an entry

it's been a pretty busy week and a half, but not so busy that it should preclude me from updating with a good frequency. the end of the month is always a little crazy at work, as i am a pretend accountant but we have a real close at the end of every month. i think the real reason is that i have a harder time writing when things in my emotional life are feeling pretty okay. black despair and horribleness found in every situation? WRITE ABOUT IT ON THE INTERNET! feeling manic and silly and ridiculous? WRITE SILLY STUFF ON THE INTERNET!

i am trying to work on experiencing my emotions and not just trying to analyze them intellectually until they go away or i am distracted by something else. so i will also try to write on a more regular basis.

that reminds me of something my mom used to yell at my dad for; he would call me a space cadet and she would freak out on him, going on about self fulfilling prophecies, and clearly convinced that assigning a role in childhood attaches that role to the kid for life. i think she's right, but it's weird that that's what i remember. their argument about whether to use some semi-cruel endearment. i don't know if my mom remembers that. she used to be a huge feminist, but now she reads mystery novels and sells mary kay.

upcoming or in situ topics:

updated topics list:
knees and onions
milk
illness
the color blue
favors
the unbearable lightness of being
Pixar
What to do with all my change
Time Travel
improvisers' love/hate relationship with people at our shows who are not also improvisers.
family vacations
sleep deprivation
"Things I want to do in NYC"
"Who would play me and my friends in the movie of my life"
"What songs I want to play at my funeral"
"What one vice I would take on if there was no physical, emotional, or spiritual danger"

i am going in no particular order, and reserve the right to interpret your topics in deliberately annoying ways. boo-yes, mother-copulators!

Pixar

i still haven't seen toy story 2. and i don't think toy story is that good.

monster's inc., the incredibles, and finding nemo are all awesome movies.

wall*e was also awesome.

ratatouille is on my list of movies to see. i hope patton oswalt had some profit share clause in his contract.

real life entry

the dark knight was amazing. i saw it as soon as i could, and it was truly astonishing. this is one more drop of positive in a sea of nerds creaming themselves in pleasure, but it really was that good. it was thrilling and dark and intense and somehow uplifting. although it felt weird seeing it on a hot july day, i am glad it did, because watching that on a bleak february day would be too much to stand. it managed to make Batman Begins look like a fucking 'my little ponies' tv movie for crying out loud. i can't recommend it enough, you guys. it made me excited about film again!

i hope there weren't any substantive spoilers in that. i'm trying to avoid posting them, but it's hard when it's such a great film and all i want to do is talk about it. see it, and then we CAN talk about it.

walking back from the theatre, 'the only way' by mark erelli (as covered by ellis paul and vance gilbert) came up on my ipod and it was perfect. especially the following stanza (?):

But they circled wagons
They gathered round
As they bravely pulled our brothers
And our sisters from the ground
And I know
I owe them more
Than to be afraid

in obtaining that quote, i have found out that the version i have is a cover, and the original writer, mark erelli, went to bates college and might know kate spencer. i will have to ask her. 'oh hey kate, this singer songwriter i know from college... no i didn't go to school with him, he just did 1 or 2 shows every year on campus, and i have all his albums, and he's great; ellis paul? yeah well he and this other folk singer, vance gilbert covered this one song by this guy who i read about on the internet and found out he went to bates around the same time as you? uh. yeah. do you know him?'

note to self: imagining future awkward conversations is almost as bad as reliving conversations after they have happened and cursing yourself for every perceived awkward or potentially inappropriate moment.

bad data's show with 'thank you, robot' and 'we can't live in a cave' on friday was really fun. many thanks to the people who made it out. i enjoyed myself thoroughly. i teched the previous TYR hosted nights and it was so much fun, but it was great to be able to perform too. the whole night reaffirmed for me how much i need to put comedy generally, and writing and performing in the forefront of my efforts. i need to stop being a a lazy asshole. also, i had an awesome time at the bar afterward, which was much needed.

i tech'd a show on saturday, where it was roughly a billion degrees inside the theatre space. it managed to be a funny and thoroughly entertaining show nonetheless. my hat is off fat penguin and daystallion, two incredibly strong and talented independent improv teams for pulling that off. thanks to andrea and bridget in particular for being my 'lights helpers', hitting the lightswitch across the room to give the black out after the heat cause the entire lightboard and one of the A/Cs to blow a fuse. yay heat waves! i can't imagine what this city was this like in the summer before the subways were air conditioned.

my two rehearsals were both fun this weekend as well. amey goerlich is an awesomely perceptive coach. i started a new 501 class last night with zach woods. the first class was really great. it's a small class (13!) and it seems to be filled with really strong players for the most part. i am really psyched about learning from zach; his notes on scenes were spot on; no punches were pulled, but his advice was always well-thought out and constructive. and he was really emphasizing joining in the fun always, which is a major issue of mine right now. i feel compelled to be the straight man fairly often, and i am working on being more emotionally authentic in my performances; both of those things cause me to remove myself from the action of the scene and start commenting on it. i can start to keep my perspective while still joining in on the fun. TIMETOPUTTHATINACTION,MOTHAFUCKAS!

also, bridget (fat penguin) and seth (thank you, robot) are in my class and that makes me smile because i lurve them.

What should i do with all my change

suggested by cassidy, the falcon.

commerce bank, aka the best bank ever, has a free change sorter. you don't even have to have an account at the bank to utilize that feature! and while this means the number of strongly-smelling, housing-disadvantaged people who will be waiting in line with 'in common', as it were, is rather sharply increased, it also means that you can get $37 dollars that would otherwise stay in the everlasting ephemera of the huge bowl on the top of that one bookcase near where you take your clothes off.

so sally forth, young buck! quit your mouth-flapping and carefully place that collection of mostly-pennies into a straining plastic zip bag, lug it laboriously to the closest commerce bank, as recently acquire by TD Banknorth, a mere 3 subway stops south of your apartment with the broken AC and get some sweet, 'free' money! you may have to pay with a short amount of time spent standing behind that one gentleman who smells of old milk, leather shoes and that peculiar mixture of sour B.O., cigarettes, and big red gum that is normally only attainable only by assistant art teachers in high school! and then buy coffee for a few days with it! it doesn't count as part of your normally budgeted food allowance!

milk.

to me, milk is like mark walhberg. he's a great, often vital part of an ensemble cast; 'i <3 huckabees' = AWESOME. hot, spiced hot chocolate with handmade marshmallows? FANSTASTIC. but by himself, or if he tries to carry a whole project by himself, it's usually a disaster. 'planet of the apes' (2001) = yikes... just... don't. milk by itself in a glass = oh no. why..? like... ah... just... no. and if it's an ensemble piece with the wrong chemistry and poor planning, it's almost more painful. 'four brothers'? do you guys remember what a piece of shit that thing was? marky mark ruined chiwetel ejiofor for me. and he's awesome! cold milk and soggy cereal? do you guys remember how awesome frosted flakes are right out of the box? milk ruined captain crunch for me.

and captain crunch is awesome.

however, also like mark walhberg, milk provides the genesis for a lot of stuff that somehow surpasses it's own potential. i am thinking of course of cheese, and 'entourage'. and ice cream. and 'boogie... nights'?

it is possible to push a metaphor so far into the ground that it's no longer recognizable as a metaphor. it just looks like cottage cheese that's been dumped in the dirt, and there's one ant stuck in it, and also like that P.O.S. 'the happening'. OH SHIT, YOU GOT OWNED MARK WAHLBERG, AND BY EXTENSION, M. NIGHT SHYAMALAN!

i am aware that some of you milk proponents will find fault with what i have posted here. i can only reassert that i am right and you are wrong.

knees and onions.

a topic suggested by the super-fancy, very kind michelle dobrowsky. she hosts an open mic at the parkside lounge almost every thursday that was my personal introduction to performing written material and i will never forget that awesome stage.

knees and onions. my first-impulse stories for both of these are pretty sad-sack so i am going to go in a slightly different direction for both.

one of my favorite meals in the universe beef stroganoff, served over egg noodles. as i believe i have stated elsewhere in this blog, i have the palate of a 10 year old. beef stroganoff fits entirely with that taste profile. if you are unfamiliar with the dish, it's basically a creamy beef stew, usually quite salty, with chopped onions and mushrooms, often served with or poured over noodles. also, i am not sure if i mentioned this already, IT IS DELICIOUS. just a really great combination of flavors and textures when it is made well; tender beef, al dente noodles, soft yet firm mushrooms and sliced onions giving it just the right level of crisp. seriously, it's awesome.

i have not had it since september 2005.

in early fall 2005, after having graduated from college, and working at trader joe's for 3 miserable months, i had quit and gotten a job working at the barnes and noble cafe, starbucks' developmentally disabled, stingier cousin. it was pretty lame, living in a home town i had NO social connections in, and without a real, 'career' type, job. but i was dealing with it by trying to focus on getting healthier and recovering from a junior -> senior year of college that almost killed me, literally. i was still in the process of discovering what i could and could not eat. at the time, i probably thought i could still eat vegetables if they were cooked (i can't), which explains why i thought it would be a great idea to cook beef stroganoff for my mother's two sisters and significant others when they came to visit.

a bit of background; my parents are both from decidedly new england and specifically boston families; my mother is the daughter of recent (catholic) scottish, irish and portuguese immigrants; the kind that took ahold of their adopted land fiercely and completely, and my dad is the son of vaguely WASP-y swamp yankees. my mom has 3 sisters. all of whom seem to think they are smarter, and therefore, better than her. to some extent, that perception has extended to my two sisters and me. i deal with it by being tight and resentful and overly proper around them, alexis shuts down, and suzi gets silly and then cries later at how much their caustic, sarcastic remarks hurt her. i should have known how they would react to me trying to do something as complex as making one damn meal.

when i decided i would make beef stroganoff for them, i was honestly excited. i am not a great or consistently interested cook, but what i make usually tastes awesome. i like cooking, when i can be bothered to do it (and deal with the clean up). i decided to go all out and really dress up one of my favorite dishes. i got red onions and some shiitake mushrooms (there's really not much you can do to dress up a recipe originally found in the 'economy' section of a 1967 Fannie Farmer Cookbook). coming home from the store, it occurred to me that i probably shouldn't play around with a recipe when my hyper-judgemental relatives were coming to visit.

it was a disaster. i was cutting the onions too small - they cut the other half of the onions in long slices when i had been dicing. i was slicing the the beef in the wrong direction and in the wrong size - one third of the beef was sliced in long flat strips like stir fry, the other 1/3 in cubes. that the mushrooms had to be soaked. no, not soaked, rinsed then sprayed then put in the refrigerator. finally i just opened a can of mushrooms and put them in the pan. at this point, i knew i could either flip out and assert myself and what i was cooking, or i could give up and let them cook the beef stroganoff how they wanted, and they would walk over me in their casually and unintentionally cruel way for the rest of my life.

i put down the knife, washed my hands and went to the family room to watch an episode of the fairly odd parents on nickelodeon. the meal was terrible.

laziness, 1 ; assertiveness, 0.

my knees are weird looking. i have knobbly ones. a girl in on the track team in HS teased me about them to my face once, and mike fafard, a kid i went to pre-school with but never really had a conversation with, actually defended my weirdo knees. it was the only time that a guy in i grew up defended me against being made fun of; it was 8 or so years past the point when having someone stand up for me really mattered, but it clearly made an impression because i still rememember that chilly practice sophomore year, sitting by the baseball diamond after school quite vividly. interesting sub-note, mike married my best friend from HS two years ago. they have been together for almost a decade now, and we've still never had a conversation.

things i have eaten today:

a solitary twix bar
one (1) bottle of water
1/2 of a small cheese sandwich

explanations forthcoming. maybe. come to champagne and cupcakes followed by summer fridays with thank you, robot with guests bad data (yay!) and newer team, we can't live in a cave.

i would like to give you a... HUG FROM THE HUGMONSTER STOMP STOMP STOMP!

a reason i feel inadequate as a writer.

a good deal of the reason i never feel up to par as a writer (beyond the fact that i am lazy with my diction and also just lazy generally) is that basically everything i want to express has already been written. specifically, it's already been written by Douglas Adams. he passed away in 2001, but not before shaping much of my comedic and written sensibility. most of what i write is in a specific style i attribute primarily to him. he worked in radio and comedy before becoming a novelist, and therefore most of his books SOUND many times better when read aloud than when read silently on the page. if you know me at all in person, and you imagine me saying the words instead of just reading them on the page... it sounds more... right. i am not sure if that is a deficiency of the writer for not being to create a written voice that can express itself in a verbal way ONLY, or if it's a specific effort to take into consideration the aural aspects of communication. regardless, there is a very specific, very English rhythym to Douglas Adams' work that affected me deeply, in addition to his quirky, playful, dark and intense worldview. hearing George Carlin talk about his incredibly dark views of humanity in recent retrospectives has convinced me of two things; 1) i should have worked harder to familiarize myself with Carlin's stuff long ago and 2) Adams was the British, novelist version of Carlin. Carlin aside... aside, i miss Douglas Adams terribly, and suggest his books (specifically the books on tape that he read) to anyone and everyone. below is the specific passage that i was reminded of shortly after writing yesterday's 'pizza and boobs' entry. this is from 'The Long, Dark Tea Time of the Soul', the main character is Kate Schechter, a New York writer who now lives in London.

She enjoyed the notion that New York was home, and that she missed it, but in fact the only thing she really missed was pizza. And not just any old pizza, but the sort of pizza they brought to your door if you phoned them up and asked them to. That was the only real pizza. Pizza that you had to go out and sit at a table staring at red paper napkins for wasn't real pizza however much extra pepperoni and anchovy they put on it. London was the place she liked living in most, apart, of course, from the pizza problem, which drove her crazy. Why would no one deliver pizza? Why did no one understand that it was fundamental to the whole nature of pizza that it arrived at your front door in a hot cardboard box? That you slithered it out of greaseproof paper and ate it in folded slices in front of the TV? What was the fundamental flaw in the stupid, stuck-up, sluggardly English that they couldn't grasp this simple principle? For some odd reason it was the one frustration she could never learn simply to live with and accept, and about once a month or so she would get very depressed, phone a pizza restaurant, order the biggest, most lavish pizza she could describe - pizza with an extra pizza on it, essentially - and them, sweetly, ask them to deliver it.
"To what?"
"Deliver. Let me give you the address - "
"I don't understand. Aren't you going to come and pick it up?"
"No. Aren't you going to deliver? My address - "
"Er, we don't do that, miss."
"Don't do what?"
"Er, deliver. . ."
"You don't deliver? Am I hearing you correctly... ?"
The exchange would quickly degenerate into an ugly slanging match which would leave her feeling drained and shaky, but much, much better the following morning. In all other respects she was one of the most sweet-natured people you could hope to meet.

hugs

another topic suggestion from kim ferguson.

i like giving hugs. i am a good height for hug-giving i think. and i give real hugs. none of this pussy, barely touching the shoulders bullshit. when i hug you... you motherfucking STAY hugged. it weirds me out when people hate hugs. i get that some people just aren't into touching each other, and that many have tragedy or abuse in their past that makes them uncomfortable with personal contact. my intentions are always innocent, and just a way to reestablish our personal bond, whatever the specifics may be. it reassures me, and in my selfish way, i want it to reassure you as well. i like to use hugging like bonobo chimpanzees use sex; to say a really quick 'hi', to reeassure one another, to maintain healthy social ties in the group, to show that i've missed someone, etc.

SO LET ME GIVE YOU A HUG! BAAAAH I'M A HUGMONSTER! STOMP! >hug< STOMP! >hug< STOMP!

pizza and boobs

i am soliciting topics to write about. this topic is from the illustrious and well spoken kimberly ferguson.

my favorite pizza is made by a place on main street in uxbridge, massachusetts called 'Harry's Famous Pizza'. they make a really great 'greek style' pizza. greek style isn't really common in new york at all, but you can find it all over the more developed parts of mass. it differs from thin crust, 'italian-style' pizza by having more cheese, and usually a combination of more aged, flavorful cheeses, as well as a slightly more savory (not sweet) tomato sauce. additionally, the crust is usually thicker and more bread-like. it's difficult to describe, but trust me when i tell you that it is AMAZING. i had it for the first time in 6 months when i went home over my birthday in June. it was so great. the overall experience was slightly dampened by the fact that we at it at harry's, sitting in an awkward booth decorated like 'greece', instead of driving home with it, smelling the hot steam and cardboard, then giving in and trying to steer, shift and stuff pizza in your face while not burning your face/mouth/hands with hot cheese oil, which is how i spent a large portion of my high school and college breaks. it's really excellent pizza. the cheese and sauce portions are always ideal, and they cook it long enough to carmelized the cheese so it's super hot and crispy on top. oh man you guys. i had to go get lunch halfway through writing this, and my cajun roast beef sandwich was nigh-on unpalatable in the face of the memory of a fresh harry's cheese pizza. oh man.

that is the one thing i miss in new york. really excellent greek style pizza.

as for the boobs portion of the entry i shall say that they seem pretty nice. like most things of a sexual nature, i don't really feel one way or the other about them. i want my own to provide a certain shape for my clothes, but that is a purely aesthetic desire. i dunno, boobs are not particularly offensive usually. although, i saw a woman today on 56th street in a strappy, boob-enhancing dress... but she had one at least 'D cup breast and one TEENY not-quite A cup breast. i was like 'um... er... uh.' and then i kept walking. it was weird. if she had breast cancer and can still show off her body, good for her. but if she's just a hippy or weirdo or hasn't noticed... um, ew, lady on the street. sorry to judge and all... but not a good look. yucktown, population you and your one huge super-boob.

hay guise, give me more topics to blog on! it's like an improv show, only i specifically have to write it beforehand.

a guy

a guy tried to grab my crotch while walking down 8th avenue yesterday. at 6 pm. while we were walking in opposite directions. he'd been leering creepily at the two hipster ladies in sheer cotton dresses in front of me, and i had been judging him for it. then he walks past them and totally tried to casually grab at the lady bits. i IMMEDIATELY, without thinking at all, yelled "FUCK YOU!" and kept walking.

i really wouldn't have expected that to happen in chelsea.

how can anybody know / how they got to be this way? (-the national)

my thoughts are pretty confusing and frustrating this week. a combination of continual lack of sleep, hormones and generally being a moron are mixing together into a lovely maelstrom-cocktail of me being a pathetic, panicky weirdo. and because i am chronically extroverted, when i feel these crushing waves of panic and ennui, i react by being even louder and more annoying and offensive than usual. often, my behavior is pretty funny, since until i get to the point where i am just inappropriate, i am a witty and energetic person. i have also found that people tend to laugh in panic when a crazed, small woman starts being incredibly weird at them in public. i think it must be an instinctual physiological reaction. a desperate attempt by our deepest lizard brains to subdue that member of the tribe who's completely lost it. laugh, and subdue the crazy person. chuckle, and help me with this rope. grin, and you grab her arms.

basically, on a semi-regular basis i tend to freak out and become a brittle and discomfiting weirdo, who is highly sensitive and negatively and intensely introspective. i am trying to work on it. partly by being more honest about what i am feeling. i always suspect that none of my friends really like me and when i feel weird or off or upset i usually clam up instead of expressing to people about how i feel. i had (improv, not red hot chili peppers) john frusciante as a coach recently, and he told me that when i am about to say a line that is loaded with emotion in a scene, i will say 'oh ____' or 'BUT ____' or 'REALLY _____' and put all the emotion into that first word, and let the rest of the statement fall flat. it's away of expressing my emotions a little bit, but then distracting everyone with a bunch of words at the end! and i totally do that in real life too! constantly! ugh. so now that i am aware of it, i am going to try to watch displacing my emotions away from their sources and feeling things in a more 'regular' way. in addition to hoping that i will grow as a person if i work on that, also, selfishly, i am hoping it will help me be a better improviser. hey, if you aren't an improv nerd, you don't really have to read that last part. i guess i could have told you that before. but i didn't.

there is a douglas adams passage about black, crushing despair and how it always hits students when they have essays due. i am no longer a student, but i do have several projects that i desperately need to sit down and focus on, including my resume, and writing my 1 person show, and doing the 4+ loads of laundry that i have been procrastinating doing for 2+ weeks (i am awesome at washing necessities in the bathroom sink you guys!) so that may be adding to the deep despair clutching at my heart and scrambling for a toehold in my soul. MAYBE. or maybe i am just allergic to inexpertly handwashed socks.

tonight, i am just going to sit and shut up and watch harold night. maybe i will give people hugs and just try to reconnect with people without doing a million bits.
YIKES.

oh i forgot to tell you

fit flops were a massive failure. there is something wrong with my feet, i think, because i literally become FULL of pain when i tried to walk in them. the pressure of keeping them on my feet, when concentrated entirely in the area between my big toe and my second toe was 100% more than i can deal with. i think that makes me sound like a huge pussy, which i am not. i have a pretty high tolerance for pain, although i am not a pleasant person when i am in pain, i can fucking deal with it. i've had 6+ major operations, and have had a plethora of lesser medical procedures. in other words, i am a total bad ass. but my feet are retarded. oh well. i returned them. the teva sandals i got earlier in the summer have no support, but i can deal with wearing them a few times a week i guess. they are comfortable enough.

in the end, i do recommend fit flops if you are able to wear thong sandals. they are both incredibly comfortable for the bottom of your feet, but they also really work your leg muscles. i felt it in my thighs especially.

i am still up. partly because my roommate got in the shower before me, but mostly because my heart is beating all hard and fast and generally weird and i am now convinced that i have another heart arrythmia. the last time i had one was when i was last very sick, and well... it's scary to think i might not be as healthy as i feel. i am going to get a check up and start acting like an adult.

i think i need to start being more upfront about myself. i don't think i am misrepresenting who i am... but i am certainly omitting information... and assuming others will interpret my 'pauses'. and i am afraid i am being like those people who take information and interest from others like parasites without giving up my own honest self up in exchange. and i hate those people. i find it so offensive. and i think i am doing it. looks like i have to start being much braver.

in conclusion, i hate hulk hogan. and i can now not listen to the beastie boys without playing the beastie boys warm up in my head.

telegram for east harlem:

mesh shirts are never a good idea. i can see your hairy man nipples. and i don't wish to.

moving

is terrible. i am just moving at work, not out of my sweet east harlem palace, but it's still terrible. they were on my ass all day yesterday to get moved out for this morning. SO 10:20 comes around today, and i am all moved out, except for one folder and my computer (because my brief stint in corporate america has taught me that you hold on to the internet until the last possible second). everything else is balanced precariously on a shelf next to my soon-to-be (shudder) cubicle, or in a cart next to said cubicle. BUT, not as you might think, IN this particular cubicle. no. because there are 3 people ahead of me who were supposed to move out of their cubicles into different cubicles by this morning, and who have NOT because they are awful. so i persist in being stuck in this limbo between my gorgeous office overlooking 57th street, with a decent view of the sky and interesting windows to spy on people through, and a shitty cubicle with no sound privacy right next to a damn fax machine AND 3 printers. grumblecakes.

also, my speakers are packed up so i can't even listen to music while fucking around on the internet.

if you came out to my show, the lorelei, on sunday, thanks so much! it was a really fun time, and totally packed, which is always awesome. i ended up writing some stand up jokes at like 6:30 that night, to perform that night, since my original hosting bit fell through. i think most of the material went over pretty well. email me if you have any specific thoughts on ma jokes.

the three improv teams were great too! i kind of wish i hadn't gotten a second whiskey and coke, since i was totally too tipsy by the end of the night. good thing i wasn't also responsible for blacking out any of the shows. i can tell that it would have been 'a halfway through a non-game move incidental sentence' black out, i think... had there been one. er. TIME BANDIT, AWAY!

fill-in-the-blank

1) i am a nerd because: ______________.

2) i am excited because: ______________.

3) i am apprehensive because: ____________.

4) i am procrastinating because: ____________.


1) i found out that the next artemis fowl book comes out 07/15 and i am REALLY excited for it. eoin colfer is great, even if he doesn't spend as much time on exposition as a length-and-detail-junky as i would want. also, garth nix's next book in the 'keys to the house' series comes out soon too. if i can find them cheap, both shall be bought and devoured shortly thereafter.

2) i get to leave work soon! and we have a pretty cool show tonight, you should come. 8 pm at the under st mark's theatre, st mark's btwn 1st and 2nd. and we are having a fun BBQ/partay at jill's awesome summer sublet tomorrow. i can't wait! yay summer!

3) i am apprensive because i am going to go try on some flip flops on for the first time since i first tried them on and threw them off in a fit of pain when i was 5 or 6. also, i am all weirded out today because i had a terrible dream where josh patten was a druggie who broke into my apartment and stole some of my stuff... but then i was watching a quentin tarantino zombie movie (in my DREAM, it was a scary movie... i don't even like scary movies, why would i make up a whole one in my dream?!) and then later i was sitting with some other improv types at a bar talking about how we were going to get josh help? what? anyway, it really freaked me out and i didn't get much rest as a result.

4) i dunno. it's a heretofore unchangeable personality trait of mine. i procrastinate about nearly everything. even about fucking retarded shit like going to the bathroom. i suck.

things i enjoy

telephone forms online that automatically tab from one section to the next and don't just stubbornly keep you in that first 3 number box for 30 seconds until you realize that you haven't actually entered anything new in that time.

new york. it's pretty awesome to live here you guys. i used to think i would hate living in a city, new york especially, but i was totally wrong. new york is awesome, even when it's not. come visit if you want!

iced caramel macchiatos from starbucks. no explanation necessary, except maybe to my bank account, amirite guys? eh?

comedy. the point of it is to examine the world, be offended/delighted/horrified by a part of it, and then tell a bunch of people about it in the most effective and creative way possible. it is AWESOME.*

wall*e! it was really good, i highly recommend seeing it. i was oddly distracted by the audience when i saw it, so i might just go again. but it was very sweet, and hits on every emotion. really dark and compelling too.

little baby puppies.

talking to people.

terry pratchett and douglas adams. and david gray. and the national. and calculators. and havarti cheese!

that's it. that's everything i like.





*carlos mencia is not comedy you guys.

new format

i totally revamped the look of this place. i really like it. let me know what you think, as long as what you think is 'omg i love it! looks so cute!' i don't want to hear your negative bullshit, motha uckas!

i am off to new team harold, to not watch my teammate and good friend in it, because she has to 'work'. boo, work, boo!

obviously i am staying for harold night. OBVIOUSLY.

crankly

there is a 'crankly' brooklyn landlord recently highlighted by gawker as one of the few new york eccentrics left. i've transcribed the note he left about the use of trashcans in his building because it cracked me up.

YOU TENANTS BETTER STOP BEING SO STUPID AND RETARDED
WHEN I PUT GARBAGE CANS
OUT, I EXPECT YOU TO PUT
YOUR GARBAGE IN THOSE CANS AND
NOT ON TOP OF OTHER CANS AND COVERS

LAST WARNING

i wish he had kept up the crazy tone a little more for the whole thing. it starts off promising, and then kind of peters off and sounds almost normal at the end... until we find out that it is... THE LAST WARNING!





this almost makes me wish i didn't have the most hands-off super in the history of the world. also, crankly is an awesome word. like crinkly and cranky. i haven't decided whether i think the gawker did that on purpose or if the writer just thinks that is how 'cranky' is spelled. my aunt makes delicious cookies called chocolate crinkles and now i want some. damn you, crankly landlord! damn youuuu!!

you can read the whole run down of new york's current eccentrics here: http://gawker.com/photogallery/nyceccentricswphotos/