8/30/07
8/29/07
8/27/07
Did you see The Girls Next Door last night?
The Girls and Hef go to Renfaire. Turns out Bridget is a Renfaire devotee.
Hip Hip Huzzah!
Verily I doth add this link.
Hip Hip Huzzah!
Verily I doth add this link.
8/26/07
8/24/07
Love: A Useless Manual
There are people you love because you were borne to them, borne of them, familial. There are people you love because of familiarity, longevity. There are people you love because you care, you want to take care of them, they take care of you. There are people you love because they make you feel wonderful, happy, and full of laughter, for a moment, for a lifetime.
Then there are people you just love, completely.
I don't know how important the distinctions are. I just know them, all.
Then there are people you just love, completely.
I don't know how important the distinctions are. I just know them, all.
8/21/07
8/19/07
The Hills: 2027
This is what I do rather than clean my bedroom. Sorry!
Lauren: Wears a lot of cardigans and skinny leggings. Manages a high-end art supply store in Century City specializes in expensive handmade recycled-paper goods. When happy couples come in to browse the wedding invitations, she mutters and scribbles furiously into a recycled-paper journal. Possesses deep eye wrinkles from squinting in contempt at happy and/or successful people. Constantly reapplies muted peach lipstick. Eyebrows still incongruously dark.
Spencer: Engaged to third wife Apple Paltrow-Martin following messy splits from Heidi and Rumer Willis. Successful producer of preteen slasher films. Hair-plug technology has improved in the past twenty years, fortunately.
Brody: Avoiding extradition in Switzerland. Operates a pro shop in a ski lodge. Gained thirty pounds on dark chocolate.
Heidi: In minimum-security prison for attempting to murder Lauren by setting fire to her fluffy white sectional sofa. We learn that her natural hair color is in fact platinum blonde. Writing a tell-all book.
Whitney: Editor of Vogue. Married Ashley Olson in a million-dollar fall ceremony in the Napa Valley. Gorgeous, simply gorgeous.
Audrina: Moved to New York. Never heard from again.
Lauren: Wears a lot of cardigans and skinny leggings. Manages a high-end art supply store in Century City specializes in expensive handmade recycled-paper goods. When happy couples come in to browse the wedding invitations, she mutters and scribbles furiously into a recycled-paper journal. Possesses deep eye wrinkles from squinting in contempt at happy and/or successful people. Constantly reapplies muted peach lipstick. Eyebrows still incongruously dark.
Spencer: Engaged to third wife Apple Paltrow-Martin following messy splits from Heidi and Rumer Willis. Successful producer of preteen slasher films. Hair-plug technology has improved in the past twenty years, fortunately.
Brody: Avoiding extradition in Switzerland. Operates a pro shop in a ski lodge. Gained thirty pounds on dark chocolate.
Heidi: In minimum-security prison for attempting to murder Lauren by setting fire to her fluffy white sectional sofa. We learn that her natural hair color is in fact platinum blonde. Writing a tell-all book.
Whitney: Editor of Vogue. Married Ashley Olson in a million-dollar fall ceremony in the Napa Valley. Gorgeous, simply gorgeous.
Audrina: Moved to New York. Never heard from again.
8/12/07
Semisolid food, from back in the day
Anyone remember the Bisquick Impossible Pies?
http://www.recipegoldmine.com/pieimp/pieimp.html has a ton of them.
The awesomest one in my opinion is Zucchini Tomato Pie, great for using up garden excesses.
This was yummy and easy.
My brother claims no recollection of said Pie.
Fool.
I plan to make one soon and watch the no crust magic happen! You should too! It's a hallmark of suburban garden summer.
Serve one at your next barbeque!
8/11/07
Bleagh....and wtf?
Yeah a copout title if there was any...but my stomach is basically inside-out and it's tough to concentrate.
I meant to report something bizarre that happened in therapy aka shrinkage Monday. I was talking about things (as I am wont to do when paying for someone's attention and mad therapeutic skillz) and when things got too serious, I found myself slowly passing out. For real. My eyes started fluttering, I slid down on the fairly-comfy armless sofa (chaise? shrink sled? Whatever), my back against the seat of the sofa and my legs on the floor, finally pulling my legs up in hazy defeat as my eyes slammed shut. I drifted in and out of 'sleep' mumbling occasional answers to my therapist's questions and muttering "Am I dying?" from time to time (since I was convinced that this wasn't just stress but actual death). When I arose from the sofa I was disoriented and frightened. She said I'd shake it off, and was unsurprised and unstressed about it (unlike me).
Then I went and had a couple of drinks and saw a show.
Weird.
Here's an actual poo contest. Enjoy!
I meant to report something bizarre that happened in therapy aka shrinkage Monday. I was talking about things (as I am wont to do when paying for someone's attention and mad therapeutic skillz) and when things got too serious, I found myself slowly passing out. For real. My eyes started fluttering, I slid down on the fairly-comfy armless sofa (chaise? shrink sled? Whatever), my back against the seat of the sofa and my legs on the floor, finally pulling my legs up in hazy defeat as my eyes slammed shut. I drifted in and out of 'sleep' mumbling occasional answers to my therapist's questions and muttering "Am I dying?" from time to time (since I was convinced that this wasn't just stress but actual death). When I arose from the sofa I was disoriented and frightened. She said I'd shake it off, and was unsurprised and unstressed about it (unlike me).
Then I went and had a couple of drinks and saw a show.
Weird.
Here's an actual poo contest. Enjoy!
Hello? Hello?
Does anybody read this anymore?
On an unrelated note, may be a bad time to skip the antidepressants.
Here's a picture of a tapir:
On an unrelated note, may be a bad time to skip the antidepressants.
Here's a picture of a tapir:
8/9/07
Ain't no cure for the summertime ewwwws
Spotted on the walk to work this morning:
1. A woman in a smart tailored suit open at the next showing off an intricate array of subclavicular tattoos. (I'd like to think she was an attorney and it was the Bill of Rights or the 1934 Securities and Exchange Act.)
2. A shortish man in a neat grey suit, his briefcase and duffel bag on the ground next to him, shaking off and zipping up after peeing on a deli.
3. A woman in bright red surgical scrubs smoking extra-long cigarettes.
4. A woman in a black strapless cocktail dress, stiletto heels and a battered bouquest of flowers. Must've been a great night! She got flowers!
5. My purse strap creeping repeatedly across my right nipple for four crosstown blocks before I realized there were projection issues.
1. A woman in a smart tailored suit open at the next showing off an intricate array of subclavicular tattoos. (I'd like to think she was an attorney and it was the Bill of Rights or the 1934 Securities and Exchange Act.)
2. A shortish man in a neat grey suit, his briefcase and duffel bag on the ground next to him, shaking off and zipping up after peeing on a deli.
3. A woman in bright red surgical scrubs smoking extra-long cigarettes.
4. A woman in a black strapless cocktail dress, stiletto heels and a battered bouquest of flowers. Must've been a great night! She got flowers!
5. My purse strap creeping repeatedly across my right nipple for four crosstown blocks before I realized there were projection issues.
8/3/07
I can't help it, I love Google Ads
I know they are creepy and targeted, but kind of loosely (which amuses me greatly). I know I am propagating their gently invasive advertising model by discussing it here (and reprinting links). But damn, they make me laugh a little.
Today's favorites:
The Palmpillow (which itself, has Google ads for other smallish travel pillows because it's free targeted advertising, thus effectively cannibalizing itself)
Modern Mountain Man's Big Agnes dual sleeping bag (both the website name and product line name amused me)
Dress Modest (for those who shun low necklines and muffin tops for G-d)
The Internets iz Fun!
Today's favorites:
The Palmpillow (which itself, has Google ads for other smallish travel pillows because it's free targeted advertising, thus effectively cannibalizing itself)
Modern Mountain Man's Big Agnes dual sleeping bag (both the website name and product line name amused me)
Dress Modest (for those who shun low necklines and muffin tops for G-d)
The Internets iz Fun!
8/2/07
It was lovely.
From the draft script of "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind:"
JOEL
You were down by the surf. I could just
make you out in the dark.
Joel looks down to the water. There's Clementine, in her
orange hooded sweatshirt, looking out to sea.
JOEL (CONT'D)
Your back to me. In that orange
sweatshirt I would come to know so well
and even hate eventually. At the time I
thought, how cool, an orange sweatshirt.
VOICE-OVER
I remember being drawn to you even then.
I thought, I love this woman because
she's alone down there looking out at the
black ocean.
JOEL (CONT'D)
But I went back to my food. The next
thing I remember, I felt someone sitting
next to me and I saw the orange sleeve
out of the corner of my eye.
A shot of the orange sleeve. Joel looks up.
CLEMENTINE
Hi there.
JOEL
Hi.
VOICE-OVER
I was so nervous. What were you doing
there, I wondered. Your hair was lime
green. Green revolution.
A shot of her green hair.
JOEL
You said...
CLEMENTINE
I saw you sitting over here. By
yourself. I thought, thank God, someone
normal, who doesn't know how interact at
these things either.
JOEL
Yeah. I don't ever know what to say.
CLEMENTINE
I can't tell you how happy I am to hear
that. I mean, I don't mean I'm happy
you're uncomfortable, but, yknow... I'm
such a loser. Every time I come to a
party I tell myself I'm going to be
different and it's always exactly the
same and then I hate myself after for
being such a clod.
JOEL
Even then I didn't believe you entirely.
I thought how could you be talking to me
if you couldn't talk to people?
VOICE-OVER
But I thought, I don't know, I thought it
was cool that you were sensitive enough
to know what I was feeling and that you
were attracted to it.
CLEMENTINE
But, I don't know, maybe we're the normal
ones, y'know? I mean, what kind of
people do well at this stuff?
VOICE-OVER
And I just liked you so much.
CLEMENTINE (CONT'D)
You did? You liked me?
JOEL
You know what I did.
CLEMENTINE
Yeah, I know. I'm fishing.
JOEL
You said --
She picks a drumstick off of Joel's plate.
CLEMENTINE
I'm Clementine. Can I borrow a piece of
your chicken?
JOEL
And you picked it out of my plate before
I could answer and it felt so intimate
like we were already lovers.
JOEL (CONT'D)
I remember --
VOICE-OVER
The grease on your chin in the bonfire
light.
Shot of a smudge of chicken grease on Clementine's chin.
CLEMENTINE
Oh God, how horrid.
JOEL
I'm Joel.
VOICE-OVER
No, it was lovely.
CLEMENTINE (CONT'D)
Hi, Joel. So no jokes about my name?
JOEL
You mean, like...
(singing)
Oh, my darlin', oh, my darlin', oh, my
darlin', Clementine... ? Huckleberry
Hound? That sort of thing?
CLEMENTINE
Yeah, like that.
JOEL
Nope. No jokes. My favorite thing when
I was a kid was my Huckleberry Hound
doll. I think your name is magic.
She smiles.
JOEL
You were down by the surf. I could just
make you out in the dark.
Joel looks down to the water. There's Clementine, in her
orange hooded sweatshirt, looking out to sea.
JOEL (CONT'D)
Your back to me. In that orange
sweatshirt I would come to know so well
and even hate eventually. At the time I
thought, how cool, an orange sweatshirt.
VOICE-OVER
I remember being drawn to you even then.
I thought, I love this woman because
she's alone down there looking out at the
black ocean.
JOEL (CONT'D)
But I went back to my food. The next
thing I remember, I felt someone sitting
next to me and I saw the orange sleeve
out of the corner of my eye.
A shot of the orange sleeve. Joel looks up.
CLEMENTINE
Hi there.
JOEL
Hi.
VOICE-OVER
I was so nervous. What were you doing
there, I wondered. Your hair was lime
green. Green revolution.
A shot of her green hair.
JOEL
You said...
CLEMENTINE
I saw you sitting over here. By
yourself. I thought, thank God, someone
normal, who doesn't know how interact at
these things either.
JOEL
Yeah. I don't ever know what to say.
CLEMENTINE
I can't tell you how happy I am to hear
that. I mean, I don't mean I'm happy
you're uncomfortable, but, yknow... I'm
such a loser. Every time I come to a
party I tell myself I'm going to be
different and it's always exactly the
same and then I hate myself after for
being such a clod.
JOEL
Even then I didn't believe you entirely.
I thought how could you be talking to me
if you couldn't talk to people?
VOICE-OVER
But I thought, I don't know, I thought it
was cool that you were sensitive enough
to know what I was feeling and that you
were attracted to it.
CLEMENTINE
But, I don't know, maybe we're the normal
ones, y'know? I mean, what kind of
people do well at this stuff?
VOICE-OVER
And I just liked you so much.
CLEMENTINE (CONT'D)
You did? You liked me?
JOEL
You know what I did.
CLEMENTINE
Yeah, I know. I'm fishing.
JOEL
You said --
She picks a drumstick off of Joel's plate.
CLEMENTINE
I'm Clementine. Can I borrow a piece of
your chicken?
JOEL
And you picked it out of my plate before
I could answer and it felt so intimate
like we were already lovers.
JOEL (CONT'D)
I remember --
VOICE-OVER
The grease on your chin in the bonfire
light.
Shot of a smudge of chicken grease on Clementine's chin.
CLEMENTINE
Oh God, how horrid.
JOEL
I'm Joel.
VOICE-OVER
No, it was lovely.
CLEMENTINE (CONT'D)
Hi, Joel. So no jokes about my name?
JOEL
You mean, like...
(singing)
Oh, my darlin', oh, my darlin', oh, my
darlin', Clementine... ? Huckleberry
Hound? That sort of thing?
CLEMENTINE
Yeah, like that.
JOEL
Nope. No jokes. My favorite thing when
I was a kid was my Huckleberry Hound
doll. I think your name is magic.
She smiles.
8/1/07
Weird things that freak me out
1. People cracking knuckles or other joints.
2. Images of heads without faces.
3. Popping balloons.
4. The idea of creatures inside walls.
5. Crossing a large bridge on foot.
I'm sure there are more.
And if anyone wants to walk the Brooklyn Bridge with me, please drop me a line.
2. Images of heads without faces.
3. Popping balloons.
4. The idea of creatures inside walls.
5. Crossing a large bridge on foot.
I'm sure there are more.
And if anyone wants to walk the Brooklyn Bridge with me, please drop me a line.
7/26/07
That's what I do
from actual patents.
"bugle headed screw dog"
"flesh correction circuitry for color television"
"bugle headed screw dog"
"flesh correction circuitry for color television"
7/25/07
7/20/07
What little girl didn't want earmuff hair?
...or a dashing anti-hero with shaggy hair?
Leia: "I love you."
Solo: "I know."
One of my all time favorite quotes.
Leia: "I love you."
Solo: "I know."
One of my all time favorite quotes.
7/16/07
For Melissa...and a bit about my journey west
Thought you'd love 'em! I do!
Purchased here (NSFW!) in San Francisco.
More on the trip later! But here's some brief notes -
1. Pacific Ocean is f-ing COLD.
2. Cal-Mex is worlds better than NY-Mex.
3. Sunscreen works when applied properly.
4. Redwoods really are freaking HUGE.
5. Air conditioning? Who needs it!
6. There are no bad seats in AT&T Park. You can see Bonds go 0-fer from the nosebleed deck.
7. There is no good sleep on the redeye.
8. Three performances in a row? No sweat!
9. I loves me some big American truck.
10. Nerds are cool. Super cool.
7/11/07
7/10/07
7/9/07
I want to work in the Social Robotics lab at Yale.
Will this be available in stores near you?
Alternatively, isn't Social Robotics a great improv troupe name?
Alternatively, isn't Social Robotics a great improv troupe name?
7/8/07
Pandora Part 2, or my feelings can best be expressed by a song by...Kelly Clarkson??
Indeed.
"Because of You"
I will not make the same mistakes that you did
I will not let myself
Cause my heart so much misery
I will not break the way you did,
You fell so hard
I've learned the hard way
To never let it get that far
Because of you
I never stray too far from the sidewalk
Because of you
I learned to play on the safe side so I don't get hurt
Because of you
I find it hard to trust not only me, but everyone around me
Because of you
I am afraid
I lose my way
And it's not too long before you point it out
I cannot cry
Because I know that's weakness in your eyes
I'm forced to fake
A smile, a laugh everyday of my life
My heart can't possibly break
When it wasn't even whole to start with
Because of you
I never stray too far from the sidewalk
Because of you
[Because Of You lyrics on http://www.metrolyrics.com]
I learned to play on the safe side so I don't get hurt
Because of you
I find it hard to trust not only me, but everyone around me
Because of you
I am afraid
I watched you die
I heard you cry every night in your sleep
I was so young
You should have known better than to lean on me
You never thought of anyone else
You just saw your pain
And now I cry in the middle of the night
For the same damn thing
Because of you
I never stray too far from the sidewalk
Because of you
I learned to play on the safe side so I don't get hurt
Because of you
I try my hardest just to forget everything
Because of you
I don't know how to let anyone else in
Because of you
I'm ashamed of my life because it's empty
Because of you
I am afraid
Because of you
Because of you
"Because of You"
I will not make the same mistakes that you did
I will not let myself
Cause my heart so much misery
I will not break the way you did,
You fell so hard
I've learned the hard way
To never let it get that far
Because of you
I never stray too far from the sidewalk
Because of you
I learned to play on the safe side so I don't get hurt
Because of you
I find it hard to trust not only me, but everyone around me
Because of you
I am afraid
I lose my way
And it's not too long before you point it out
I cannot cry
Because I know that's weakness in your eyes
I'm forced to fake
A smile, a laugh everyday of my life
My heart can't possibly break
When it wasn't even whole to start with
Because of you
I never stray too far from the sidewalk
Because of you
[Because Of You lyrics on http://www.metrolyrics.com]
I learned to play on the safe side so I don't get hurt
Because of you
I find it hard to trust not only me, but everyone around me
Because of you
I am afraid
I watched you die
I heard you cry every night in your sleep
I was so young
You should have known better than to lean on me
You never thought of anyone else
You just saw your pain
And now I cry in the middle of the night
For the same damn thing
Because of you
I never stray too far from the sidewalk
Because of you
I learned to play on the safe side so I don't get hurt
Because of you
I try my hardest just to forget everything
Because of you
I don't know how to let anyone else in
Because of you
I'm ashamed of my life because it's empty
Because of you
I am afraid
Because of you
Because of you
7/6/07
I do loves Pandora radio
You say you fell while holding diamonds in your hands
"It's your fault for running, holding diamonds," I said
And I offer no sympathy for that
I hear that it was you who died alone
And I offer no sympathy for that
Better off I sparkle on my own
And someday love will find me in the rough
Someday love will finally be enough
I turned around 3 times and wound up at your door
Now you say you know all you did not know before
And I offer no sympathy for that
I hear that it was you who died alone
And I offer no sympathy for that
Better off I sparkle on my own
And someday love will find me in the rough
Someday love will finally be enough
I got your love letters
I threw them all away
And I hear you think that I'm crazy
I'm driving 95
And I'm driving you away
And I shine a little more lately
Someday love will find me in the rough
Someday love will finally be enough
Someday love will find me in the rough
Someday love will finally be enough
I shine a little more lately
- Anna Nalick, "In the Rough"
"It's your fault for running, holding diamonds," I said
And I offer no sympathy for that
I hear that it was you who died alone
And I offer no sympathy for that
Better off I sparkle on my own
And someday love will find me in the rough
Someday love will finally be enough
I turned around 3 times and wound up at your door
Now you say you know all you did not know before
And I offer no sympathy for that
I hear that it was you who died alone
And I offer no sympathy for that
Better off I sparkle on my own
And someday love will find me in the rough
Someday love will finally be enough
I got your love letters
I threw them all away
And I hear you think that I'm crazy
I'm driving 95
And I'm driving you away
And I shine a little more lately
Someday love will find me in the rough
Someday love will finally be enough
Someday love will find me in the rough
Someday love will finally be enough
I shine a little more lately
- Anna Nalick, "In the Rough"
7/5/07
She's a firecracker!
It's Lily! (Somehow the picture got unlinked but she is a DOLL!)
8 lb, 10 oz, 22.5"
7/4/07
my new niece (cousin, technically, but I've been promoted to aunt)
7/2/07
pithy, no?
people are like
oranges
a thin outer layer of intensity
a tough layer of bitterness
a sweet juicy nourishing center
oranges
a thin outer layer of intensity
a tough layer of bitterness
a sweet juicy nourishing center
6/27/07
Clot-i-versaries.
In a few days is the first anniversary of my second (third?) blood clot. It was my second hospital stay for blood-clot related reasons, let's just keep it simple.
My first set of blood clot(s) - one in each lung, technically making them 'pulmonary emboli' rather than 'deep vein thromboses' (which is what the second one was) - happened two years ago; in fact, my second clot-i-versary coincides neatly with my wedding anniversary. I spent my seventh anniversary in Bellevue with a heparin drip, an EKG and pulse oximeter, a tray of uneaten chicken and mashed potatoes, a desultory hand-made card from my husband, and incredible amounts of tension. Shortly after I arrived home from Bellevue, after I went back to work, I asked him to move out. Nothing like piling tension on tension.
The second clot - the DVT - was a surprise, because I had quit the Pill and considered my problem solved. Actually, that's not true; I lived in holy fear that it would happen again. When I was striding across the overpass in the Newark Gateway Center I felt a sharp, fierce twinge in my calf and I knew what was happening.
The first time I was hospitalized I was numb and exhausted, having been running around with blocked pulmonary vessels for far too long. The second time, I was angry and anxious. I was uncooperative and demanding; I got my bags searched by Mt. Sinai Security when I railed against my lack of anxiety meds and threatened to take my own pills.
Over the past two years, I've paid thousands of dollars for injectable heparin. I've been so loaded with Klonopin I've been a zombie at times, the anxiety attacks being fierce and frequent. I've looked like a fat bruised junkie more than I care to remember. I've taken innumerable cabs to stew in innumberable waiting-rooms for constant monitoring and agonizing.
Since last year, I've lost weight, continuing on my pre-clot fitness 'kick' with renewed energy and a great deal more help and support. It's no longer a kick; it's how I'm trying, as best I can, to live my life. At the same time, I'm trying to go easier on myself, personally, while pushing myself to live properly (as my old shrink used to say).
I've gotten a new shrink, and a new doctor or two. They are wonderful women who help me take care of myself in so many ways.
This year I learned that I have a condition that will clot up my blood with relatively little to do with me - it's a genetic problem that causes me to produce antibodies that gum up the works (anticardiolipin antibody syndrome for you educated folk). You'd think this would make me more fatalistic; it may have two years ago, but it strangely doesn't now. It has made me rethink the desire to have children, which waxes and wanes, because the miscarriage risk is incredibly high. An interesting corollary, no doubt, to my reproductive woes.
Two years ago, or one year ago, I couldn't have handled this news. Two years ago, I'd not be wearing a skirt without stockings or probably even this patterned pink top that I adore. I'd not be pumping weights at the gym with pleasantly few aftereffects the next day, or less than I expected. I'd not be walking a six mile walkathon, or running for a train (in my case, a fast hobble down the subway steps; my peculiar knee anatomy has resigned me to my awkward downhill gait). I wouldn't be marching in a Memorial Day Parade. I'd not be forsaking a bag of chocolate almonds on my desk or refrigerating half a sandwich after lunch.
I'm very lucky. I'm loved and needed and alive. In the peculiarly wobbly cycle of life, it's what I am truly needed to be right now.
My first set of blood clot(s) - one in each lung, technically making them 'pulmonary emboli' rather than 'deep vein thromboses' (which is what the second one was) - happened two years ago; in fact, my second clot-i-versary coincides neatly with my wedding anniversary. I spent my seventh anniversary in Bellevue with a heparin drip, an EKG and pulse oximeter, a tray of uneaten chicken and mashed potatoes, a desultory hand-made card from my husband, and incredible amounts of tension. Shortly after I arrived home from Bellevue, after I went back to work, I asked him to move out. Nothing like piling tension on tension.
The second clot - the DVT - was a surprise, because I had quit the Pill and considered my problem solved. Actually, that's not true; I lived in holy fear that it would happen again. When I was striding across the overpass in the Newark Gateway Center I felt a sharp, fierce twinge in my calf and I knew what was happening.
The first time I was hospitalized I was numb and exhausted, having been running around with blocked pulmonary vessels for far too long. The second time, I was angry and anxious. I was uncooperative and demanding; I got my bags searched by Mt. Sinai Security when I railed against my lack of anxiety meds and threatened to take my own pills.
Over the past two years, I've paid thousands of dollars for injectable heparin. I've been so loaded with Klonopin I've been a zombie at times, the anxiety attacks being fierce and frequent. I've looked like a fat bruised junkie more than I care to remember. I've taken innumerable cabs to stew in innumberable waiting-rooms for constant monitoring and agonizing.
Since last year, I've lost weight, continuing on my pre-clot fitness 'kick' with renewed energy and a great deal more help and support. It's no longer a kick; it's how I'm trying, as best I can, to live my life. At the same time, I'm trying to go easier on myself, personally, while pushing myself to live properly (as my old shrink used to say).
I've gotten a new shrink, and a new doctor or two. They are wonderful women who help me take care of myself in so many ways.
This year I learned that I have a condition that will clot up my blood with relatively little to do with me - it's a genetic problem that causes me to produce antibodies that gum up the works (anticardiolipin antibody syndrome for you educated folk). You'd think this would make me more fatalistic; it may have two years ago, but it strangely doesn't now. It has made me rethink the desire to have children, which waxes and wanes, because the miscarriage risk is incredibly high. An interesting corollary, no doubt, to my reproductive woes.
Two years ago, or one year ago, I couldn't have handled this news. Two years ago, I'd not be wearing a skirt without stockings or probably even this patterned pink top that I adore. I'd not be pumping weights at the gym with pleasantly few aftereffects the next day, or less than I expected. I'd not be walking a six mile walkathon, or running for a train (in my case, a fast hobble down the subway steps; my peculiar knee anatomy has resigned me to my awkward downhill gait). I wouldn't be marching in a Memorial Day Parade. I'd not be forsaking a bag of chocolate almonds on my desk or refrigerating half a sandwich after lunch.
I'm very lucky. I'm loved and needed and alive. In the peculiarly wobbly cycle of life, it's what I am truly needed to be right now.
Potatoes are done but I'm awake
A touch of insomnia perhaps. Although I was quite productive - I now have several leftover bean tostadas (corn tortilla, veggie refried beans, taco sauce, fat free cheese and some lowfat sour cream); pesto potato salad with grilled salmon (stolen freely from here minus the olives with the salmon as my idea) and an extra grilled salmon fillet. Not to mention a freezer full of brownies (baked Sunday).
I have heard that there are two kinds of people in the world - those who like olives and those who don't.
I have heard that there are two kinds of people in the world - those who like olives and those who don't.
A new avatar?
I think I need a new avatar. Kyle Secor circa 1990s you've been good to me, but it may be time to move on.
But who, pray tell, who do I use to represent my ghostly presence on these internets?
More to come. I've got potatoes cookin'.
But who, pray tell, who do I use to represent my ghostly presence on these internets?
More to come. I've got potatoes cookin'.
6/26/07
News you can use
From Gawker.
Bleah. Shouldn't have read it during my lovely Chipotle lunch.
(As the doctor in Bloom County said to Steve Dallas after his tragic flammable-mascara accident, "Smooth chested men leave me clammy.")
Bleah. Shouldn't have read it during my lovely Chipotle lunch.
(As the doctor in Bloom County said to Steve Dallas after his tragic flammable-mascara accident, "Smooth chested men leave me clammy.")
What's new with me?
Not much, what's new with you?
Jem & The Holograms was a smashing success last night by all accounts. I had a blast, especially at the end watching the finale (my work here is done) from the tech booth with a swinging and bewigged Pat Baer.
I've lost my cell phone and resigned to the fact of sucking it up and buying a new one (no not an iPhone, thank you very much). Maybe I'll go balls-out and get a Treo, or just get the crappiest POS in the place.
Comedy partner Dale put the idea into my head of having a dinner party. Pad Thai, anyone?
I'm going to the gym tonight for sure, after putting in some good working hours.
Now that Jem has gone on, I need to sit back and get my own creative priorities in order. And straighten out some other business-business. Yikes!
I bought a friend (nickname pending) some lovely DVDs for his 33rd birthday - The Aristocrats and Season 1 of Dr. Katz. He was sweet enough to wait until I called to open them, and he was pretty thrilled. Nothing like getting someone the right gift!
Next week's July 4th. I'm not a fireworks fan, but I may hit the Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Contest bright and early! Trying to get 'Pembleton' to go with me, who said he won't go if Kobayashi (champ with a sore jaw) pulls out. Status is day to day!
This weekend's a ways off but I'm making some minor plans - Chinatown, maybe the roller derby (Bronx Gridlock!) or just chilling out/cleaning house, which I sorely neglected last weekend. Possibly scooting to Long Island for the day.
Indeed, things aren't bad at all.
Jem & The Holograms was a smashing success last night by all accounts. I had a blast, especially at the end watching the finale (my work here is done) from the tech booth with a swinging and bewigged Pat Baer.
I've lost my cell phone and resigned to the fact of sucking it up and buying a new one (no not an iPhone, thank you very much). Maybe I'll go balls-out and get a Treo, or just get the crappiest POS in the place.
Comedy partner Dale put the idea into my head of having a dinner party. Pad Thai, anyone?
I'm going to the gym tonight for sure, after putting in some good working hours.
Now that Jem has gone on, I need to sit back and get my own creative priorities in order. And straighten out some other business-business. Yikes!
I bought a friend (nickname pending) some lovely DVDs for his 33rd birthday - The Aristocrats and Season 1 of Dr. Katz. He was sweet enough to wait until I called to open them, and he was pretty thrilled. Nothing like getting someone the right gift!
Next week's July 4th. I'm not a fireworks fan, but I may hit the Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Contest bright and early! Trying to get 'Pembleton' to go with me, who said he won't go if Kobayashi (champ with a sore jaw) pulls out. Status is day to day!
This weekend's a ways off but I'm making some minor plans - Chinatown, maybe the roller derby (Bronx Gridlock!) or just chilling out/cleaning house, which I sorely neglected last weekend. Possibly scooting to Long Island for the day.
Indeed, things aren't bad at all.
6/23/07
Whoremoans (say it fast)
Things that have gotten me mildly choked up lately:
1 - The end of last week's "Big Love"
2 - Two or three songs from "Jacques Brel is alive and well and living in Paris" and "Jesus Christ Superstar"
3 - Half of Carole King's "Tapestry"
4 - Checking myself out in the locker room mirror in Danskin workout leggings and a tshirt from ninety or so pounds ago and now resembles a "Flashdance" shirt
5 - Shopping with my Mom today
Things that are puzzling:
1 - How I can buy obscure cookie ingredients at the supermarket and forget cat food
2 - Why I have a Palm Pilot at all and whether I should sell my laptop or not (that I am typing on right now)
3 - Why I am slightly fatter on one side of my body than the other (along the vertical axis not horizontal) and why working out makes that more prominent. Seriously what the eff is up with my arms?
I need to menstruate and soon. For real.
1 - The end of last week's "Big Love"
2 - Two or three songs from "Jacques Brel is alive and well and living in Paris" and "Jesus Christ Superstar"
3 - Half of Carole King's "Tapestry"
4 - Checking myself out in the locker room mirror in Danskin workout leggings and a tshirt from ninety or so pounds ago and now resembles a "Flashdance" shirt
5 - Shopping with my Mom today
Things that are puzzling:
1 - How I can buy obscure cookie ingredients at the supermarket and forget cat food
2 - Why I have a Palm Pilot at all and whether I should sell my laptop or not (that I am typing on right now)
3 - Why I am slightly fatter on one side of my body than the other (along the vertical axis not horizontal) and why working out makes that more prominent. Seriously what the eff is up with my arms?
I need to menstruate and soon. For real.
6/22/07
I like my shirt.
Just saying. I'm surprised, because it's (a) made from unnatural fibers (b) predominately pink and (c) patterned with paisley and floral design. Still and all, it's a lovely shirt.
I like my skirt; it's black with some white daisies embroidered on, and the dry cleaner took it in a few inches at the waist for me.
I've been wearing less black lately, though, overall. Odd.
I like my skirt; it's black with some white daisies embroidered on, and the dry cleaner took it in a few inches at the waist for me.
I've been wearing less black lately, though, overall. Odd.
6/21/07
Hungry, pale or bawdy?
Yum! Another giggle for today. I'm so easy. And the photo on the main page is worth an extra chortle.
6/20/07
Very Important Poll #463
Who is your favorite Ricky?
A - Ricky Nelson
B - Ricky Martin
C - Ricky Ricardo
D - Ricky's Drugstore
A - Ricky Nelson
B - Ricky Martin
C - Ricky Ricardo
D - Ricky's Drugstore
6/17/07
Mornin' thinkin'
If someone makes you feel smarter, cuter and funnier than you sometimes feel about yourself, odds are you're going to want to keep them around. Right? Huh? Well?
Even if it freaks you out a bit.
Oh, and -
"If you're not fully emotionally available...be fucking celibate. Jerk fucking off.
Stop dating people who still have feelings who can still be hurt."
- Dan Savage, "Savage Love" podcast
I mean, it could be forever. It could be temporary. But, all in all, a good fucking rule to live by.
Even if it freaks you out a bit.
Oh, and -
"If you're not fully emotionally available...be fucking celibate. Jerk fucking off.
Stop dating people who still have feelings who can still be hurt."
- Dan Savage, "Savage Love" podcast
I mean, it could be forever. It could be temporary. But, all in all, a good fucking rule to live by.
6/15/07
A Very Special Interest Group on Lifetime...
While googling "Fat Actress" (for reasons which will become clear at some point) I came across this highly amusing piece by USA Today gossiper (yeesh) Whitney Matheson.
6/13/07
It's in my head!
I'm currently working in the Being John Malkovich office space. Not that the ceilings on the floor are actually half-height, but the fact that (1) it's adjacent to a construction zone, (2) the floor is 85% uninhabited and 90% dark due to unactivated motion detector switches, (3) it's too quiet and thus just plain eerie, all give it rather a dim and paradoxically cramped feel.
I'm also quite turned on right now, but for completely unrelated reasons.
And this is gross.
I'm also quite turned on right now, but for completely unrelated reasons.
And this is gross.
6/12/07
6/10/07
6/8/07
snort
I just started thinking of someone as a 'friend with drawbacks.'
As opposed to a 'friend with benefits.'
Get it? See the juxtaposition?
Ohhhh....I crack myself up, I do.
As opposed to a 'friend with benefits.'
Get it? See the juxtaposition?
Ohhhh....I crack myself up, I do.
duh-huh-uh, I'm a SCORPIO!
I always liked Rob Brezny's charming Free Will Astrology. May be silly, but he's got a neat turn of phrase:
I suggest we title this chapter of your life story "The Perplexing Joy of Hundreds of Emotions," or maybe "The Wild Peace of Way Too Many Feelings." That may be a bit of an exaggeration, but it's an apt reflection of your immediate future: extreme, expansive, melodramatic, spectacularly educational, and filthy rich with intrigue. You may not break the world's record for most mood shifts in a good cause, but you could very well smash your own personal record.
6/7/07
Stars, in their multitude.....
Aren't cheesy horoscopes fun? They inevitably make me giggle, nod knowingly or some such ridiculous assent to the generic assessment of my completely individual personality traits.
So here's the latest, from Glamour (I'm a Scorpio, surprise, you know how we are):
And while you're there, vote for "Jake" - as long as you think Jake should be Michael Somerville. I'm biased. Mike is a sweet funny guy who I've had the pleasure of being comedic with from time to time.
So here's the latest, from Glamour (I'm a Scorpio, surprise, you know how we are):
You tend to think of yourself as an emotional wreck, but there's a logical explanation for your obsessiveness. You're intensely emotional and mystically sexual (oh, those eyes!). No need to apologize. The key to your spiritual maintenance is finding healthful outlets for your passion, creativity, artistry and sensitivity. Yours is perhaps the most powerful sign of the zodiac. Take care not to surrender to Scorpio's darker side. You have the capacity to self-destruct and to destroy others. Your fear of losing control can wreak havoc, because it may induce you to grab power or attempt to control others excessively. When you're not doing well, you tend to detach and retreat from human contact. That's bad news because your intensity diffuses among groups. Sharing is vital to your long-term bliss. Your best match is someone who shares your interest in metaphysics and is charmed by your ethereal, fanciful musings. Don't batter yourself for your insecurities and emotional instabilities. Think of it as the cost of being a deep thinker. Your philosophies on such topics as survival, life's deeper meanings and reincarnation couldn't have become so highly evolved without a dose of depression. Still, you'll be fine. Your resourcefulness, work ethic, strength, courage and efficiency are your saving graces.
And while you're there, vote for "Jake" - as long as you think Jake should be Michael Somerville. I'm biased. Mike is a sweet funny guy who I've had the pleasure of being comedic with from time to time.
6/6/07
How big strapping gals look adorable
1. By standing next to a very, very tall dude. (If you are not aware, I am 5-9 barefoot. And by the way I was told that I look 'petite' and 'normal sized' by two different friends. Indeed!)
2. By wearing a friggin' sundress.
Well, kind of adorable. I was worried about my arms, but it was pointed out that the arms may not be the focal point of the dress.
And perhaps not using words like 'friggin' may help.
2. By wearing a friggin' sundress.
Well, kind of adorable. I was worried about my arms, but it was pointed out that the arms may not be the focal point of the dress.
And perhaps not using words like 'friggin' may help.
6/5/07
Confused? Yeah, me too.
I was trying to find a nice bouncy cynical song to post, but this is the one that popped into my head:
For the life of me, I have no fucking idea what this means.
I don't know how to love him.
What to do, how to move him.
I've been changed, yes really changed.
In these past few days, when I've seen myself,
I seem like someone else.
I don't know how to take this.
I don't see why he moves me.
He's a man. He's just a man.
And I've had so many men before,
In very many ways,
He's just one more.
Should I bring him down?
Should I scream and shout?
Should I speak of love,
Let my feelings out?
I never thought I'd come to this.
What's it all about?
Don't you think it's rather funny,
I should be in this position.
I'm the one who's always been
So calm, so cool, no lover's fool,
Running every show.
He scares me so.
I never thought I'd come to this.
What's it all about?
Yet, if he said he loved me,
I'd be lost. I'd be frightened.
I couldn't cope, just couldn't cope.
I'd turn my head. I'd back away.
I wouldn't want to know.
He scares me so.
I want him so.
I love him so.
- Jesus Christ Superstar, "I Don't Know How to Love Him"
For the life of me, I have no fucking idea what this means.
In brief
I haven't been able to write about stuff that I've been meaning to - AIDSWalk, the Memorial Day Parade, and Melissa's lovely wedding (just this past weekend).
But working backwards, I can tell you a few things I did at Melissa's wedding weekend (which was allover glorious) that I've never done before: having reiki, drinking 31 year old scotch, learning Magic: The Gathering, eating sausage casserole and gnome cake, meeting a man whose shirts I can wear (kind of like finding the Holy Grail), and visiting Stone Mountain (with the Southern Mount Rushmore). I did not, however, make it to the Waffle House this time south.
Here are the photos.
Now I've got work to do, carry on!
But working backwards, I can tell you a few things I did at Melissa's wedding weekend (which was allover glorious) that I've never done before: having reiki, drinking 31 year old scotch, learning Magic: The Gathering, eating sausage casserole and gnome cake, meeting a man whose shirts I can wear (kind of like finding the Holy Grail), and visiting Stone Mountain (with the Southern Mount Rushmore). I did not, however, make it to the Waffle House this time south.
Here are the photos.
Now I've got work to do, carry on!
6/1/07
Funzo Timewasters that are Good for You
I forget how much I enjoy McSweeney's:
From the irresistable (even if they constantly reject my submissions. Okay, submission) Review of New Food:
From the irresistable (even if they constantly reject my submissions. Okay, submission) Review of New Food:
I like my dried apricots like I like my men: thin, tart, and rather difficult to chew.
5/30/07
Nerd alert!
Spent the last half-hour discussing, among other things, adiabatic systems in varying contexts; as applied to quantum physics and computer science as well as thermodynamics. Reviewed the Hamiltonian operator and eigenvalues. The bomb calorimeter was fondly recalled.
Feeling smarter? Or just a wee bit dizzy?
Ack.
(I was going to post an appropriate Far Side cartoon here, but this gave me pause.)
Feeling smarter? Or just a wee bit dizzy?
Ack.
(I was going to post an appropriate Far Side cartoon here, but this gave me pause.)
Mildly amusing electronica
Hipster Cards
if you're lazy and/or a sucker for amusing freebie greetings.
if you're lazy and/or a sucker for amusing freebie greetings.
5/28/07
5/26/07
music geeks!
Stolen from targemq8 who stole it from bourbonsoul
Step 1: Put your MP3 player or whatever on random.
Step 2: Post the first line from the first 15 songs that play, no matter how embarrassing the song.
Step 3: Post and let everyone you know guess what song and artist the lines come from. (NOTE: posting in the comments is fine)
Step 4: Strike out the songs when someone guesses correctly. (Mine are bolded)
Step 5: Looking them up on Google or any other search engine is CHEATING! (Cheating!)
(NOTE: some of these may be covers. since you can't read my mind, really, I'll accept any acceptably well known artist)
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
1. There are places I remember...
2. Unchain my heart....baby let me be..
3. It was raining hard in Frisco
4. You're all I've ever wanted but I'm terrified of you
5. Pissing in a river, watching you rise
6. When you say love you're telling everyone...
7. I was a fighter always looking for trouble and my life was so empty there was nothing left to live for
8. I've been lonely, I've been waiting for you
9. In a desperate mind, little gardens grow
10. Love me two times baby, love me twice today
11.She says meet me at the gates at eight
12. What's wrong? What are you afraid of?
13. Oh my man I love him so, he'll never know
14. Love come quick, love come in a hurry
15.Ohhh comely l will be with you when you lose your breath
Step 1: Put your MP3 player or whatever on random.
Step 2: Post the first line from the first 15 songs that play, no matter how embarrassing the song.
Step 3: Post and let everyone you know guess what song and artist the lines come from. (NOTE: posting in the comments is fine)
Step 4: Strike out the songs when someone guesses correctly. (Mine are bolded)
Step 5: Looking them up on Google or any other search engine is CHEATING! (Cheating!)
(NOTE: some of these may be covers. since you can't read my mind, really, I'll accept any acceptably well known artist)
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
1. There are places I remember...
2. Unchain my heart....baby let me be..
3. It was raining hard in Frisco
4. You're all I've ever wanted but I'm terrified of you
5. Pissing in a river, watching you rise
6. When you say love you're telling everyone...
7. I was a fighter always looking for trouble and my life was so empty there was nothing left to live for
8. I've been lonely, I've been waiting for you
9. In a desperate mind, little gardens grow
10. Love me two times baby, love me twice today
11.She says meet me at the gates at eight
12. What's wrong? What are you afraid of?
13. Oh my man I love him so, he'll never know
14. Love come quick, love come in a hurry
15.Ohhh comely l will be with you when you lose your breath
5/25/07
5/22/07
The extra 'e' is for extra....
If you get that reference, click below for your prize:
http://goyourway.net/
http://goyourway.net/
5/21/07
I am obsessed.
As an aside the link I got the last post's photo from may be the most adorable website for guys who want to get cute and meaningful (And by meaningful I mean 'canned cuteness that would make me cringe but is hilarious in the abstract) "pressies for their princess." Also, "pressies for your princess" sounds dirty but it's not
By the way, if any of you menfolk who read my blog and are so inclined (which I believe is a subset of the total, whose number is less than one), I would either be appalled or amazed with any bundle of crap ordered from this site and send to me. I especially loathe teddy bears, they collect lint. Still, I may turn all girly, it's a calculated risk.
Cut to later: I am officially obsessed with this website and I can't explain why. I think it's PMS. Stop me before I order something cute. I can't afford overseas shipping on this stuff.
By the way, if any of you menfolk who read my blog and are so inclined (which I believe is a subset of the total, whose number is less than one), I would either be appalled or amazed with any bundle of crap ordered from this site and send to me. I especially loathe teddy bears, they collect lint. Still, I may turn all girly, it's a calculated risk.
Cut to later: I am officially obsessed with this website and I can't explain why. I think it's PMS. Stop me before I order something cute. I can't afford overseas shipping on this stuff.
owwwww etc.
I did the AIDSWalk! I wanted to write lots and lots but of course was too achy to deal with it last night, and haven't put up the photos.
in the meantime here's a message from my quadriceps:
in the meantime here's a message from my quadriceps:
5/19/07
5/18/07
Best career move I've heard all day.
"I'm going to quit and start diving for treasure."
- Captain Yogurt*, Patent Attorney at Large
*not his real name. You know how much I love the pseudonyms!
- Captain Yogurt*, Patent Attorney at Large
*not his real name. You know how much I love the pseudonyms!
5/16/07
5/15/07
Weird food combinations I find that I enjoy
Maybe you will too! Or maybe you'll just groan.
1. Honey roasted peanuts and yogurt
I'm enjoying a French Vanilla (Stonyfield fat free) yogurt with HRPs from the deli downstairs. Crunchy/sweet/salty/creamy good!
2. Deli tossed salad
I have to say I see some pretty gruesome combinations out there; it's as if the salad counter toss is one's only daily refuge into creativity.
Mine is perhaps only slightly weird, but with serious shades of unhealty: blue cheese crumbles, mandarin oranges, cucumbers, tomatoes and occasionally bacon or walnuts. Sometimes avocado or asparagus wanders in. A touch of fat free honey dijon dressing. Romaine only, please! Keep your weedy mixed greens and nasty raw spinach.
3. Lipton noodle soup and eggs
A childhood staple. Kind of like homemade eggdrop soup but not as gluey (and with little noodles!) Ring noodle is actually better even though it is not technically "chicken noodle" but "noodle soup with chicken." Yum!
4. Black bean garlic sauce and sweet potatoes.
Grated sweet potatoes mixed with egg, flour and a spoon of black bean garlic sauce. Formed into tiny cakes and pan fried. Weird but great (and you may be getting the extent of my sodium addiction by now). From the late great Laurie Colwin.
5. My favorite smoothie
Milk or soymilk, ice, cocoa powder, Splenda, vanilla sugar free protein powder, peanut butter, and a handful of granola. Texture!
Queasy yet? In the next foodie episode, my on and off again love affair with dried meat and meat-stick products.
1. Honey roasted peanuts and yogurt
I'm enjoying a French Vanilla (Stonyfield fat free) yogurt with HRPs from the deli downstairs. Crunchy/sweet/salty/creamy good!
2. Deli tossed salad
I have to say I see some pretty gruesome combinations out there; it's as if the salad counter toss is one's only daily refuge into creativity.
Mine is perhaps only slightly weird, but with serious shades of unhealty: blue cheese crumbles, mandarin oranges, cucumbers, tomatoes and occasionally bacon or walnuts. Sometimes avocado or asparagus wanders in. A touch of fat free honey dijon dressing. Romaine only, please! Keep your weedy mixed greens and nasty raw spinach.
3. Lipton noodle soup and eggs
A childhood staple. Kind of like homemade eggdrop soup but not as gluey (and with little noodles!) Ring noodle is actually better even though it is not technically "chicken noodle" but "noodle soup with chicken." Yum!
4. Black bean garlic sauce and sweet potatoes.
Grated sweet potatoes mixed with egg, flour and a spoon of black bean garlic sauce. Formed into tiny cakes and pan fried. Weird but great (and you may be getting the extent of my sodium addiction by now). From the late great Laurie Colwin.
5. My favorite smoothie
Milk or soymilk, ice, cocoa powder, Splenda, vanilla sugar free protein powder, peanut butter, and a handful of granola. Texture!
Queasy yet? In the next foodie episode, my on and off again love affair with dried meat and meat-stick products.
For all you science nerds!
Isn't this cool?
For highly edumacated time-killing, try this site. Fun! A nice break from the gossip sites. Feyman lectures, anyone?
For highly edumacated time-killing, try this site. Fun! A nice break from the gossip sites. Feyman lectures, anyone?
5/14/07
5/13/07
Inarticulately yours
Earlier post
deleted
I know myself.
In the meantime why did the Sopranos and Entourage end in EXACTLY THE SAME WAY?
What I'd like to say to people, what I need to say to people and what I do say to people are quite different.
deleted
I bet I delete this within 24 hours.
I know myself.
In the meantime why did the Sopranos and Entourage end in EXACTLY THE SAME WAY?
5/10/07
5/9/07
That's what friends are for (with apologies to women named Samantha)
Herewith follows a transcript (edited for brevity and names) of today's intercontinental email exchange that made me giggle a great deal (a much needed giggle):
*my rapper/beverage name
*his rapper/mobster name
From: Shelly D*
Hey, be nice to me I'm having a rough day!
On 5/9/07, Sammy the Brit* wrote:
Um...now I have nothing to say.
I suppose I can try. You're not bad. I don't mind you. You're kind of alright, I guess.
From: Shelly D:
Well I guess that's alright. You're fairly inoffensive. It doesn't make my eyes bleed to look at you, usually.
On 5/9/07, Sammy the Brit wrote:
I don't often feel sick to the pit of my very soul and being at the mere mention of your name.
From: Shelly D:
Most of the time, simply seeing your name in print doesn't cause me to have violent convulsions.
On 5/9/07, Sammy the Brit wrote:
Some nights I don't wake up screaming when I remember that I know you.
From: Shelly D:
I have avoided assaulting the majority of men who vaguely resemble you in height.
On 5/9/07, Sammy the Brit wrote:
I have avoided the women that vaguely resemble you.
From: Shelly D:
I have renounced my preferences and now only date women except for women named "samantha".
On 5/9/07, Sammy the Brit wrote:
You have made me immensely relieved that my suspicions about your preferences were right all along, but now I am scared to date women at all, just in case you have beaten me to them. Unless they are called Samantha, in which case I am safe as long as I don't mind shouting my own name out in bed. (which I don't).
*my rapper/beverage name
*his rapper/mobster name
From: Shelly D*
Hey, be nice to me I'm having a rough day!
On 5/9/07, Sammy the Brit* wrote:
Um...now I have nothing to say.
I suppose I can try. You're not bad. I don't mind you. You're kind of alright, I guess.
From: Shelly D:
Well I guess that's alright. You're fairly inoffensive. It doesn't make my eyes bleed to look at you, usually.
On 5/9/07, Sammy the Brit wrote:
I don't often feel sick to the pit of my very soul and being at the mere mention of your name.
From: Shelly D:
Most of the time, simply seeing your name in print doesn't cause me to have violent convulsions.
On 5/9/07, Sammy the Brit wrote:
Some nights I don't wake up screaming when I remember that I know you.
From: Shelly D:
I have avoided assaulting the majority of men who vaguely resemble you in height.
On 5/9/07, Sammy the Brit wrote:
I have avoided the women that vaguely resemble you.
From: Shelly D:
I have renounced my preferences and now only date women except for women named "samantha".
On 5/9/07, Sammy the Brit wrote:
You have made me immensely relieved that my suspicions about your preferences were right all along, but now I am scared to date women at all, just in case you have beaten me to them. Unless they are called Samantha, in which case I am safe as long as I don't mind shouting my own name out in bed. (which I don't).
He remembered!!!
"Happy aborted anniversary."
- the actual ex
Sigh. At least I still have the blender and the KitchenAid. They seem to have outlasted.
- the actual ex
Sigh. At least I still have the blender and the KitchenAid. They seem to have outlasted.
5/7/07
Fabulous funny food link du jour of the day
No sh@#%t, Sherlock.
What American accent do you have?
Created by Xavier on Memegen.net
Created by Xavier on Memegen.net
New York City. You are most definitely from New York City. Not New Jersey, not Connecticut. If you are from Jersey then you can probably get into New York City in 10 minutes or less.
Take this quiz now - it's easy!
5/4/07
Celebrate something beautiful.
This is a touching essay by Jeff Pearlman on espn.com (I don't have anything to add, really):
Celebrating life in the face of death
By Jeff Pearlman
Special to Page 2
"Death tugs at my ear and says, 'Live, I am coming.'"
-- Oliver Wendell Holmes
Two Mondays ago, Cindy Sherwin's life ended.
She was riding her bicycle through New York City, training for the upcoming Ironman Triathlon in Lake Placid, N.Y., when she suffered an aneurism and became brain dead. Unable to save her, doctors at Roosevelt Hospital kept Cindy on life support so her brother -- married two days earlier -- could return from his honeymoon in the Maldives to say goodbye.
I first learned of this story when my wife hung up the phone, turned toward me and said, simply, "You won't believe this." Cindy was the daughter of one of my mother-in-law's closest friends. She was, at age 33, a model of vigor and health. Along with the five marathons and myriad triathlons she'd completed, Cindy worked as a personal trainer. Fitness was her life. Her passion. "The rabbi asked us to sit down and throw out words to describe her," says Elaine Schaller, Cindy's mom. "My thought was that she was a gift from an angel. She was my gift from an angel. 'Special' is too trite of an adjective for her."
My wife was right. I couldn't believe it. For the next few days, Cindy's death consumed my thoughts. One moment you're doing the Hora at your brother's wedding, the next you cease to exist.
Three days after Cindy was taken off life support, I switched on my computer and saw the headline CARDINALS' HANCOCK KILLED IN CAR ACCIDENT. Although major league baseball was my beat for nearly six years, I had never met Josh Hancock. Truth be told, I knew almost nothing about the man. Was he a lefty or a righty? Was he married? Religious? A smart dresser? A Travis Tritt fan?
What I did know was that in the ensuing days and weeks, precise rites of passage were certain to unfold. The media would zero in on the Cardinals, pull players aside, ask in (understandably) semi-hushed tones, "How do you cope with something like this?" and "What will you remember about Josh?" Members of the team would respond, in (understandably) semi-hushed tones, "We're gonna do what Josh would have wanted, which is to continue to go out there and play hard." Shortly thereafter, the Cardinals equipment manager would affix a black patch with Hancock's uniform number to a sleeve, or maybe somewhere above the chest. There would be moments of silence, the unveiling of a mural or plaque. A month later, maybe two, Hancock's relatives would throw out the first pitch at Busch Stadium. They'd receive a standing ovation. "Josh is loving this up in heaven," Jim Edmonds or Braden Looper or Chris Carpenter would say. "I'm pretty sure he's smiling down on us right now."
I am by no means mocking such a routine. Death isn't a 6-4-3. It's complicated. Slippery. Dimensioned to the infinite degree. But as I was wandering the streets of Manhattan last week, perhaps crossing some of the same blocks that had comprised Cindy Sherwin's final journey, I stumbled upon something of a personal revelation. When those close to us pass, we immediately -- often robotically -- turn to ritual. Jews like myself sit shiva, tell some funny stories and eat cookies. Military personnel fire off shots into the air and play taps on the bugle. Baseball players wear patches and hang the deceased's jersey from an empty locker stall. It's all in the name of healing; of finding a way to understand why a Cindy Sherwin or Josh Hancock passed and -- most important -- to soothe the pain.
But maybe, just maybe, we shouldn't be in such a rush to soothe the pain. Cindy Sherwin is dead. Josh Hancock is dead. Soon enough, you and I will be dead, too. We will no longer possess thoughts or feelings or hurt or joy. We will be lifeless. Nothingness. Such is not hypothetical, but reality. Life ends.
I want to force myself to think about that, and then embrace what Cindy Sherwin and Josh Hancock no longer can. I want to order the Reese's Pieces Sundae with extra whipped cream. I want to lounge in the sun at Shea Stadium on a lazy August afternoon alongside my 3-year-old daughter and a gimantic (her word, not mine) box of Cracker Jacks. I want to run in the pouring rain and belt a karaoke version of "Sometimes When We Touch" and drive for layups in Paul Duer's driveway and wrap my arm around my wife's shoulders as we watch the sun set from the bench in our front yard.
I am petrified of death. Beyond petrified. But do not soothe me. I demand to be reminded of my mortality every day. That existence is not permanent. That our time is fleeting and our hourglass easily breakable.
From my vantage point, that's the way we truly honor Cindy Sherwin and Josh Hancock and the many others who pass on too soon.
First, think of all the joyful, amazing, life-defining things they will forever miss out on.
Then, without delay, go do them.
5/1/07
4/26/07
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
