Ridiculous

I just got home about 3am. I have been trying to get home since midnight.

Fucking trains. Every one that I took was using some weird alternate route. I transferred 6 times to get home. My hero was the MTA conductor on the A train taking an alternate route over a stretch of the F line. Were it not for him I would have sat at that god foresaken, or should I say F forsaken stop all weekend.

This after going to a super popular trendy joint for a friend's 23rd birthday. Reservation for a party of 15. The restaurant refuses to seat a party unless everyone is there. An hour after the reservation time eight of us were there. One had to leave before the waiter came to the table. And then five more people showed up. Twelve people were crammed around two tables that barely seat 4 a piece.

On the plus side the place was relatively inexpensive - and everyone chipped in well enough that we covered the tab with no disputes and no one feeling sore about paying in too much. A rarity with groups of more than 5 who don't all know each other really well. This party somehow managed to avoid the free rider problem. Which is pretty amazing and says a lot for my friend and the kinds of people that she is friends with.

If you put tofu in your curry I think it would help to season and lightly sautee the cubes first or at least steep them in the curry sauce. Bleah.

Y'know, I can't really tell you what I have done lately that was as fun as blogging or reading the new Harry Potter book.

Seems like I do all kinds of stuff all the time but it's quantity not quality. Gotta work out how to flip that.

count you out like a mathematician

LOL. Okay Sunjunkie, the blogs resume.

Neato energy news:

Sun, sun, sun, here we come
You may or may not know that the Gordon Research Conferences are a very prestigious series of science conferences that happen year 'round on a variety of important and hot topics. Poking around their website today I found out today that part of the electricity they use is solar! which is totally groovy.

I'd like to see the Rhode Island state government setup solar panels on all of their buildings and not just help others get the funding to do it. And have other government buildings and universities and other such entities follow suit.


Black Google
This guy, Mark, wrote a post calculating the energy savings that might result if Google changed the color of the background of their page from White to Black. He did a follow up interview on the subject as well.

This post has lead to a creation of: Blackle - the black background google.


Other News:

-I got a drastic haircut.
-I bought an ipod - my old one died on tour.
-I saw the Bill T. Jones / Arnie Zane dance company in Prospect Park and was bascially gasping in amazement. There is one dancer in his company is particular who is sooooo incredible.
-I read the new Harry Potter book in the span of about 19 hours. Very satisfying read. Expelliarmus!
-I applied for what I have always imagined to be my dream job. I crashed and burned during the test assignment in the second round. Very bad for morale. I am looking for a new dream job
-New York and I are going through a rough patch. The Honeymoon is over. I find myself turning to her and saying, "Geez, why do you have to make everything so difficult? Is all of this really necessary?" I know the answer. The city's reply is, "This is me. This is how I roll. Take me and love me or leave me. There is no in between."

-My new favorite song is "Konichiwa Bitches" by Robyn.

"I'm so very hot that when I rob your mansion
You ain't call the cops, you call the firestation" -Robyn

Confession of a Frivolous Beauty Dupe

"Now you bangs are cut. Your hair is curled. But still the world is cruel."
-Frankie Avalon

I suspect that it says a lot about me that the character in Grease who I most identified with as a kid was Frenchie and probably not good things.

There's so much noise in the ether. Magazines, radio, gossip, news, "news," movies, television, internet, ....

And one message that always seems to filter through is that life is better if you are beautiful. Also if you are rich. Also if you are thin. Also if you are successful. Also if you are famous. Also if you are young.

Who knows. It's probably true.

But back to beautiful. At various points in my life I look in the mirror after having had my heart stomped on and decide that what I need is to make the best of what I have and surrender to the discipline of beauty.

I don't read the women's magazines anymore which, admittedly, has made me a much happier person. While on tour I picked one up at C M S & J's house in Athens, GA and read it. It was only after I picked through the whole thing that I noticed that it was an issue from 2004. Nothing much has changed in the world of girl in the interim. According to Mademoiselle, I still need to buy new clothes, new shoes, and new shades of eyeshadow and lipstick. I still get a haircut, lose weight, exfolliate, and find ten easy ways to dress up daytime look for nighttime.

Yeah. Beauty.

As Dolly Parton's character says in Steel Magnolias and many a beauty acolyte as well, "There's no such thing as natural beauty."

So in the times in my life when I decide that I need meditate on the discipline of beauty I turn to C who makes a serious study of this stuff.

And then I spend too much money on little bottles and jars of stuff that I never use and eventually throw away.

It has happened again. I spent a little too much time at Sephora and Aveda and Target and CVS and Haven and spent way too much money on stuff.

Eyebrow stencils
Hydrating serum - to hydrate
Vitamin C serum - to encourage the growth of collagen and help with sun damage.
A glycolic acid lotion - to exfolliate and reduce the size of my pores. It tingles.
A moisturizer for sensitive skin
An eye cream - Aveda has a really nice one.
A foamy cleanser - delightful
A deep conditioner - miraculous
A pricey sunscreen in a cute bottle - This purchase was a mistake. It makes me break out.

I will not bore you with the pricey price tags involved. I will just say that for the next few weeks I am going to flirt with botulism and pack a lunch to bring to work. This will not cover the costs of what I have purchased. It will merely serve to make me feel slightly less guilty about it.

Now I am trying to create a routine in which I smear all of this crap on my face a few times a day.

All of this brings to mind the beauty company Philosophy. They make a product called "Hope in a bottle." Which is pretty clever.

I understand that these products will not make me look younger, nor will they make me more beautiful, nor will they help me find love or success or happiness or enlightenment. I have essentially purchased hope in many different bottles with many different labels. I have sublimated a desire for one set of things through the purchase of things that would theoretically make me look like me with a clearer and shinier face.

But hey, it's keeps me off the streets and off the sauce. ;)

The most I hope for in this scenario is to use every product to the last drop. To do that and then take a break before my next go around.

The other thing that I hope for is time spent kindly looking at myself in the mirror. That would be nice.

Maybe Philosophy will come out with a product called "Bliss in a bottle." Maybe a bath oil or something. That would sell like hotcakes.

I can't help but wonder why the ether doesn't send out more messages like: "Say Please and Thank you." "Wash your hands." "Wear Sunscreen." "Cover you mouth when you cough and sneeze." "Smile." "Tell someone that you love them." "Take more walks." "Have more picnics." "Be clear about what you want and ask for it."

They are things that don't get much media play. They are the kind of things that we hear from our mothers and fathers. And cheesy as it sounds, doing these things will probably make your life better.

Growing accustomed to the unthinkable

I passed a poster in the subway station for the sequel to the movie Hostel. Someone had written across it in black marker: "Stop Torture."

And I thought, "Yes. Stop Torture."

There are any number of arguments one can make about fiction and fantasy and art and about how it's "just a movie," and I should just lighten up.

Still, I wonder at how our concept of entertainment has become so strange and extreme, so twisted? Don't you?

This is the part of the show where I start to sound like the little old lady that I am.

Torture is not entertainment. Torture is evil.

Stop Torture.

www.amnesty.org

so true

"if there's one thing i believe with all my heart, it's that the quality of work is completely independent of filthy lucre. they have nothing to do with one another, and most of the best work in the world has no monetary value at all."
-Domystic

Free on Friday

The whole concept of summer Fridays is a curious one. For two months of the summer if I come into work 15 minutes earlier and stay 30 minutes later, I get to take Friday off every two weeks.

And this being my very first one ever, I wholeheartedly proclaim summer Fridays to be awesome. I miss this opened ended time in which I can get up or got back to sleep. Read a book or take a walk. The kind of day where anything might happen. I could do anything. And really, even if I do nothing it's the best day ever.

Summer Fridays are a little piece of HR genius.

too funny

This site was brought to me today by a site called thoof via Daily Candy.

They were highlighting this cartoon.

In clicking around I ran across
this one. The bottom panel has me laughing out loud.

The good life

"What is best in life? To crush your enemies. To see them driven before you. And to hear the lamentations of their women ...."

-Conan the Barbarian

Baselines

My college roommate freshman year liked to give blood and then get drunk.
It's not recommended. She liked it because giving blood lowered her baseline. Her tolerance was lower and she could get really drunk really quickly.

Along the same lines I am sooo happy today. On my return it would seem that my life baselines have been lowered. I am euphorically ecstatically giddy. Because, today, I am not in a cramped moving vehicle, I am not sitting for hours twisted like a pretzel, I can stop what I am doing and go to the bathroom anytime I want, I got 8 hours of sleep last night in a bed and I plan to get a bunch more sleep tonight.

Indeed, as Ace of Base might say, "It's a beautiful life."

back to life, back to reality

The previous post was number 666. And coincidentally, on tour I sang a Mystechs song called "Sweet 666Teen."

It's hard to know where to start and what to say. It's hard to know what not to say too. The innocent and the wicked each clamor for the protection of silence. ; )

I was not as prepared this time. My performances were uneven. There were moments where I disappointed myself but in turn there were also times when I surprised myself and in a good way. There is more touring to come in August and I will be more prepared by then. Perhaps with better preparation there will be more space created for the unexpected.

Towards then end of the tour I skipped a date and went to a wedding. There is much to say about this as well. And again hard to know what to say. It was really strange to be back in Champing-Urbanana. A stroll down ten years of living. Ten years in which a lot happened. My mind was brought to ponder my most disasterous love affair and surprisingly it was not from the year 2005. Go figure.

And I am sorry to report that the guy I had decided should be my future husband has a gorgeous really awesome girlfriend who he will marry. Ah well. As RJ might say to that with a shrug ... "Them's the breaks."

But mostly and most importantly, it was really wonderful to be in the presence again of good friends. To see the loving community of people with whom I was lucky enough to spend time when I lived and loved in Urbanana.



I rolled into the office today to find 39 unread work emails waiting for me and several others to be attended to. My head's pretty fragmented today. I remembered to pack office friendly clothing but I forgot to pack nice shoes and I forgot my work ID and access card. So I can't leave my desk to go pee, b/c I will have no way to get back in.

And under my desk I have lace up leather boots and sweat drenched clothes that attest to what just happened.

Warning: this message may self destruct over the next few days.

*kiss*

On the Road Again

I'm gonna be on tour with the Mystechs starting tomorrow.

*wheeee*

For the next 12 days I'll be here or on the way here on driving away from here:

6/20 Chicago, IL
6/21 Toledo, OH
6/22 Buffalo, NY
6/23 Stratford, CT
6/24 Trenton, NJ
6/25 New York, NY
6/26 Takoma Park, MD
6/27 Greenville, NC
6/28 Spartanburg, SC
6/29 Marietta, GA
6/30 Murfreesboro, TN
(Well, I won't be there ... long story ... just means the show will kick your ass that much harder!)
7/1 Cincinnati, OH

It's a metal album. I will be running around in high (not tall) boots. There will be guitar solos. And we are touring with the Rick Johnson Rock and Roll Machine (who can jump very high and has cool glasses)
Come out and see the show! Buy me drinks! Get a hug!

http://www.myspace.com/mystechs

If My Heart Could Beat It Would Break My Chest

These are random offerings:

This saleman sings opera.

These links are ganked from Ze Frank: one, two, three

JW sent me this cartoon about big dreams.


Last Friday I went to a Buffy Sing Along. Buffy the Vampire Slayer is a television show that actually translates pretty well to the big screen. And certain emotions and implications writ large on the big screen resonate in a way that clicks differently than on the telly.

*spoiler*

When Buffy sings her big number at the end and you find out that she was in heaven before her friends decided to bring her back to life, the pain of that experience comes across on the big screen in such an exquisite way. It's devastating. Even when you are sitting there in a theater surrounded by hardcore Buffy fans singing their guts out and playing kazoos.

Dance a littler closer to me

People ask me what I am looking for in a man - some kind of checklist.

Long, long ago I wanted to be with someone who was smart, cute, and a really good dancer. When it was clear that the really good dancer part would be hard ... I revamped the list. In fact every time I date someone I find that I revamp the list based on what I learn about him or what I learn about me while being with him.

There's so much revamping that has happened over time that I no longer really have a list. I mean, I suppose it's there somewhere, but I find a mystery to the chemistry between people that serves to undermine the use of lists.

I'm hoping that I'll know it when I see it. I'm hoping that is a matter of kissing enough frogs. I'm hoping that it is a matter of time and not a matter of luck.

FS is getting married in two weeks and this is what she says about her fiance:

"turns out that I actually really just enjoy his company more than most people's"

That sounds like a great reason to be with someone.

The Wash Barrier

I did five loads of laundry today. Yesterday, I did two. I can only hope that this means that I am caught up, laundry wise. Although, I have a feeling that there is a sick here and a washcloth other there, each disappointed to have missed out on the fun. The fact that I have so much to launder is remarkable. I have no idea where it all came from. Yesterday, it was clothes. Today, it was linens, blankets, comforter, and sleeping bag.

And I vaccuumed. Yay! Someone throw me a parade.

As I trucked back and forth (and back and forth) to the laundromat I pondered the fact that many many people in greater NYC area pay other people to wash, dry, and fold their laundry for them. In fact, all four of the laundromats that I have used in the Nabe, offer laundry service.

It's tempting. It would be convenient. No lugging your clothes several blocks on foot. I put mine into a wheeled piece of luggage and shoulder bag. It always looks as if I am leaving New York for good when it's time to do my laundry.

With laundry service there would be no waiting around for your clothes to wash and dry. No need to wait for a free a washer or dryer. Dryers are almost always at a premium. No scrounging for quarters. No odd conversations with odd people.

Pay by the pound, drop off your clothes, pick them up the next day. Almost as good as living at home again.

You could spend that time doing something meaningful like write a symphony or read to the blind.

But I can't bring myself to do it. Seems strange to ask another person to wash my dirty drawers. Personal responsibility - I dirtied them, shouldn't I be cleaning them?

Maid service is another matter altogether ... if I could afford it, I would totally go for that. =)

via The South , Ok Go and the Youtube Universe

The South told me that it was the greatest music video ever. And after watching it I would have to say that the OK Go video for the song: "Here it goes again" is pretty damn delightful. And if you haven't seen it yet, allow me to offer you this link.

In additional hilarity someone created this video response.

This is one video for which I would really like to the special DVD featurette.

What I suspect after working 7 months as an assistant

The only assistants that are having any fun are magician's assistants.

eating heart

I got it into my head that I wanted to eat heart. Not my own or the heart of anyone I know but heart nonetheless. I settled on the hearts of chickens. At the local grocer you can buy a pound of chicken hearts for $1.89. So I did that and went online to find me a recipe. Chicken hearts are not the most popular of meats to cook, so there weren't that many recipes to choose from. I did find a stir fry recipe.

So, chicken hearts look a bit like liver. They also look vaguely like a section of a part of the male anatomy. And so staring down at them in the wok as you brown them is weird. It's not just the shape, but as they are "browned" they turn a familiar color as well. A color that this picture doesn't reflect.



Kind of like a scene from "The Cook, the Thief His Wife and Her Lover," a movie that I saw while in college. It was so disturbing that I watched most of it through my fingers and had trouble sleeping for many days after.

The chicken hearts still have some blood in them which will run out as you cook them and make a kind of blood gravy that smells like chicken. It makes it hard to determine if they are getting successfully browned. They looked cooked but there's still blood seeping out.

I stir fried them with onions, garlic, and mushrooms and served them over brown rice. They tasted vaguely, ever so vaguely, like liver and had this curious chewy texture. Which I guess would happen with a muscle like the heart.

I am trying to decide what is missing from this dish for me and whether I want to cook heart again. Off the top of my head, I think it needs a little sweet, maybe a little fruit. Maybe. Beside that I am not sure. Maybe hearts are to be held and not to be eaten.

stencil madonna

Is it street art or vandalism?

Green tubs roll on overhead tracks to the checkout counter

Have you ever been to B&H Photo Video?
I was there for the first time today. The battery for my camera died and I have been trying to get to the shop to buy a replacement since a little after Valentine's Day.

After many evenings of leaving work and rushing to the store only to find it closed (they close at 7pm), I made a point of going over on my lunch hour. The place is magical. It's an exercise in guided chaos and traffic control. Wow.

The folks that work went to great lengths to find me a less expensive alternative to the battery that I was trying to replace. The man behind the counter knew what camera I had just from my description of it, "I know that camera well," he said. And in the end they probably saved me over $30 dollars. When does that happen?

One of the young men working on the main floor even wanted to ask me on a date. (!)

I am no camera buff but if I was (or if ever I become one) this is probably the place where I would get my gear fix.

quotable enviable life strategies

“You been thinkin’ I’ve been bored. Self indulgent, self destroyed.
I’ve been busy, Baby, I keep busy. Quittin’ every job in New York City”.

-Tim Fite