pigeons and shit.

guess what! there's a pooping pigeon situation in cincinnati and it is MAJOR and they are about to start shooting at them every time they go number two.

/sports/football/nfl/bengals/2007-09-28-pigeons_N.htm

and now a short survey:

1- in your mind, and your mind ONLY, do you think pigeons look like flying rats?
2- do you like it when they kick a cloud of avian flu dust in your face with their pretty rat claws?
3- do you like the white ones better because they look like doves?
4- are you racist?
5- would you consider adopting one?
6- would you like to start shooting at them?
7- how comfortable are you with a BB gun?
8- how about an air-powered pellet rifle?
9- how long do you think it will take to potty train them in wash, d.c.?

thanks for making a difference.

LEFT, LEFT, LEFT RIGHT LEFT

the above is NOT to be read in a drill seargent's voice, rather, how you should feel about your feet when you have reached the top of an escalator, a flight of stairs, or when the doors have opened to the elevator or subway car. yes, even when you are walking on the sidwalk.
sideWALK. walk people, walk.
this is how i feel we should all think.
LEFT RIGHT LEFT.
KEEP IT GOING.
MOVE IT ALONG.
a man this morning was reading a book as he exited the subway car. we were all tripping over him and awkwardly adjusting our paces so that we had some sort of clusterfuck going on around a stairwell that i almost fell through and died. that last part was for effect, but the point is...
am i the only one who feels this way?
do i need to TIDAN, generally?

a random smattering

i am presently eating a little slice of heaven from billy's bakery called a chocolate cupcake with rainbow sprinkle chips on top of a chocolate cake. our delightful ex-intern brought them in as a gift. i don't much like cake, because i'm weird, but i more than make up for it by shoveling frosting by the spoonful.

fat and happy is underrated.

so there's this publicist that i work with, and her name is poppy. i have decided that it is the coolest name ever.

poppy myers.

does it not have a ring? i feel like i would see the world more brightly, like in the wizard of oz when it goes from black & white to technicolor.

wouldn't it be great to see things this way ALWAYS?

it has been a busy week, all around.
dinners every night; shoots every day.

tuesday's dinner was at salmon river. it's a totally depressing place, but can you IMMEDIATELY go to www.salmonrivernyc.com and watch the owner's video?

i had no idea that real live salmon roamed the earth.
i call them salmen.

these are the people in my neighborhood.

last night after the nail appointment, but before i ate an entire bag of indian corn (which i highly recommend doing if you never want to sleep again), i rode the elevator to my apartment. i live on the second floor so you can imagine the climb. i was facing the doors like normal people do, when the glossy woman to my left turned to face me. she was in her early 40s or late teens, it can be so hard to tell.

she was wearing chanel ballerina flats, a cartier tank watch, black trousers, and a pat-a-cake face. i was wearing running shorts, flip flops, and a hoodie that i have owned since this woman was doing keg stands at Princeton. her matchy sons, whom i've seen before with "the help," were uncoordinatingly bouncing some kind of ball behind me. they were below boob level so probably about seven or eight unless they are elves in which case that's AWESOME!

with crossed arms, she gave me the 4 Times Square up-down, glared at the elves, and began to whine. yes, whine:

"i wish I could get a pedicure on a sunday night."

long pause.

"must be nice."

no response.

"IT ALL CHANGES."

the doors opened.

i turned to face her.

"this isn't fun for me," i said. i don't like pedicures."

i smiled. i can't tell if she did or not because her face was filled with canine cologne or whatever they're injecting these days.

what i wanted to say was, "tsk tsk. you poor thing. it's so terrible that you only have a nanny for each child. YOU need a nanny TOO!"

thoughts for the fall

it is officially autumn and that means i can wear my new birthday boots.


diana says you can't hurry love.

my mama says love is a decision.

i believe that both are true.

time for a pumpkin.

this little piggie cried wee wee wee

i am having (a few) hang-ups with my hands and feet. my nails are a big part of the problem, but so are my bones.
i always thought i had nice long fingers and nice-enough feet.

lately i can't say this is true. my hands are rough. they look like they've been through a few things, even though they haven't. my feet are long, narrow, and bony. my nails are brittle.

i believe the culprits are:

pointy shoes
paper cuts
and age.

here is what is causing me anxiety. i agreed to be a hand and foot model (?!?!) tomorrow for a watch shoot, and now i have to get a manicure and a pedicure.

there must be something wrong with me. i hate these things. it starts the second i walk in. i have to pick a color, but i don't like nail polish in general, so naturally i am not pleased with any of the choices. they all look exactly the same and the names are vague, like "me talk pretty one day" and "tanning in barbados." after scouring the shelves for 10 mind-numbing minutes, i always end up with the same boring color anyway. i don't like sitting next to strangers pretending to enjoy reading about how well ben and jen are raising their violet and i also don't like how the pedi-filers assume that just because i have a lot of hair on my head that i require a full body wax.

also, it smells like someone tipped over a 10 gallon bottle of nail polish remover (because they did) and the chairs that massage you are not really massaging you. and you have to take off your jewelry and then some creepy woman rubs your back and pinches your neck a little too hard, and then you always stub your toe on something, smearing the nail polish and then they shake their head and curse about you in a make-believe language and redo the mistake about 50% as well as they did it the first time, and then you pay but there is always a credit card problem or you can't find your cash, so you dig into your purse ruining your manicure and it's a heart-racing ordeal, and the hard candies are always bad flavors and i am sweating just thinking about having to go.

but they close at 7 and my feet aint getting any prettier.

hasta.

things that are dumb

there's only one thing that i think is dumb today and it's called "THE WAY I ARE" by timbaland.

this song title makes me want to drop-kick michael jordan while screaming "AM AM AM AM!" over and over, but i love michael jordan so why would i do something like that? also, i don't want people to think i have tourettes, because i don't. i only have it when i have gone five blocks in a cab and i already owe $16. so like twice a day.

i also want to teach him the correct spelling of his name. i know it's hard to have to remember both your first and last name 100% of the time, but i think he should try to at least get it right 53% of the time, especially since his first and last name are the same thing.

there, that's all.

"AM!"

damn.

a beary tale

hey guys, remember Very Imporant Bears (aka VIB's)? well, they are staging a comeback as fall's hottest accessory, so back way the fuck up.
i am mad about humphrey beargart and i am all set to splurge.
the problem is this: beargart, along with lauren bearcall and katharine hepbearn, is sold out. since 1987. V.I.B.'s are hotter than 10 miu miu bags and miu miu 10 times fast is ME ME ME.

but that is neither here nor there.

anyway, do it today. do it now. you deserve it. if not for your country, do it for your president, miu miu.

on a lighter note, my neighbor is a cymbal crashing douchebag. is it wrong that i hope he electrocutes himself whilst playing his guitar?

glad we're on the same page. glad i metcha.

the moment we've all been waiting for

YOU NEED TO DO THIS RIGHT NOW, OKAY?! RIGHT NOW.

on cnn.com they are asking people "IF I WERE PRESIDENT" what would i do? they are telling us to "fire up" our videos and share our thoughts with THE WORLD!

"http://www.cnn.com">/exchange/ireports/topics/forms/election/if.president.html

i have been waiting for this moment for many moons. i'm sure you're already aware of this, but one of my favorite things to do is stand on top of a bridge chair belting out Heart lyrics.

i like some of the same things as most people, like long walks and sunsets. if i were your leader, we would do these things more often, like all of the time. i think our current president doesn't really stop to smell the roses, and I LOVE ROSES!!!!

here are even more things that We the People agree on: everyone would have a heart of gold and an afghan hound named farrah fawcett. we would have more chocolate covered coffee beans, because is it just me or are they IMPOSSIBLE to find?! and stamps. stamps are always so hard to come by and if i were president, they would drop from the sky every other monday at 3:30.

wouldn't it be great to have these things AND MORE? i will make your dreams come true.

GOD BLESS AND GUSENTEIT.

BREAKING NEWS

hello. i was devoured by a giant red ant monkey last night. he basically looked like a cross between these two people. he started out small, like ant-size, but then he became a flaming giant ant monkey, and i had to spring to action. the thing you need to know about ants is that they will not generally kill you even though they are fierce looking.
but remember what i said - HELLOO ARE YOU LISTENING??? - THIS was a giant red ant monkey with long legs and attitude.

anyway, the good news is, i made it. I MADE IT. i'm not sure you're aware of this, but most people don't usually survive the attack. but i did. so when you visit, please make sure to bring a large bag of peppermint patties as ants don't like peppermint. and candy corn and a little extra cash would be great, too. THANK YOU SO MUCH!

OBESE KIDS ARE GETTING FAT

hey how's it going. did you know that some of our nation's children are getting obese? i had no idea, so i'm glad i read the new york times:

/2007/09/16/business/16feed.html

turns out, it's a fat. remember the little boy who got sucked through the tube in the willy wonka chocolate river? that's what all kids look like today. i didn't know either because i hate children too. so god bless the united states of america for banning our three largest beverage companies from stocking satan's punch in elem. and middle school vending machines. can you guess which ones? they rhyme with hoka hola, bepsi, and thweppes. so instead of yummy drinks like hoke and biet bepsi, kids are going to be drinking dasani water, which is a much healthier alternative because it comes from a hoka hola drain pipe on the side of the road in detroit. HOORAY!

there's no place like

julie and i had a fight today in her childhood bedroom. there was pushing involved. the word "hate" was used. several times. we were five and eight-and-two-thirds all over again. but we're not kids anymore. we're 29 and 32-and-two-thirds, and this is not how big girls behave. i was ashamed. she went for a long walk. i sort of watched pans labyrinth.

the last time we got into a (big) fight was in a wendy's somewhere in upstate new york about 10 years ago. it was over chocolate pudding. we pinched each other. tears were shed. my mother turned around and gave the man with a three-year-old a knowing look.

this afternoon, after the fight, but before the company arrived for the party, i went downstairs to the kitchen. between sips of scotch and handfuls of spicy thai nut mix, my mother and i talked about sister stuff. "i remember the exact moment aunt lois and i decided to stop fighting. i was 30. i was pregnant with you and we just drew a line in the sand." i imagined them sitting on a beach with a piece of driftwood, but i don't think she was being that literal.

julie and i got ready for the party in the same room. we complimented each others' outfits. we worked on my mothers' birthday card. we presented her with the gift. we had a drink. we ate chinese food. we took a photograph on the steps. we never resolved anything.

everything is going to be okay.

the big six, oh.

my gorgeous mother turned 60 today. happy birthday. happy friday. happy new year. l'shana tova.

we had a family party tonight with an abundance of sweets: bday cake and hershey nuggets and pineapple-flooded fruit salad. missing were apples and honey and andes candie's from my grandmother's crystal-cut bowl. this was disappointing. andes candie's were always a myers family staple, but she is growing more senile with each passing day. i hate it. i walked around her house tonight taking photographs of the random things that remind me of my childhood: the precise thickness of the blue/green carpet in the living room; the beige patterned curtains in the basement; the ancient readers' digests collecting dust on an end table; a rusty old stationery bike; the ever-so-slightly cracked tiles.

she presented us with a folder containing letters and cassette tapes from our year in england (1984-1985).

precious. priceless.

julie at age nine was already so grown up and sophisticated: "i'm anticipating our travels to normandy and i am quite looking forward to dining on french fare." i was the baby, spelling-out everything phonetically and getting the lyrics to "ring around the rosy" all wrong: "ashes, ashes. FAWWWWLL DOWN!" our new york accents were so pronounced.

i will write more later, but everyone is downstairs. i should really go visit with them.

that is such a grandma gladys word: "visting."

it has been almost four years since she died. i think about her every day. it gets easier, but there's always a dull ache; a longing.

as promised

here is the carmen electra pic. see her stiletto? to the left is my face. you can't see it, but it's there.

hi.

the beat of brazil

here are some pix from 2xist. one thing is clear: they need to work out more.

truthfully

i never liked them. i thought they were gaudy; the bob ross-ification of the new york city skyline.
"and let's just paint a happy little tree over here."
tall, ugly, monstrous boxes.

it's not like i avoided them. i visited frequently, mostly with my grandma gladys who grew up in new york city and tried desperately to get me to like the same things that she did: chopped liver, sour cream with blueberries, the M9 bus. the first time i remember going was when i was about 10. we were coming down the elevator and when the doors opened, a little girl was standing there with her parents. she was my twin. i know people always say that, but she truly was. we looked exactly the same, right down to our side ponytails (it was 1988). we both stared at each other. my mother made a comment. we got out. she got on. we moved on.

i also remember visiting in the summer of 2000. i woke up one morning with a random urge. i hadn't thought about them in years, but i found myself walking south on broadway, and before long, i was taking the elevator to the top, and pressing my head against the glass. "just like ants," i heard someone say. it made me nostalgic. my grandma had once pointed out the same thing about the people below. i walked around the tower several times and went into that little room where you could take an aerial tour. the room darkened. your seat moved. it was fun. i kept the ticket stub. but mostly, i just remember that i felt safe. so safe. and i know this, because the thought never crossed my mind that i wasn't.

i miss them.

blame it on the rain

it rained. i guess i wished a little TOO hard. i got stuck in the epic september soak, and i don't think i will ever forget it. within 20 seconds, the avenues were flooded with calf-high water. i bounded across eighth avenue, dodging about five speeding cars in 4-inch heels. who does that? who wears those?

miracle of miracles, a cab pulled over.

"thank you so much, you saved my life!"
"sweet-haaat, i'm pullin' ova cause i'm tryin' to get a slize-a pizza."
"here," i said, thrusting my bag of chips up front. "have these. we have no time. i must get to the armory in 15 minutes."

and we were off.
we munched and gabbed about the day like old friends.

on NPR this morning they discussed (at great length), the consequences of working at the WTC site, post-9.11. and it's terrible, really. everyone ran for cover, except the people who rescued us and saved our city. and now their health has been compromised. i wish i could fix it. i worry for my friends, too. the ones who lived downtown. the city was burning for days and weeks. there's no way they were breathing healthy air.

but let's not dwell.

on a (much) lighter note, carmen electra shook her booty in my face tonight at the 2xist show. i had to fan myself. no, not because of her -- the brazilian supermales.

do you see what i see

here is the dress from the narciso show that i am never going to own. she looks like an angel. a very hungry angel.

i have decided that i am going to get apple television even though i don't currently own a television, nor do i have any interest in television programs. i think they're depressing. i feel anxiety when the Frasier skyline comes onto the screen, i hate the dingy Seinfeld colors, and the first few notes of Raymond make me twitchy and irritable. but apple tv is the answer. i don't know what the question was, but i'm pretty sure the answer is apple. generally.

it is officially 9/11. we were down at the world financial center tonight for the john varvatos show and all i could think about was how selfish it was for them to have the show atop this huge skyscraper overlooking ground zero on the eve of the anniversary. especially since tomorrow it falls on the exact same day of the week as it did six years ago. it's just wrong. i hope the sky is not bright blue tomorrow. i hope it rains. i hate that perfect 9/11 sky. it creeps me out. it's going to rain.

bloody sunday

dad sent pix from my bday. i attached a few. i can't believe my mom is turning 60 on the 14th. she looks younger than all of us, it's psychotic. the first pic is of me playing with the kids who basically told me i was a retard and know nothing.

so i have no idea what i was talking about last night.
tonight all i care about is the fact that i'm finally home at a decent hour and i can tackle so many exciting projects like cleaning my blender.

narciso was gorgeous. there was this ethereal white silk dress, but it would probably cost me three months rent, so i am going to just say no. philip lim was beautiful. there is one bag that i am having a meltdown over. i was fixated on it and i don't know why. it was tan leather with blocks of mostly primary color, and it caught my eye and i have to have it. basically i didn't see a weak womens show today, even at dkny and kors. most of the mens left a lot to be desired. it's not that they were poorly produced or unattractive. it's just that i found them to be somewhat unimaginative. you don't have to go overboard, but it's good to fall somewhere in the middle. then again, if everything doesn't look like banana republic, how are the masses going to wear it? sounds mean, but it's true. if you ask the 25 boys in my office what they're wearing tomorrow, 98% of them are going to be wearing something from banana. they all look great but they are starting to look like the same person. hybrids rarely exist outside of fashion. the only people rolling their cuffs "just so" or accessorizing with vintage fedoras or bright pink stripy socks are in fashion or in a similar field, like photography, advertising, etc. i find that men would much rather blend in.
women are so much more creatively inclined.
aren't we great?
i know.

listening to a nelly furtado song. "flames to dust. lovers to friends. why do all good things come to an end?" i know what you're thinking but i can't help it. i am no elitist when it comes to music.
forgot to mention that i got drunk at brunch today at paris commune. wendell and i decided that it would be a great idea to order bloody mary's for the table. halfway through the meal, nick turns to me and says in his authoritative british tone: "now nina, don't get too drunk...we don't need you falling down the stairs at kors." so of course i spend the next two minutes defending myself and explaining how gracefully i carry myself. "besides, i really haven't even had that much of my drink, so everyone needs to relax." i excused myself to use the restroom (which was really quite pleasant by the way. the lighting was nice and it made me look better than i do in real life). i took my time, spiffed-up a bit, laughed at the thought of falling down the stairs after half a drink. i even ascended a bit more slowly - regally, even - to prove my point. i imagined the woman passing by with her two children pulling them aside and saying "see how that young lady steps? like a queen."

and then

I FELL
UP
THE
STAIRS.

not down.

UP.

and nick saw the whole thing.
wonderful.
story of my life.
the end.

i aint no non sequitter

supposed to be sleeping because i have to get up bullshittly early for a show and i am not feeling it. sleep that is. i just can't sleep, WTF? listening to random itunes bullshit and i can't stop saying bullshit, damnit fuck.
this is my smartest post ever. i am so proud of myself it hurts.
i just spoke to J and Q. kidding. Q does not exist. i am trying to sound popular. and i'm not.
i have no friends.
kidding i hvae friends and they're great.
and i'm drunk. i mean i'm not drunk. fuck!

turkey urkey urkey oooo

this is the image that comes up when you google "best sandwich ever." it's the very first one and i think it's great that subway is doing so well. i, personally, just had the best one of my life from a random deli on broadway. it was some kind of grain bread with fresh turkey, ripe avocado, marinated onions and red peppers, and mayo and it was divine. really the best. the night is young and i am satisfied.

as promised, below are pictures from the spring/summer '08 thom browne show. i don't even know what to say, but i think tim blanks' review on menstyle.com pretty much sums it up:

http://men.style.com/fashion/collections/S2008MEN/review/TBMEN

i had lunch with B and jaime today at cowgirl. it was good to see them; just like old times. jaime constantly reaching across the table to touch B's hair and B swatting him like a fly. B is wonderful and nurturing and always has a stash of pinoli cookies and cherry ripes in his freezer.

i am supposed to make the trek out to brooklyn tonight for peter's party and while i really want to see him and give him the snoopy sno-cone maker (we are going to make scotch sno-cones), i am exhausted and have such an early day/late night tomorrow. not to mention levi's. but i hate disappointing people, especially peter. he's always so generous.

we'll see.

oh say. can you see?

today was not as exhausting as yesterday in terms of the workload, although my evening activities from last night caught up with me by midday. it looks like a kid took a charcoal crayon and drew half-moons under my eyes. the thom browne show was fascinating as always. ((see fig. 1 from last year)). i will post pix tomorrow. the good ones. the ones with rosette-adorned suits and streamer-coated coattails. you know it's over the top when anna wintour is cracking up in the front row.

i have absolutely no sweets in the house, and by house i mean apartment, and by apartment, i mean room, and it is really a shame. i just took a swig of Log Cabin maple syrup, and if you don't believe me, ask peter. he heard the whole thing and he was just as disgusted as you are.

i wrote this last night but i am just posting it now.

luciano pavarotti died.

we were talking about him today in the car -- about how he was sick. and now he has passed away and it is extremely sad.

it makes everything else seem shallow and stupid.

for example, calvin klein's 25th anniversary party for their underwear collection tonight.

basically this meant prepubescent boys and girls in glass cages wearing metal underwear and my (over)consumption of sliders and cupcakes and champagne as in the kind of pain i will be feeling in my head when i wake up for work tomorrow morning.

ugh.

i already feel sick and it's barely the next day.

please let there be cabs tomorrow. at the very least, let us have a fucking car. thank you amen goodnight.

breaking news

i can't even handle this picture of my cousin ella. i just want to squeeeeeeeeeeeze her!!!! this is the dinosaur i mentioned in yesterdays' post. the more i look at it, the larger and scarier it gets.

arf.

i'm fucking tired and the day starts extra early tomorrow.

wendell and i were talking about how it's way too early for fashion week. i know they had to move it up because of the jewish holidays, but i wouldn't have minded if it was during rosh hashannah (i don't even know how to spell my own holiday). they could had served apples and honey at the michael kors show, and i think it would've been cute. althouth the models may have gained .00003 lbs. of weight if they had eaten all of that sugar, so i guess this is in fact a horrible idea. we had a drink in-between shows tonight and talked about work and how grateful we are to have each other. it really is a gift to work with people you genuinely like and consider friends outside of work. i've come a long way since the abuse at 260 and 261 madison ave. and i know a few people who will second, third, and fourth that. i can keep counting.

but i won't.

so this is really cool. there was this study today confirming that men do, in fact, want hot women. it basically says that when choosing a mate, men are attracted to more attractive people, and that if there are two women and one is prettier and one is uglier, they will -- more often than not -- choose the more attractive one over the not as attractive one.

you can check that out here:

http://www.cnn.com/2007/TECH/science/09/04/dating.mating.ap/index.html

i had no idea. i personally belive that it goes to show that you do need to watch or read the news every day, such as. especially if you want to end up as smart as miss south carolina, and the people of the south africas and the iraq, you need to do so.

unrelated news

i was born on a sunny sunday in 1988 minus 10, and today was no exception.
many exciting things happened in the news, according to CNN:
*a 105-lb. woman ate 173 wings in buffalo new york.
*brad pitt and angelina jolie are ready for their fifth child.
*an escaped alligator scared a neighbor.

we just said goodbye to the last of the guests. it was perfect -- 29 people showed up for my 29th birthday:
mom dad julie grandma midge barbara elise ivan amy edie lulu kate dan maddy angelina nonno joanne peter ben erin ella
luke aunt diane uncle ronnie andy jordan jenny dave donna xavier.

the highlight of the party was grandma midge threatening two three-year-old children. "if you even make it to four."

wow.

speaking of the children, apparently i am not hip. they tried to give me a gift. it was red construction paper cut up into little pieces inside of a legal-size envelope. i picked out a red circle: "wow, is this one a piece of cake?" they just stared at me and shook their heads. i held out a long thin one: "is this a little girl?" silence, followed by edie, the biggest girl in the group: "no nina. NO. it's just paper." "really?" i couldn't let it go. surely there was more to this exciting presentation than just just paper for the sake of being paper. i held up a small rectangle: "isn't this one a doll?" "NO!" said maddy. it's just paper nina!" she's three years old. then ella handed me a plush dinosaur with blue leather horns(?). "wow, it's a big scary dinosaur!" "no nina. NO. it's a small dinosaur. and he's not scary at all."

what happened to having an imagination? do they still eat glue and pretend it's marshmallow fluff? do they still make rocks into pets? oh wait, i still do that. but you know what i mean.

gotta go catch the train.

fashion week starts tomorrow and i have to air out my mink(s).

my birdy

i googled "gluten free birthday cake" and this was the first image that popped up.

rats.

the party was wonderful. D's house with bruno is big and beautiful. i still can't get over it. they live on a tree-lined road in a four-bedroom house with a backyard, light fixtures, formal dining room, and everything. and they are going to install crown molding. at one point, we flipped through a book of coupons. what's cool is that choice brands, like oil of olay body wash, go on sale. this was great to know and i almost tore it out. i think i am going to start clipping coupons. i could also use a new set of candles and maybe a calico cat.

the following people were at the party:

erik and chrissy
dawn and bobby
benny and katie
jen and corey
brian
bruno
jeremy and georgie
kennelly and his gf'r

and a few others. it was nice to see everybody. we ate a lot, but i mostly ate tiramisu and apple pie and chocolate chip cookie pie. sweets are all i am really in the mood for. i think i am quite literally sugarcoating, and this is not healthy. i am going to die.

so i'm 29. it is my 30th year. everybody sang Happy Birthday to me, and i realized that this is truly a retarded song. it would have been much more appropriate if everyone broke out into "Enter Sandman" while i chugged a labatt blue and crushed the can over my head like old times.

home alone

just got up to my parents' house. it feels like someone poured aosept into my eyes.
it was a strange homecoming. the train ride up was lonely and being in this house by myself is sort of depressing. this used to be my childhood home, but we came up here so much over the summer together that it became a kind of destination for us. isn't that fucked up? we would sit out on the front porch, drinking scotch, and listening to the rain. we talked about the stars and the trees and the sounds of the country. we shot baskets, went hiking, went to the market. it was very much a suburban weekend life that we had going on, and now it's over. that's okay, it's just that this house was always my personal escape, and then it became OUR personal escape. it's funny how that happened, seemingly overnight. the thing is, he is sitting at home right now doing his work and not thinking about me or about us at all. he is able to compartmentalize. the high school looks so different, by the way. jock hall es no mas. i texted jamie and told him. he is in the middle of a desert in arizona. i should really get going. have a drink with the kids. i am writing too much. it is pouring out of me and i need to bring it in. i need to socialize and move on.

sweet idiots

just spoke to D. she basically told me to get my ass up to westchester to "hang out with the idiots i went to high school with." (see above shot of us from four years ago at the boat basin). it made me feel good. i think i will go because maybe we will do fun high school activities: mailbox bashing, driving too fast down dead-end streets, hanging out at the "power lines," buying candy and gatorade at exxon, and stealing street signs. aren't you jealous? i had what you would call an all-american high school experience: great friends, basketball, field hockey, soccer -- friday night lights shit, and i was in love with my high school boyfriend. it's funny when i think back to that relationship and realize that it was probably better than 86% of my relationships since. we loved each other unconditionally. when i was sick, he was sick. when i had a rash all over my body from a fever, he sat on the other end of the couch and scratched my legs. if that's not love, then i don't know what is. i'm not sure where i went wrong with my most recent relationship, but i definitely need to find people who know how to love and who have no hang-ups. i miss being sixteen. no i don't. that's actually the dumbest and most false thing i've said in at least 17 days.

i have no food in my pantry. i had a shake with blueberries and strawberries for breakfast, but i got hungry again so i had two pieces of bread with mustard. i have no cheese. i have no deli meat. i am basically a loser who needs to go shopping. i'm actually pretty impressed that i even have bread. i am starving.

some people copy sub-par women's magazines on their blogs, and that is not what i am going to do here. i have not yet decided what i'm going to do yet that sets me apart, but it will be fantastic. just wait. i just had a glass of scotch. what a joke. i am entering my 30th year tomorrow and i have to start off on a good note. i have exactly one year. i don't know what that means, but i have one year. L told me that i seem like a very patient person. this made me laugh, but perhaps over time, i have improved.

i am looking forward to eating some hella hot BBQ today.
god bless.

ditch plains

this is what fun looks like. jessie took this picture last fall in ithaca during apple harvest, but it pretty much sums up my evening.
only fitting that we went to a place called ditch plains. i had black bass and three maker's. i am feeling hopeful. i went to brunch this morning, followed by central park with a new friend. we sat on a rock and played the cube game. do you know what the cube game is? it doesn't matter, but basically it involves flowers, a horse, a ladder, and the weather. pretty psychological shit.

http://personal.ansir.com/cubegame.htm

anyway, i was excited because the game emphasized how much i love my friends. it also said that i have no ambition. my ladder was only a step-stool and it was made out of wood. apparently that is not a good thing. also, it was raining outside steadily. this means that it is raining outside of my window.

ha.

peanut butter eminems are great.