, but even the strongest amount of caffeine couldn't revive a man after that shock.

There were other dates that went downhill fast that don't even merit recounting.  The singles scene in New York has spawned so many television shows and movies that you don't need me to tell you that all the stories are true.  We really don't need to make this stuff up because it just makes itself up.  But no matter how old - or ageist - or bizarre - you are, one thing is for certain when you go on a date with me:

I will beat you at Pop-A-Shot.

Wednesday, February 13, 2013 February

Loving:  The "warmer" weather!  I only wore ONE pair of leggings under my pants today.  And three shirts.  But it smelled like spring!

Music:  Portishead Portishead Portishead.

And this:

Reading:  Warm Bodies by Isaac Marion

Wanting:  Everything at Bath & Body Works in the Aromatherapy Orange Ginger collection.  I got this scrub and am so addicted to the smell that I'm afraid I may be overusing it and will accidentally buff my fingerprints right off.  It's tangy and exotic.

Day Dreamimg:  Warm spring weather and blossoms on the trees...even if they do make me sneeze.

Looking Forward To:  Taking a few small trips out of town to visit family.  It occurred to me that the last time I  saw my dad was a few weeks before my most recent birthday.  IN JULY.  I kinda feel like I'm in a little bit of a rut (a lovely rut, don't get me wrong!) and could use a change of scenery.

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

I WILL Grow Up...And So Should You

Wait.  Hold up.

When I was a kid, I couldn't wait to grow up.  No more bedtimes, no more bullies, no more bullshit.

And then I grew up.
And guess what.

No more bedtimes, no more bullies, no more bullshit.

Being an adult is vastly superior to being a kid.  Granted, please take this with a grain of salt, as I work in a candy store and live in New York City, which is basically Disneyland, for grown-ups.  I spend my days feeding candy to strangers and telling jokes, and in my free time I get to do WHATEVER I WANT.  Stay up late playing Settlers of Catan?  Done.  Order cheese fries delivered to my door?  Three clicks of a mouse.  Build a fort with blankets?  Even easier as an adult than as a child, thanks to adult height, tools, and engineering know-how.  Clip that shit together and let's order some cheese fries for this game of Catan we're about to play in our super bitchin' blanket fort, yo.

To hear people yearn for a simpler time of their youths, I have to wonder if they aren't fully embracing all the opportunities that are currently available to them.  Instead of looking into the past, look to the present and stop worrying about the future.

Monday, February 11, 2013

Thanks for the Consideration, MTA

Apparently, according to the MTA, the biggest problem facing New Yorkers is NOT the rising costs, the decrease in service, the unpredictability of the trains, higher cost and less service.  It's people getting hit by trains.

People.  Getting hit.  By trains.

Something that usually only happens of one's own volition, or due to complete human stupidity.

As a result, we are being bombarded by informative suggestions over the P.A. systems on trains and in stations to "avoid the edge of the platform" and "if you drop something onto the tracks, leave it."  Well, duh.

The second biggest problem?  I know what you're thinking.  People shoving?  Taking up multiple seats by themselves by putting bags on the seats?  Screaming babies going ignored by parents?

If you guessed "holding the doors," then, you would be right.  At least, according to my train conductor this evening:

"Ladies and Gentlemen, this is an important message from the MTA.
It is in violation to hold the doors of the train while the train is in the station.
That means do not put your feet, hands, packages,
children, pets, or grandparents in the doors.
We're trying to get you where you're going three minutes sooner.
Thank you for your attention to this very important matter:
consideration for others."

Maybe, on the subject of consideration for others, we can talk about letting passengers off the train before shoving our way onto the train?

Thanks for the consideration.

Sunday, February 10, 2013

Valentine's Day is Coming Up and That Means...

...Oh don't look at me so coyly.  Even the weekly Target ad had a two-page spread of lingerie.  Roses, candles, chocolates...and on top of that, it's cold outside.  Need to generate heat somehow and hey, here's an idea, turn up this playlist to block out the neighbor's repetitive playing of the same song they've been playing at full blast on repeat since Christmas.

Now, I am known for a couple of things.  And one of those things is making a damn good playlist.  Several friends (hello, friends!) have even asked me (some on multiple occassions) to guide them in making a good playlist to get it on to.  It's a gift.  Try it out tonight - but don't blame me if you're late to work on Monday morning!

Saturday, February 9, 2013

For the Love of Eyeliner

...and I usually wear even more than this on a daily basis.

So, clearly, I love eyeliner.  And lately, perhaps too much!  I've been double-lining my eyes - two colours at once!  Sure, the compliments I get are nice, and I would never reveal that secret for profit (or would I?) and each of my eyeliners is super special and important in its own way.  I would never dream of leaving the house without eyeliner...mainly because when I do, people assume that I'm sick.  It's true.  The last few times I've tried, I've been asked if I'm feeling well.  Harumph. 

But ever since my cousin tipped me off to this brand, you can't get me to part with it.  Literally.  I keep the tiny stubs of my two favourite colours in my purse with me at all times, in case of an emergency.  Like a massive tidal wave striking the island of Manhattan, sweeping me underwater and washing off my eyeliner.  Y'know, it could happen.  But I would be prepared.

So while you may catch me out and about virtually sans fards, you will never see me without eyeliner.  That's where "eye" draw the line.

Friday, February 8, 2013

My First Kiss

Since it's February, blah blah blah Valentine's Day, blah blah blah getting mushy all over the blogiverse, I thought it was only appropriate to share this memory during this month

The year is 2002.  I am a flat-chested, acne-ridden, brace-faced senior in high school.  So basically, not much has changed in 11 years, except the braces have since been removed.

And I am currently deeply involved in both the band and theatre circles of my high school, which means there are not many boys in my life.  Well, not many STRAIGHT ones, anyway.  So, being in the flute section, I decide that I must use my theatre connections to snag a man.  And being my senior year of high school, I decide it's now or never, in that fatalistic way we all view our final year of mandatory schooling.

It's spring, so the clock is ticking.  I am paired to perform a scene with a member of the opposite sex.  We are rehearsing after school in a hallway when I decide it's Go Time.

Seizing upon the opportunity, I laughingly suggest, "wouldn't it be HILARIOUS if this scene ended with a kiss?  LET'S REHEARSE A KISS."

Of course, it was inconsequential to the scene, but I felt a twinge of pride having finally, at the age of seventeen, kissed a boy.  A boy, that is, who was not also my dog.

And I have been using cunning acts of trickery to kiss boys ever since.

Thursday, February 7, 2013

Coffee Talk #21

1. What's for dinner tonight?

The typical dinner is a salad of iceberg lettuce and cubed tofu, with Italian dressing.  Fascinating, I'm sure!  If I'm eating out, there's no telling!

2. Top 3 TV shows you never miss.

I'm afraid I've fallen quite a bit behind on TV, but when I get the chance, I can't wait to catch up on Girls, Downton Abbey, and the newest season of RuPaul's Drag Race!

3. What type of body wash are you currently using?

I actually bought a bar of glycerin soap that smells like tart green apples at a Duane Reade in Stuyvesant Town while stalling for time after arriving too early to an engagement.  It reminds me of being an adolescent, all my citrus-y glycerin soaps, and the ones they used to sell at Tom's Cards and Gifts - home of the world's most wonderful coffee!

4. Take a photo of what's in front of you.

Oh yeah, baby.  I'm watching Doctor Who!

5. What's your favorite fruit?

I've been eating a terrible lot of clementines lately.  Sometimes three a night!  Maybe I'm getting too much Vitamin C? 

6. Spring is almost here, show me your go-to outfit!

Yes, it may not look like much, but I am So Sick of wearing layer upon layer this winter just to stay warm that I cannot wait to walk out the door in a T-shirt and Jeans.  Please excuse the awkward pose, there are two vacuum cleaners behind me in the photo and I used a self-timer.  The jeans are almost brand new, and the T-shirt celebrates my newfound love of robots, it's my new favourite shirt and I bought it at Forbidden Planet, which makes me So Cool.

Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Little (Electronic) Letters

I don't know about you, but email kind of confounds me.  I have no problem walking up to a complete stranger, with a wave and a smile, and being my fumbling, charming self.  But email doesn't let you do that!  You have to convey so much with so little, it's instantaneous, and too easy.  It's always with you, so procrastinating on writing an email just reminds you of your anxiety constantly.  And once you finally DO send that electronic missive, you check obsessively for a response, because you know the recipient is constantly carrying around their email device too, so why are they not responding to you, oh no, why am I so awkward kjfdksjkdf !!!!!

So I thought, in the interest of practice, I would try out some emails here before I send them to make sure I'm not doing it all wrong:

Dear Fellow Blogger:

You don't know me, but I feel like I know you because I just spend two hours reading back through the archives of your blogs.  I liked your haircut from last February, by the way.  I think we would hit it off and you'd really like me if you got the chance to know me so I don't see why we shouldn't swap blog ads?  You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours, though of course we wouldn't be actually scratching backs, because that would be weird, because I just met you through the internet, and not even that, really, I just left a ton of comments on really old entries so of course you already know I've been creeping your archives for hours.

Attached:  please read my blog!

Hope to hear back from you!


Dear Tattoo Artist:

The most any of us can hope to grasp of "forever" is our own lifetime.  Tattoos last a lifetime.  Therefore, I have chosen you to make a bodily commitment with me that will last a lifetime...


Dear Scheduling Supervisor,

Please don't schedule me to work on Sunday because I have other commitments I have very important personal business I want to take a vacation.

Is that cool?


Employee of the Month, November 2012, so maybe I could get that vacation?

A Peek At... The Corner Bistro

The Corner Bistro is a bit famous.  It's referenced on the TV show How I Met Your Mother, in the episode "The Best Burger in New York" as the suggested place to find the best burger.  Is it?  Decide for yourself!

The menu is small, the back room is dark, but the food is cheap.  And by "cheap," I mean "well worth the money!" 

The Corner Bistro
331 West 4th Street

Tuesday, February 5, 2013

For the Love of Chocolate

The love of chocolate is not uncommon, but I think I get extra points for taking it to an extreme level.  Love of chocolate practically got me my job, after all!  And my passion is alive and well and taking over my cupboards. 

I can't tell you enough how much I freaking love chocolate.  Can you get past the fudgy, greasy, flaky-on-the-outside perfect brownie?

From The Fat Witch in Chelsea Market!

How about this insanity - a chocolate-covered chocolate chip cookie!  The outer perimeter is crunchy, the inside is chewy and soft and it's all covered in chocolate!

Why cover jelly beans in chocolate?  WHY NOT?  I ask you!

Why, chocolate continues to amaze me every day.  Chocolate mochi!  Is there anything that chocolate can't do?

Monday, February 4, 2013

Unofficial New Year's Resolutions

Late to the party?    I don't like making New Year's Resolutions because they're so hard to keep!  And I especially don't like telling people about them because then I'm held accountable.  Still, I have had a few New Year's Resolutions in the back of my mind for the past month and thought to share them.  I could use a little accountability.  An accountabilibuddy, if you will.  Be my accountabilibuddies?

Write More   
I wanted to be more prolific on my blog and with other projects and so far, so good.  I am trying to blog every day, and the more I do it, the easier it is!  I'm having more ideas and thinking more creatively on the whole.  It reminds me of my college class where we were required to keep a journal and write three times a week.  I wrote every day, pages and pages, and it was so amazing how easy it was!  I've always loved to write, but writing more makes me love it more and I feel very proud!

Stop Eating Standing Up
    Since I'm in a hurry most of the time, many of my meals are gobbled up while fixing lunch for work, making coffee, or putting on multiple layers of clothing.  I feel like this is bad.  I feel like eating standing up is not good for me?  Maybe this is psychosomatic.  But I'd much rather sit at a table or, at the very least, on the couch to enjoy my meals before I have to be on my feet all day.  And yet, I am failing miserably at making the time to sit down and eat.  Help me, accountabilibuddies!  Do you eat standing up all the time?  I can't be the only harried fool who rushes around to get ready in the morning and ends up burping up breakfast all day as a result! 

Stop Wearing Boring Underwear   
It's overshare o'clock!  But yes.  My underwear is (usually) very boring.  I look at my roommate's pretty things and feel pangs of envy.  Even if I'm the only one appreciating it, I feel happier when I'm all fancy underpants-y.  To aid in this goal, I buy pretty things when they're on sale and try to incorporate them into my wardrobe.  Sure, it's not always practical to wear lace-trimmed mesh boyshorts on a nine-hour shift.  But I'm working towards the goal, slowly but surely!

What are/were your New Year's Resolutions?  How have you been at keeping them so far?

Sunday, February 3, 2013

Sunday Social

1. If you were stuck on an island what are the two material items you would want to have?

My iPhone and a pillow.  Duh.

2. What are two TV shows you’d watch over and over?

Get ready for the geekiness:  Battlestar Galactica and Doctor Who.  I'd also re-watch random snippets of Kids in the Hall, The Mighty Boosh, That Mitchell and Webb Look...

3. If your house was on fire what two things aside from family, pets, etc would you grab?

My antique Subway map and this framed card I got from my mom years ago:

I mean, assuming I've already grabbed my iPhone and a pillow.

4. What are your two most favorite articles of clothing?

My denim vest with the spikes and my blue fleece penguin pants!

5. What two movies that you saw in the past year would you recommend to us?

Somewhere in the City - it's a bit weird, but as soon as it finished, I watched it all over again. 

And Rid of Me, which is dark and gritty!  If you are currently, or have recently, or plan on soon going through a breakup, this movie is a must-see!

6. What are your two biggest guilty pleasures?

My pleasures are guilt-free, thank you.  I suppose the amount of coffee I drink is a bit of a shame.  And my Pinterest addiction is a bit out of control.  So there you have it.

Sunday Social

Saturday, February 2, 2013

For the Love of Daleks

February is the month of love.  What better way to spread love than to showcase some of the things I love?  And what better "thing I love" to start with than something that has no emotion...


In case you can't tell, I love me some Daleks.  What?  Why?  I love their tinny, screeching voices.  I love their undercooked, sunny-side up one-eyed faces.  I love their sausage-penis tentacles.

Source: via Joshua on Pinterest

Honestly, what's not to love?  They should be the most feared things in the galaxy.  But they're so cartoonish and goofy.  Like giant awkward Roombas with panda ears and Tyrannosaurus Rex arms and a big flashlight for an eye. 


And it's not just me who thinks so.  Dalek love is alive and well on Pinterest!

If the sound of a robot voice being raked across a cheese grater gets your hear beating faster, you might have Dalek love too. 

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