answer

Here's a more explicit clue.

Ta da! Yes that's the same yarn.  Such is the terribleness of cell phone pictures.

challenge

All right miss Tara, since you're so smart, can you tell what I'm making?

I'll give you a hint: I'm frickin' cold!

new blog

Hey everybody, my mom has a second blog.  Yes, it's still about Frenchy French stuff.  Give it a look-see.

http://yourfrenchlife.synthasite.com

guess what

I have a new old haircut.  Or an old new haircut.  Whatever.

This was a hard decision.  I didn't really have the money for a good haircut and what's the point of a bad haircut.  I mean, my hair already looked crappy.  Did I need it to look crappy and short? So out came the clippers.  I'm hoping that by the time my hair grows back I'll be able to afford a professional.  We'll see.  I was a little hesitant since I'll be seeing my mom soon for Thanksgiving and she always likes it when I actually have hair.  She thinks I look fine with a shaved head but of course likes hair more.  I wouldn't usually think that's such a big deal except for that since my mom now lives in France I haven't seen her for nearly a year and it'd be nice to be able to do little things to make her happy.  Oh well, I'd better knit her a hat or something to make up for it.  Get it? No hair=new hat.

Just this morning my last remaining client at the Pilates studio in Brooklyn told me today was going to be our last session, at least until his wife gets a new job or he gets a better one.  I was bummed because I've been working with him for about a year and half and he's great. I'm not totally freaking out about money right now but I might be soon.  But then I'll just be in the same boat as half the nation so nothing special there.

So here's the explanation of my last post.  I got the new antibiotics from the pharmacy and haven't had any negative reactions, at least none that I'm aware of.  But last Friday I decided to go to the dentist just to make sure that nothing was wrong with my teeth.  Lauren A. recommended the Ryan Center, which I must say was pretty great (thanks Lauren).  When I first walked in the front desk was a little snooty but I think they were just super busy.  The Ryan Center has a sliding scale fee which was great for me since I don't have a steady income.  The dentist took some x-rays of my jaw and told me that yep, I'll need to have a root canal done on my upper back molar and maybe even on the one next to it.  But his more immediate concern was the infected abscess in my mouth. I was aware of some swelling but I just figured my jaw was swollen from the sinus infection. He referred me to the emergency room at St. Luke's hospital which was about 20 blocks away.  I walked on up and was quickly sent to the dental department since they were closing soon. The surgeon numbed me up first then punctured and drained of the abscess of "quite a bit of puss." Awesome.  Let me tell you, the draining didn't hurt so much but getting that needle stuck in that swelling to numb it hurt like hell.  It was stuck in there for a good 10 seconds (I counted), twice! It really really hurt.

Anyway, the oral surgeon agreed that I would need a root canal or a tooth extraction.  He set up another appointment for me that's a week away in case I wanted to get it done there.  I think he could only extract my tooth and not do the root canal, it was a little unclear and I was a bit woozy. But he said I was welcome to cancel the appointment if I decided to go to Columbia, which is where the dentist at the Ryan Center referred me.

That was my day Friday.  And the best part: everyone was so nice!  Seriously.  The cashier desk at the Ryan Center was nice, the receptionist for the dentist was nice, the dental assistant and dentist were nice, the guy doing my intake at the emergency room guessed my last name was Danish and talked to me about how beautiful Denmark is, the woman filling out my info and income at the hospital chatted with me about the economy and our new president, the woman who took my x-rays at the hospital joked with me about my earrings because I couldn't take them out and they showed up on the x-ray and the oral surgeon was understanding about my wincing when plunging in that needle.  I was really amazed.  I could have had a supremely horrible experience but I didn't.  And I really believe it's because how great everyone was.  I think there might be a lesson here.

And does anyone know why the formatting of my posts is all wonky? See how the paragraphs of this post are all like single spaced but the ones in the post two down are like 1.5 or even double spaced?  What's up with that? Is it because I'm creating this one on my Mac with Safari Inconsistent formatting drives me nuts.

update

I have two words:

oral abscess

Two phrases:

root canal

tooth extraction

And one sentence:

What the f**k?

Details to come.

ongoing

If you were at my apartment last Sunday and thought I was acting a little strange there was a reason for it.  I had a bunch of ibuprofen and decongestants floating around in my body in an effort to counteract the intense pain all along the right side of my face.  And it probably seemed odd that I kept disappearing for minutes at a time.  Well, I was going into the bedroom and doing headstands, that helped the pain too.  I finally went to a doctor yesterday and she thought I probably have a sinus infection, or that something is terrible wrong with my teeth.  I can't believe how long I've been sick and then right when I think I'm better my face starts to feel like someone's crushing it from the inside.  I've been using my neti pot like 3 times a day which at first helped but now I don't notice a difference. Anyway, I got a prescription for antibiotics which I started taking last night but about two hours after taking the first one my face started to itch, then turn red.  Then the rest of my body also turned red and itched like hell.  Needless to say I didn't take the next dose this morning. I called the doctor's office and am now waiting for them to get back to me.  Either they'll call in a different prescription or I'll have to go back in and see someone again.  And all this pain has kept me from eating the delicious cake in the fridge!  Is life not unfair?!

super sneak

A little while ago my sister texted me Meet the Bear in Istanbul.  I didn't immediately know what that meant so didn't pay attention.  Later, while washing dishes, it ran through my head again and for a moment and I thought, Wait, what if Ida has really been a spy all these years and she's been attacked and sent me this special code that one of her allies will come asking for later but then they'll have to kill me so that the enemy doesn't get it.  She's sentenced me to death! How could she do this to me?! So I quickly sat down at my computer to blog about it.  Now you know too.  If I die in a "car crash" or "elevator mishap" it was no accident!  Avenge me!  Meet the Bear in Istanbul!

Okay, I know I was being crazy for a moment.  I thought that I would google the phrase and it would turn out to be some children's book or something but so far the only results I'm getting are for gay bath houses (particularly serving "bears") in Istanbul.  My first thought was true!  Avenge me!

I got her back though.  I responded Put a snap on the grouch bag! Let's see how long she lasts knowing that one.  Hah.

fame

There's a movie being shown on TV right now called The Little Vampire. (I first thought it was The Littlest Vampire, which really would be even worse.) No, I'm not actually watching it and no, I did not immediately know the title, I had to look it up.  The only reason I paused while flipping channels was because this character popped up.

It's Alice Krige; I had to look that up too. Why did I recognize her? And why did I have a good feeling about her? She's done something that in the past that I liked. What was it? Was it a recent appearance on Dirty, Sexy, Money? I guess I might have seen that. From her role on Deadwood? Hmm, I wasn't really into that show, everyone's smile was much too sparkling white to be living in the old West. Ahh, Children of Dune as Lady Jessica Atreides. That's more my style, that's probably

No, wait!  Aha, jackpot!

The Borg Queen in Star Trek: First Contact. Totally. She was awesome. And also: hot. I'd be pretty tempted to let her assimilate me.

Update: The Little Vampire is not making any sense, or it's just stupid, take your pick. I can't believe so many people worked on this movie. Also, the ending credits are to the song Iko Iko. Alice Krige, I promise to always remember you as a powerful Medusa-like cyborg and not as an aging aristocratic vampire.

Update 2: I'm still sick, which is why I'm watching terrible television.

dancy pants

Well, I'm sick again. I know, who's surprised? Blah.

But in other news: I just sent off an email to a New York ballet teacher asking if she offers private lessons. Many of you may be confused by this considering my turbulent past with ballet. Well, I was starting to think that maybe I hated ballet so much (not only because it's so stultifying) because I really never understood it very well. I was always just struggling through class, trying to keep up with these combinations that didn't make any sense. I feel like I only started to really get into my body when I started taking private Alexander Technique and private Pilates lessons so why do I keep thinking about group dance classes? Privates are the way to go! And maybe I'll actually learn that I hated ballet all those years for a pretty good reason, who knows? This might not even be a possibility. She may not offer private lessons or she may be prohibitively expensive. I mean, I don't have much of a job right now so what am I doing? But whatever.

Part of the reason I even sent that email is because I saw a dance performance last night at BAM with music by Steve Reich and choreography by Anne Teresa De Keersmaeker. I thought it was great. First of all, how awesome is Steve Reich? He totally confuses and excites me. There was one piece that was played by two people on two xylophones (I'm pretty sure they were xylophones, too small to be marimbas but bigger [and wooden] that what you might be imagining) and I could barely connect the music I was hearing to movement of the musicians' mallets. It was like they were silently striking the instruments and it just so happened that this cascade of music was happening at the same time. I love how at the beginning of a Reich piece I always feel confident. "Okay, I can hear the notes that I see him hitting, I'm following along pretty well." But then suddenly someone else joins in and I get totally lost. It's pretty fun. I was also in the mezzanine so that could have been affecting my vision but you know, the principle still remains.

Anyway, back to that email. Not only did I think the music was awesome, I also (gasp) thought the dancing was pretty good too. It looked fun (and hard), and I thought, you know, I miss dancing but I can't just go back to class, all that ever did was frustrate me. Hence: private lessons. I'll let you know if there's any progress. We'll see.

yesterday?

Did you watch the debate last night? Will you explain something to me because I really don't get it. When did nuclear energy become 'clean?' Have I just been totally in the dark and missed that someone actually found a way to reduce nuclear waste and then convert it into something that doesn't harm everything it touches? If so, that's awesome! Somehow though, I don't think that's happened. So when did it become 'clean?' When we finally acknowledged that we need to cut our dependence on oil and that nuclear energy won't harm the atmosphere? Does that actually make it clean? Are we now calling it clean out of desperation, ignoring how harmful it is to other aspects of the environment? Please fill me in.

(And as a side note, just because you might have been on a ship that had a nuclear reactor and nothing dangerous happened [like it exploding or something] does not mean that it was safe. I regularly drive home drunk and have not had one accident. So following that logic, driving drunk is safe.* Okay, I acknowledge that's a stupid analogy, but you get my point.)

*I do not drive while drunk. And if I ever did I sure wouldn't try to convince anyone that it was 'safe.' I just take the subway drunk, now that's safe, particularly when it's powered with its own nuclear reactor.

indecision

Remember that 1 resume I sent a while ago?  Well, I had an interview for that job (which went okay) and the Pilates coordinator said she would email me with her decision right after Labor Day.  This gym/studio was looking for a few different teachers and a friend of mine applied there too.  Well, my friend received a job offer by email the Wednesday after Labor Day and I waited, and waited, and waited and by the next Monday I still hadn't heard from the coordinator so I figured that was my answer.  Oh well, right?  I figured that that just meant that that wasn't the place for me and I moved on.  Except for last Friday night I received an email from the coordinator offering me a position if I was still interested.  Ah, what to do?!  I had already convinced myself that that wasn't the place for me but now there's the opportunity for me to work there.  Fuck.  I was supposed to go out to Fire Island this weekend and wouldn't have had internet access so I didn't respond right away, pretending (in my head) that I hadn't read the email and would get to it Monday evening (when I would have come back from the island, if I had gone).  I've been going back and forth over this and I finally just sent an email saying I've decided to pursue other teaching options.  At least I made a choice and now I'm done but it was still hard.  Was it the right decision?  I don't know.  How do you ever know if your decision is the best?  I'm not going to go into the pros and cons of my decision; I'm glad it's been made. Now I'll just have to accept the fact that that I can't change it even if I wanted to and move on from there.

wet t-shirt contest

I win!

I couldn't decide which picture was more ridiculous.  This is the result of running (not even jogging, running!) 3 avenues and 3 blocks in the rain to my subway stop yesterday.  I took off my shirt, wrung it out and got it back on right as the train pulled in.  I entertained the notion of doing the same to my pants but the thought of Isaac sneaking up on me with a disapproving shake of the head killed that idea.

When I went to Six Flags the other day I also wore a similar white shirt.  Isaac joked that I purposefully wore it with future thoughts of the log flume ride.  I believe this is the look he thinks I had in mind.  Look at those sexy nips!

heaving breaths

And nothing laurnj. Well, sort of nothing. I did go in for an interview for that job and taught a lesson to the woman running the Pilates program. She said she would let everyone know her decision after Labor Day. And I haven't heard from her yet. And it's totally after Labor Day. A friend of mine also applied for that job, which potentially could be great as they were looking for more than one hire and if we both worked there we could hang out.

This is my last week at my desk job! I only have three days left. Then my schedule will look something like this:


That's my entire schedule for all of next week. I mean, on one hand, Hooray! Look at all that free time! On the other hand, Yikes! I don't always do so well with lots of free time. And I won't be making any money. Hooray! I'm sure things will work out one way or another but looking ahead can be a bit scary. So I'm just going to stop doing it. Problem solved.

counting

1 resume sent. Mwa ha ha.

the end

I did it. I gave my notice at my desk job today. I've been working here nearly four years. It was my first job upon moving to New York and now I'll be leaving it. Talking to my boss was thankfully easy. I was nervous but not frightened. I think she realized exactly what was happening right when I called her and asked to meet with her later in the day. I did end up giving her an extra week of work and decided to not completely leave the company but leave myself open to working a day here and there. That might not happen but it's kind of nice to have it as an option.

When I told her I was leaving my boss surmised that I must have a lot lined up with Pilates. "Nope...but I'm hoping I will soon." Or else I won't be able to pay my rent. Or I might have to temp somewhere, which I've never done in my life but I know quite a few people who have/do and if they can do it so can I, right?

September 8, 2008.

can't stop

Have you visited Natalie Dee's website yet? It is awesome. I even put a link to it that says so. Really awesome. I love her humor. I was going to post a few examples but I would basically end up posting her entire site so you should just go to it yourself. Really. Awesome. Aren't you listening? Awesome!

GTCMS

I just discovered this on Hulu (even though I'm playing it through youtube, because Hulu has the hiccups). I of course clicked on it because of it's name but little did I know the wonder in store. Do I love it? Yes. Have I watched too many episodes and now have a slight headache? Yes. Will I watch a few more? Yes. Could it be considered a little offensive? Probably. (Don't worry, no work-inappropriate content, that I've discovered.) But each episode is only about 5 minutes so the hilarity and offensiveness fly by.

Here we go:



And I just found this, it's also a series:

escape from the MTA

Last night I headed out to a BBQ in Brooklyn thrown by Lauren and Zach J. It was great even though (or maybe particularly because) the only things I barbecued were marshmallows for s'mores.

I had a late start going out. At the last minute I had the brilliant idea of baking gingersnap cookies and insisted on using fresh ginger. Unfortunately all the recipes I found used dried ground ginger. I remembered making awesomely good fresh ginger gingersnaps once in Seattle and I was basically trying to relive that memory of baking ginger wafting through the house. I should have known better than to live in the past. The cookies turned out more like ginger cakes, no snap at all, and I threw them in the trash. Next time I'll spend a little more time looking for that fresh ginger recipe.

I ended up leaving my apartment, in the far north end of Manhattan, to travel way down to mid Brooklyn around 7:40PM. The trip took: 1 bus, 3 trains, 3 transfers and a few longs blocks of walking due to confusion (on my part) about what the hell was happening on the train lines this weekend. But strangely I didn't have to wait very long for any of the trains so the whole trip was relatively painless, I got a lot of reading done, and arrived at the J's around 9. Little did I know that the MTA had a sinister plan for my return trip. A plan to challenge my calm, carefree attitude.

The adventure began at 1AM when Tara and I left the party and caught the Q train back to Manhattan. I was planning on transferring to the A train at Times Square and braving the long stanky tunnel. But. After only a few short stops, while still in Brooklyn, we heard that two word phrase dreaded by all subway riders, "Last stop!" So we hiked through that stop's own long tunnel (though not nearly as stanky Times Square's) and luckily jumped on a N train moments before it left the station. Tara and I said a quick goodbye at 42nd street and I began walking up the stairs. But I changed my mind at the last minute. Why walk through that eerie tunnel when I can walk outside in the cool(ish) night air. And it seems like a shorter transfer over to the A when walking outside. So I headed to an out of the way entrance/exit near the Shuttle train. When I got closer I a small doubt formed which was confirmed when I saw that the turnstiles had been padlocked shut. What to do? Turn around and take a long (it seemed long at that time of the morning) walk to another exit, or go through the emergency exit? I mean, come on, people use the emergency exit all the time, I see them, so what would it hurt for me to use it this one time? Sure the alarm will go off but I'll be heading out into the night air in no time. So I pushed it open, ignored the piercing alarm, walked up a few stairs, turned the corner...and encountered a locked gate barring the stairs to the street. I stood shocked for a moment, quickly turned around and dashed back to the emergency exit reaching it just after it closed, locking me out (in). Uh oh. Now what? My mind emptied when I realized I had no idea what to do. But then I saw the help box near the exit and pressed the call button.

MTA employee: What's your emergency?
Me: Umm, I'm trapped at a subway entrance. I wasn't really thinking and walked through the emergency exit but the gate to the street is locked and now I can't go anywhere.
MTA employee: Where are you?
I described my location.MTA employee: Okay.

So I waited. And got a little nervous. What if they came to let me out and fined me? I don't have a lot in my bank right now and a fine is not in my budget. Planning my strategy, or lie I would use, I took my subway card out of my wallet, put it in my pocket and put my wallet in my bag. Then if they asked me for ID I could say I only brought my subway card and left my wallet at home to prevent myself from spending any money. Then they couldn't check the false name I'd be giving them.

(re: fooling aurthority with ridiculous stories. Many years ago I was driving a truck on the freeway filled with my belongings and couldn't see out the back. I was worried that I would either get pulled over for reckless driving or actually get in an accident. I convinced myself that the police officer would be lenient with me if s/he believed I had searing eye pain!, which was the cause of my bad driving/accident. To help convince myself of the validity of my story with no purpose I began pressing my hand against my left eye as if I really did have searing eye pain! I didn't get in an accident and wasn't pulled over. But my eye really did start to hurt.)

Anyway, that was my plan for the MTA employee. I also saw some construction workers a little ways away and considered calling out to them but didn't quite feel like explaining my situation to five joking, possibly grumpy guys at 2AM, so I stayed silent.

While waiting I went back to take another look at the gate to the streets and noticed there was an opening at the top of the gate about 2 feet wide spanning its width. I was pretty sure I would fit. So I smashed my bag into the top corner of the gate (I didn't want to risk it falling on the opposite side, aren't I smart?), put my foot on the bottom and hoisted myself to the top of the 7 foot bars. Then I began sliding my legs through. There wasn't much room so I couldn't really lower myself down but instead wedged my forearm in between the gate and the ceiling and kind of jumped/fell to the ground. Success! My hands were totally black, as was my bag, my triceps got scraped up and I later noticed that I had black all over the front of my shirt. But I was out! and before anyone found me. I walked over to the A train in my messy clothes being careful not to rub my eyes (because they itched, not because of searing eye pain!). I then patiently waited for the train, transferred at 168th for the bus (which happened to be the one that stops right outside my apartment, hooray) and walked in my door at 3AM. A quick scrub and tooth brushing later I was snuggled in bed, safe from the entrapments of the MTA, which really were partly (mostly?) my own fault.

The end.

I might have to add this to my list of feats of daring-do. I wish I had taken some pictures, but I didn't want to risk staying there any longer.

I'm happy.

I know. I never thought I would type that sentence either. But even more than that when Parfait asked me how I was yesterday I was brave enough to even say it out loud, "I'm happy." I've been debating whether or not to even type this post. It seems that happiness is usually the death of blogs, who wants to read about being happy? Apparently you do, since you're reading this. Or you don't, because you couldn't even get through the first three sentences.

It's kind of hard for me to admit being happy. I fear that the moment I say it I'll discover that I wasn't actually happy, just tricking myself into thinking so, and everything will come crashing down. Or that I'll ask myself why I'm happy and then become unhappy when I can't think of any specific reason to be happy. But now I think that's stupid. I don't have any reason to be happy, I just am and that's that.

But I can tell you what's aided me in not being unhappy.

This book:



Seriously. If I had a highlighter with me while reading I'd practically be highlighting the entire book. I was a little skeptical when I started it and it's only been like two weeks but really, it's powerful. Go buy it or ask to borrow it from me when I'm finished. But don't ask me to paraphrase, I've tried that and I suck at it.

And look at that. It's popular, by an New York Times best selling author, spiritual, part of Oprah's book club, all reasons why I would have avoided it or at least hid the fact that I was reading it. But now none of that matters.

New cupcake post.

but I would notice

I just received a reply to an email I sent out about a Pilates job posting. Unfortunately the studio owner couldn't open my resume attachment. This didn't particularly surprise me since I sent it as a PDF file and for some reason, a lot of people still don't know what those are. But here's where I got stupid. The first email I sent her was from my bodywork associated email address, which she replied to. The second email I sent her with the Word version of my resume was accidentally sent from my personal email address. Then after perusing my resume ('cause it's a totally a good idea to proofread after sending the file) I noticed that since I had updated an older version the email listed on it was a third address that doesn't even exist anymore. I really didn't need another reason to feel anxious about this.

But I can feel a little better with the knowledge that not all Pilates instructors have perfect language and/or organizational skills. This morning the owner of another studio I work at said 'irregardless.'

anxiety

I just got this email from the woman who owns the Pilates studio I work at on the UWS:

Hi ipj,
I would like to observe one of your Pilates sessions. Most/all of your clients would probably be amenable to a one-time viewing session, right?

Aaaah! I've already been kind of freaking out about Pilates and this doesn't help. I officially applied to another Pilates job yesterday (I had called and left a message 2 days ago then sent an email with my resume yesterday) and my self-confidence is pretty low. I been feeling a little inadequate lately in my teaching even though my clients seem to like our sessions. But then I sometimes end up thinking that they just don't know any better. Yesterday at the UWS studio I was talking to one of the other instructors and asked her about a few different exercises listed on a chart that's going to be put up in the Pilates room soon. I felt kind of silly asking about them since they're apparently part of the "classical" repertoire. When I first got the above email my immediate reaction was that this other instructor must have told the owner what I was asking because only an idiot with horrible training wouldn't know those exercises and that's why she wants to watch me because she wants to make sure her decision is correct before she fires me and THEN WHAT WILL I DO?!

Okay, I know that's really probably not what happened at all but I can't help thinking it. When I'm not the best I often assume that I must be the worst. I have a hard time with that in-between area where, really, almost everything happens.

The other problem is that I feel kind of guilty for not having observed more at that studio. As part of my apprenticeship I'm supposed to be observing the other instructors but I've only done like 3 hours in the 6 months I've been there. Wow. I never really thought about it before. That's pretty sad.

So:
overwhelming sense of guilt + lack of self-confidence = very frazzled ipj

I'm not a robot

And here's proof. I totally just cried at the end of the most recent episode of House...while at work. Luckily my coworkers never turned around from their computers.

serious thinking time

A coworker of mine forwarded me an article today by Bruce Bawer titled An Anatomy of Surrender. Here's a link to the article. I highly suggest you read it. The author discusses current disturbing acts of suppression concerning freedom of speech specifically related to writings or other works of art criticizing or even just discussing Islam in a "negative" light. I put quotations around negative because the use of that term depends on who you're talking to.

Following is an excerpt that really struck me.

Last year brought another cartoon crisis—this time over Swedish artist Lars Vilks’s drawings of Mohammed as a dog, which ambassadors from Muslim countries used as an excuse to demand speech limits in Sweden. CNN reporter Paula Newton suggested that perhaps “Vilks should have known better” because of the Jyllands-Posten incident—as if people who make art should naturally take their marching orders from people who make death threats.*

*bold font mine

Just yesterday Parfait and I were discussing how easily we've begun to give up our freedoms as a people. This article was thought provoking and I think that's exactly what we all need to be doing: thinking and questioning. We need to not be afraid to question what's happening around us, even if those questions may be upsetting to oneself or someone else. Does Islam support violence? If so, do we need to be "respectful" of that religion and therefore condone that violence? No. This is actually pretty hard for me to write about. I feel that there's a large part of my mind that's been conditioned to be accepting of another person's religious beliefs and I think that's how a lot of people think. But when that acceptance of a belief degrades into an acceptance of atrocious acts of violence we need to question what's supporting our passivity. Is it fear? Is it laziness? Or is it a feeling of helplessness? I can say for myself that it's definitely a combination of all three. I don't know what I can do, how I can do it or what the repercussions might be. Not just the repercussions for myself but for other people as well. Being raised in the Mormon religion has helped me realize the misunderstandings and prejudices that can result from lumping members of a faith together. Just became one Mormon believes something doesn't mean all Mormons believe it or that the Mormon faith even teaches it. The same applies to followers of any religion, including Muslims. But being extra careful to separate individuals from a group can also fail to acknowledge the principles or laws that a religion does in fact teach. Clearly, I don't know enough about Islam to be making many statements but I also know that the fear of not knowing enough and the fear of hurting the few individuals who might be an exception to the rule keeps me from making any statements.

After seeing an exhibit at El Museo del Barrio I told Parfait that I was envious of the artists' work we saw because they seemed like they actually believed in something and wanted to make a change. I told him I could never make art like that because I don't believe in anything. Upon further reflection I realized this was inaccurate. It's not that I don't care about anything (though when I'm depressed or really upset, as I was then, I literally do stop caring, and that's difficult) it's that I don't know what to do and I feel completely helpless and like I don't know anything so who am I too judge others? When there are so many unknown variables how can I make a strong statement, one that I truly believe in?

active voice

I just balanced my checkbook and am really really excited because I have so much money in my account! I haven't had this much money in a long long time. Maybe quitting my job won't totally freak me out financially. Things are going to be okay...

Except for that I just remembered I totally left out a big ol' payment. Oops, back to normality again. At least that high was fun while it lasted.

some things

I am a mess right now. I broke down crying last night for no clear reason (no single clear reason anyway) and I feel like I need to cry again. I'm just kind of freaking out about things and have become way too sensitive. I came into my desk job this morning to catch an education performance and happened to see my boss who said hello. But she said it in a way that made me think maybe she was mad at me. Then I spent most of the performance worrying that somebody at my job read this blog and told her I was thinking about quitting and she got mad for my not telling her myself. But then I tried calming down by reminding myself that I'm not doing anything bad or wrong by thinking about quitting. I've been thinking about quitting for nearly two years, it's just that now I'm a little more serious. Still though, I don't like feeling like I'm hiding something and though I'm not actually hiding anything my sense of guilt, even when it's imagined, can be pretty overwhelming. Hence the crying and anxiety.

Also, I told Parfait that we should move in together. We're going to talk about it.

Also, the weather is all faccacted (how am I supposed to spell that, I don't even care enough to figure it out) and that's probably not helping.

Whew. Right now I'm pretty much wasting time at my job even though I'm not even scheduled to be here. I need to go to the bank and should probably get some food before I have to go teach but really, I just need some safety right now. I'd like to go somewhere and knit but it's pretty rainy outside so that's probably not going to happen. After crying last night I sat up, grabbed some needles, frogged my work because I thought of a better way to go and started over. I was knitting almost frantically and might have worried Parfait. But it really did help calm me down. And the rows looked pretty good so no harm done.

A note on the new format: I was thinking about going over to Wordpress but after actually creating a new blog over there, transferring all my old posts and spending nearly an hour and a half trying to manipulate one of their themes to my liking I decided Blogger handled personal touches better. Wordpress might have some better themes but it's seems much harder to sneak in your own html code and I finally gave up. So I started playing with a new theme on Blogger instead. It's still a work in progress. I mean, there's not a whole lot I can do but at least I can do something.

I don't like libraries anyway

Except that I do. And I tried to keep them open. At first this game was fun but ultimately it left me downtrodden. It pretty much accurately reflects any actual ability I may have related to politics. I utterly failed. How did you do?

maybe probably

I'm all jittery today and I'm not sure what to do to calm down. Actually, that's totally a lie, I know exactly what I should be do. I should write some sort of Pilates resume because...I most likely probably almost positively am going to quick my day job. Yikes. It just feels like it's time. I've been here for nearly 3 years and while it has given me a lot of time to knit I'm really starting to feel the drain on my soul. Of course, last night when I told Parfait he started asking me if I had any sort of action plan for the future after I quit and duh, of course not, I was planning on using quitting to get my ass in action (but not get action for my ass, I've been down that road) and find more Pilates teaching opportunities. I also think the time might have come to lie but I haven't decided yet. I'm still not completely certified yet but seriously it's taking me forever and if I can just start teaching more I'll be certified in no time. So should I just say I'm certified to get a job then make it true after the fact? I don't know, I really don't like lying but I also don't like my current job. What to do, what to do? Thank goodness I have a stripey purple hat I'm working on to clear my mind. That, and this great video my sister sent me. Thanks sis. I've watched this so many times. These girls are great, not just because they're a little bonkers but because their choreography is awesome and they are committed. Enjoy.

fantasy or reality

The other day I decided to take a short walk up to Columbus Circle after work. It had been a long day and I needed some time to clear my brain. I walked a few avenues west to get away from the crowds and picked up a little Red Mango on the way, which is awesome bye the bye and I can't stop eating it, except for now, because I'm sick. Anyway, I was walking along basically in my own world thinking my self-involved thoughts when I saw this guy walking toward me and we made eye contact, significant eye contact. No, not all flirty, more like, "I think we might know each other." I had just a few seconds to decide if I should say something but I missed the opportunity as we passed each other. Then a little bit of crazy began:

Did I know that guy? Where would I have met him? Is he a friend of Parfait's? Is he a techie that I met when I still did stagehand stuff? Was it rude that I didn't say anything? Clearly I don't know him very well. I should have just said hello and kept walking. That's nice and non-committal. That way, if I do vaguely know him I'll seem like a nice guy and if I don't I'll still just seem like a nice guy. Damn, why didn't I say hello? Where would I know that guy? He doesn't look like anyone I would usually be hanging out with. Uh oh, is he on television? Am I starting to confuse my own reality with reality tv? Oooerrrm, maybe it's a good thing I didn't say hello. But no, I must know him. Aaagh! Who is he?!

It was only later on the subway that I realized who he was:


Kevin from season 4 of Project Runway. Turns out I am a little crazy, I do watch too much tv, I do need to get out more and I don't know him. And I can't say I'm sorry.

So most of you know I don't really like my apartment, mostly because of my crappy roommates. But also because I never get to bake, also mostly because of my crappy roommates. Seriously, I used to bake all the time. When I lived in Seattle I had pies and cookies comin' out like every week or so, even a special glass pie one time. But since I've lived in New York the only thing I can remember baking is a cake for that guy who shall not be named who I sort of dated, and he didn't even really like it. One more reason why he's a bastard. But now I'm basically living with Parfait and finally, after months of not having any, the gas in his apartment has been reconnected. I've already baked like 4 batches of cookies in the past two weeks. And last night I decided to make some blueberry muffins. Oh man, I love blueberry muffins. I used to make them all the time when I was a kid but I haven't made any since I was in college. I was so excited. They finished baking around 9PM and I pretty much ate them for dinner. And it was glorious. The tops were so crusty and fluffy. I want one right now. Parfait only ate one, he has some restraint, but not me! While unwrapping my third he suddenly shouted, Stop! I thought he was going to reprimand me for being such a piggy but no. I get to eat the top. What?! No. I turned around and gave him the look of death. We ended up sharing, ugh. The lesson, don't get between me and my baked goods.

grandpa was right

I'm cat sitting for a certain blogger this weekend while she and her hubby are off on vacaneymoon, which is really just vacation and not a honeymoon at all but I like saying vacaneymoon. I was pretty good about bringing supplies to their apartment but felt guilty about taking the only toothpaste out of my boyfriend's apartment. (Even though it's my special cavity fighting toothpaste that I order online. I've basically been living at his place for a couple of months so I probably shouldn't suddenly just steal the toothpaste we've been sharing.) But my lazy ass has been, well, too lazy to go out and buy more toothpaste just so I can use it while cat sitting. So I've decided to embrace my heritage and brush my teeth like my ancestors did, with good old fashioned Arm & Hammer baking soda. Awesome. I sprinkle some on my great Sonicare (at least I remembered that, I'm not going to go crazy nostalgic and start using my finger or anything) then take little breaks to sprinkle more on throughout the process. And you know what, my teeth feel fine, pretty much the same in fact. I do wish I had some mouthwash to finish up with but otherwise I can't really tell the difference. So will I be making a switch once I'm done cat sitting? I don't know. Maybe I'll try a homemade salt scrub for my teeth later. I mean, what's good for your skin is good for your teeth, right?

In other news, I slightly change my hairstyle the other day and shocked my coworkers enough that they demanded a picture. So I'll share it with you.



Yeah. My teeth are so clean and sexy my lips can hardly touch them. I've since gone back to the old flat hair bed head look because I feel like it better hides the fact that I really need a hair cut.

it really really is

Have you been thinking along these lines lately?

-I see too much interesting art. I need a balance of crap.
-If I had a child, what would I ban him/her from watching?
-I'm too smart. How can I destroy some brain cells?

Do I have the video for you! Watch it and cry as your faith in humanity slips away. I present the aptly named Stupid Shit, and believe me, it is.


Did you watch it? Wasn't that amazing?! Did you start thinking that it couldn't get any worse...and then they stripped?! And one girl put on headphones for some reason? Now that's some stupid shit. I seriously can't stop watching this it pains me so, and I'm a sucker for pain.

Here's proof that gay couples (male ones anyway) can be just as trite and bland as any straight one. I couldn't even finish this article, I was so annoyed after reading just the first page. I know it's completely not fair of me to judge the entire article when I haven't finished it but seriously, I just can't do it. I can't even be bothered to write this post very well. Related and unrelated, I'm sick of this ridiculous and sexist divide between homosexual men and women. I'm sick of gay men who in their attitudes are basically elitist misogynistic straight men. I always thought that gays would be sensitive to prejudices because they've been subjected to others' but no, that's not always the case. Clearly, this is stemming from many other things since this little rant isn't directly related to the article above but I've just been thinking about it a lot. Really I should write out something a little more thoughtful and clear but right now, this is what I have.

a few things

First up. here's an excerpt from an email my sister sent me the other day:

...I think maybe you should JOIN FACEBOOK* because I just did and it's much handier than I thought...

*capitalization hers

Wha?! How could she have succumbed? And how could she suggest something so preposterous? I don't know why I'm resisting Facebook but it might have something to do with it's STUPID and before quitting myspace I think I had like a total of 7 friends. I don't need to relive that shaming disappointment. That said, I probably will join one of these days, you know, to keep things hypocritical. Also, I never responded to that email so here you go sis!

Second, I think I might have a stomach parasite. Or at least, my doctor thinks I might have a stomach parasite. I'm taking two different kinds of meds 3x a day until next Tuesday. Isn't that awesome? Where did it come from? How did I get it? Why am I so tired? My mouth tastes like icky metal.

Third, I meant to post this a while ago. I really love Muppets; I'm glad The Muppet Show seasons are slowly being released on DVD. They always make me happy...and maybe a little talent-envy.



Fourth and last, there'll be a new cupcake post coming soon. As soon as a certain sister mentioned earlier gets off Facebook and emails me the pictures we took. Or she might actually be busy taking care of her baby. Whatever. But here's a preview.

Baby and cupcakes. A good time was had by all.

delayed

I went to Seattle a few weeks ago for a fundraiser I in which I was participating. As a bonus I got to visit my family, which was great even though I didn't get to spend nearly as much time with them as I would have liked. Still, it was a free plane ticket so I feel like I can't really complain. So Seattle. Maybe I was seeing everything through vacation eyes but it was pretty wonderful there. Yes, it was a little rainy and damp but you know what, people there were pretty nice. Every server we had, while not necessarily extraordinary, was better than any one I can think of in New York. One server brought us free dessert when we thought there was a strange taste in two of the clams we'd ordered (no, I didn't eat any). And she was really apologetic and concerned about it, sincerely so, seemingly anyway. And the driver for the car service we took back to the airport brought us coffee that he'd purchased before picking us up. That was pretty nice. Unfortunately we didn't want any but still.

I was talking to a friend of mine about this. She looked at me and said, "Are you trying to tell me you're moving back to Seattle?" No, I'm not. I liked/like it there but it's not the city for me right now.

But here's what's making it really hard. Cute sweet Nora (with her dadoo and his fake smile).

I've got baby fever (but only for one baby).

And here's a video I took with my cell phone. If you didn't know before that I'm gay this should clear up any misconceptions. The file on my phone was too big to send so I had to trim it down a bit. I hope you appreciate it because when trimming it I accidentally erased the rest of the video so now I've lost 23 extra seconds of my awesome niece. Why does life do this to me? Give me back my baby!!!

And here's a Seattle (unrated) cupcake. It was okay.

not quite national health care

Okay, I'm going to preface this by saying I haven't really been following the recent news on this issue so I don't know exactly how things have been going but I'm having a hard time imagining the events that would lead to this result.

This morning's news announcer briefly stated that families of the victims of the Virgina Tech shooting were receiving compensation in the amount of $11.8 million and agreed not to sue the state (or the money was part of the agreement not to sue the state, I can't remember). Now, I'm sorry for those families. That's a terrible way to lose someone close to you BUT the state should not be giving them money AND they have no reason to sue. If there were any reason for the government to give them money it should be for burial costs or grief counseling, though I can't say I even agree with that. I'm not going to say 'these things happen.' They do, clearly and they're awful, obviously but I don't understand how the state is to blame and how the families deserve compensation. Is it that the school failed to provide secure centers for the students? Should metal detectors have been installed in every building? Should the campus have been a walled compound, strictly controlling entry? Do prospective students need to start signing liability waivers? I just read that part of the settlement will go toward supporting talks between the families, the governor and school authorities and this I think makes sense. It just seems strange that the state is compensating these particular families who were involved in a news covered event but not other families who might have also experienced a more personal tragedy not voiced to the world. I think part of the argument is that students weren't immediately told that the first shooting had happened and thus didn't have the opportunity to protect themselves. Maybe this money could be used to enhance communication in the school, sending out email announcements, texting students or whatnot instead of offering a monetary bandage.

what a mess

Before a Pilates session the other day I was discussing my awesome new niece, Nora, with my 36 year old female client. I was describing how Nora is so much more aware now and has started laughing and is generally overwhelmingly adorable and my client said, "I'm not really a kid person but every time I see a baby laugh I feel like my uterus is going to explode."

I think we reached a new level in the teacher/client relationship.

my eyes hurt

And I'm pretty sure it's from the giant cookie I just ate. My body seems to be particularly susceptible to sugar lately. I'll be feeling fine but as soon as I eat something sweet I almost immediately start to feel like I'm getting a cold. Maybe I'm on overload and my body is trying to tell me something. This has happened before and I find the reaction time of the body fascinating.

I'm at work and had to take a little break (from knitting). I'm working, and have been working, on a scarf for Parfait to match the two hats I made him. I've been going with this kind of patchworky type thing and I can't tell if it's working out or not.

Here's the part I'm currently working on

And here's why I had to take a break


There are three different skeins I'm working with with a total of five lines coming off this damn scarf. It's a mess back there and I get frustrated easily.

Last night I went to see Kevin Augustine's Bride at PS122. I thought it was great and if you're around, go see it, tickets are only like $20 or something. It's so wonderful to see someone who obviously has a great love for their art form. There are cool and somewhat creepy puppets involved (including puppet dancing) and it's clear that he's really into what he does. There was obviously so much thought and work put into this production. When it first began there were quite a few questionable elements and I thought, "Oh god, this could be awful...or it could be great." By the middle of it I realized that the beginning totally made sense and appreciated it much more. I thought the ideas presented were interesting and while they didn't bowl me over, they were still clever and creative.

And in other news, I made Rice Kr*spie treats at work the other day...and again on Saturday. I saw a sickeningly sweet ad for them that morning on TV with a laughing family around the mixing bowl then found myself craving them a few hours later. Damn advertising, you caught me again! So I went over to a grocery store on my lunch break and bought the ingredients. But not before checking the office kitchen to make sure I had the proper tools. I melted the butter and marshmallows in the microwave then ended up using two giant plastic salad tongs to basically "toss" in the cereal. The salad tongs actually worked amazing well. The best part of the story is that as I was microwaving the butter the Senior Vice President, the Vice President of Operations and the Director of Operations (who work either on a different floor or in an entirely different building) walked into my floor's conference room, right across from the kitchen. I could hear them talking about the interior of the floor and kept hoping that they wouldn't walk into the kitchen. I quickly shoved the marshmallows and cereal (which I had measured into a water pitcher) over right next to the fridge so that they wouldn't be able to see them unless they walked all the way into the room. Then I just stood there looking at the microwave, pretending I was on my lunch break waiting for my food to get hot. They did end up poking their heads in but only their heads so thank god they couldn't see my stash or what I had in the microwave. Yes, technically I was on my lunch break but I still think it would look pretty unprofessional for the VP to catch me making a children's snack, no matter how cherished the memory.

for shame

I feel like a few select people might chastise me for this but...

Guess who came to the show at the theater tonight: Ryan Gosling.
Guess who didn't quite place the name when selling him tickets over the phone: me. As a result, I didn't tell anyone he was coming and the people in the box office were taken by surprise when he came to pick up his tickets. Honestly, I just figured it was someone with the name Ryan Gosling. Come on, that's not that unusual a name. I treated him like any patron, including getting his mailing address and phone number. And that's that.

my turn

Okay, I've been resisting doing this since I've fared so poorly at guessing everyone else's quotes but I'm bored at work and I don't feel like reading or knitting. tarak tagged me for this whole 15 quotes from your favorite movies, well, turns out my favorite movies don't have very good quotes listed on imdb.com. Also, a lot of my favorite movies are foreign and I don't trust whatever translation imdb was using. Or something like this kept happening:

You're staying home, the sun is shining, but it's raining.

Anyone? It's from Akira Kurosawa's Dreams. I love that movie but there's not a lot of talking. So I finally gave up on my favorite movies and decided to only concentrate on my favorite children's movies, even though they're not just for kids, 'cause I still love them today. So that's your clue. And I've only listed 10, this was starting to get tiring.

1. What? Never had gemstones in your craw?

2. Nothing? NOTHING? Nothing, tra la la?

3. Well, it's kind of hard to describe. It's like being next to a new loaf of bread.

4. Oh yes mustard! That'll do... Mustard?! Don't let's be silly.

5. Mouldy mildew, mother of mouthmuck, dangle and strangle and death.

6. Attacked by Christmas toys? That's strange, that's the second toy complaint we've had.

7. You who swallowed a falling star, o' heartless man, your heart shall soon be mine.

8. He has to give me a new name. He's already chosen it. He just has to call it out.

9. Lady H******, was it you who screamed 'AIEEE!?'

And finally, because I was running out of children's movies I threw in a sci-fi.

10. The spice must flow.

100

hours completed. Only 150 more to go before I'm certified as a Pilates Apparatus Instructor or something. I don't even know what I'll get to call myself then. It's probably going to take me another 6-7 months, judging by the rate I've going. I guess that's fine.

I'm not too in the mood to blog right now but here I am anyway. In fact, I'd rather be knitting. So I'm just going to say I:

• went to a good play
• am going to a questionable musical tonight
• am co-hosting a Star Wars related shin-dig
• will be seeing a puppetry related show soon
• spent a lot of money on books on Pilates
• spent a lot of money on the government (in the form of taxes)
• got worried about taxes for 2008
• upset Parfait
• had a long talk with Parfait
• called my mother for her birthday
• took hideous pictures of myself that I won't be posting
• took a picture of my giant mysterious bruise that I will be posting
• took a picture of myself exemplifying my lack of self control

How did this happen?!


The chocolate abortion eggies are back! We (my officemates and I) have been eating them like crazy for a week already. The other day I was being silly and started shoving a bunch of them in my mouth. After stuffing about 7 of them in there tarak looked at me and said, in her best cockney accent:
"The rain in Spain stays mainly on the plain."

Unfortunately this pic just makes it kind of look like my vomit consists of chocolate eggs. That's not so bad considering I shit Mississippi Mud pies.

And finally, after many boring tries, I took this picture and secretly put it as the desktop on Parfait's Blackberry.

Faith thinks I look like an angel, Isaac thinks I look dead inside. I think he means soulful.

Monday-ish

I know I promised to write about Hot Nude Yoga on Monday and it's now Friday but I've been busy. I just bought this book


and this one


and probably this one


and a bunch of yarn (was bought for me). So I'm itching for some knitting. Also, yesterday at the end of a Pilates session I told my client that I really liked his socks. He told me his aunt knit them for him and that she's apparently part of a bunch of knitting guilds in New York. I told him that I knit at which point he offered to give me his aunt's phone number. He said it totally wouldn't be weird for me to call her. So I'm gonna.

So. Hot Nude Yoga is literally the title of the place, not just a description of the classes. And yes, it was nude, it was yoga, but it wasn't all that hot. It definitely wasn't sexy, which isn't the point. The "hot" apparently refers to the temperature in the room and while there were two space heater revolving I wouldn't ever describe the room as hot. It was pleasant but I was ready to sweat. I was expecting some Bikram type heat, I wanted to sweat. But no.

Anyway, I arrived and decided to walk up to the fourth floor to the studio. On the way I kind of started thinking about something else and lost track of what floor I was on. I thought I'd come to the right door but wasn't sure so I went up one more flight of stairs and came upon the roof door. So I went back down and called the elevator, pressed the 4th floor button when I got on and waited. The elevator didn't go anywhere so I figured I must be on the fourth floor so went back out and gingerly tried the door (there's only 1 door per floor). It was locked. Okay. Down I went one flight and tried that door. It opened into the studio. I don't know how I got mixed up. As I walked in there was a wall right in front blocking off the majority of the studio. In front of the wall was a small space with places for shoes and bags (and clothes, of course). I was greeted by a man who asked me my name and if I had ever been there before. I told him no as I pulled out my yoga mat. He remarked that I must have done a lot of yoga though because my mat was so well worn. (My roommate gave it to me a while ago because it was old and she was just going to throw it away, it totally has pressed in dirt from probably years of downward dog.) I laughed and told him that I'd actually never taken an official yoga class but I used the mat for Pilates. As we were speaking a completely naked man walked out from behind the wall, retrieved a water bottle from his bag and returned from whence he came.

So I stripped down, grabbed my water (coconut), towel, crappy mat and walked around the wall. There were five naked men sitting on yoga mats, a couple were talking. I walked over, spread out my mat and sat down. A few minutes later the instructor (who was the same guy who greeted me at the door) came in, also nude, and introduced himself. Then I took class. There's really not that much to tell, even all the stuff before this I've really tried to flesh out and make interesting. I never felt turned on at all and actually quite enjoyed taking class nude. I was slightly self-conscious at first but after a while it just didn't enter my head anymore that I was nekkid. And we even did a lot of partner work. There was even some butts pressing against each other while we did some bent over work. But really, no big deal. I'll say I actually was a little nervous about the possibility of getting hard in class and their website even addresses that but the atmosphere was completely non-sexual (this was also at 7:30AM).

I took another class Wednesday night. This one was for beginners but I didn't enjoy it as much. There were more people and more philosophy was inserted into class. I have a hard time with a lot of yoga philosophy because it often starts to sound like religion and I just can't get behind that. I'd rather use yoga as a way to open up my muscles and body rather than as a way of living. Maybe that will change some day, who can say? For now, if I continue, I'll use the classes as time to apply principles I'm learning in my Alexander Technique lessons.

So that's it. Not too exciting huh? I'm sorry. If anything exciting/crazy happens I'll write about it but I don't know if I'll go back or not. Each class is $20! I don't know if it's worth the extra $5-$8 just to take my clothes off.

hot. nude. yoga.

I think the title says it all. But I'll elaborate on Monday.

you say love, I say performance art*

I became a member of PS 122 at the Stage Manager level today. I initially went over to their website to buy 2 tickets to this but since those tickets were $20 each and the lowest membership was just $60 which would give me two free tickets and a year subscription to Time Out New York and discounts on other upcoming shows I figured I should just join. Of course, I actually ended up joining at the next highest level so that I could get the member discount on two tickets per show (instead of just 1) and because I like PS 122 even though I've only been to one performance there with my dad, which we thought was terrible and had us both making snarky comments throughout (that's partly where I get it). So I guess what I really mean is that I like the idea of PS 122, so I might as well support them. Plus, I'm hoping that by joining I'll go to more stuff, so as to get the full benefit of my membership. So if you want to go to something there and don't want to pay their outrageous ticket prices ($20 for a ticket?! Unbelievable! I could see 1/17th of a Broadway show for that!) let me know and we can go together with my discount. Woot.

By the by, I bought the tickets as a Valentine's Day surprise for Parfait. Originally I told him the surprise was going to be more funny-awkward than exciting (I almost scored some free tickets to Legally Blonde) but since that fell through I guess I'll just have to settle for disturbing. Dark puppetry screams Valentine's doesn't it? And the performance is in March. Surprise!

And why the fuck hasn't spellcheck worked on blogger for like, a week?

*Please don't misinterpret this. I am not in love. Besides, you're the one saying it.

sugar rush

New cupcake post here. We've been to 14 places! I have one more post to put up before I'm caught up.

sigh

I think I need to go back into therapy. I know I've said that before and I keep considering it but then life seems to be okay, until I actually start to think about it.

thus:

ipj and Isaac are having an animated discussion about sex, love, intimacy and anything else that pops up.

ipj: I'm never going to love anyone.
Isaac: God. You sound like a 7 year old boy pouting in his room. (arms folded) "I'm nevah gonna wuv anyone!"
ipj: I know!
Isaac: Then grow up!!
ipj: I don't know how!!!

hat(wo)

Another hat with bunny fur. I made this one for Parfait, he bought the yarn 'cause that shit is esspensive. Louise took the pictures with her spectacular IPhone. I made the design, with some misgivings as to the end result but I think it turned out okay.


Created with Admarket's flickrSLiDR.

more & more

Let's get this out of the way. I've been spending the last way too long trying to figure out how to embed a frickin' slideshow on my blog. I was able to easily create one through G**gle but the options it gave me combined with the layout of my blog made all the pictures either too tiny or cropped off at the side. So then I started searching around for other stuff and tried out F**ckr (which is not as user friendly as G**gle, let me tell you) but with that you can only create this lame-o badge thing. So then I did some more searching and found flickrSLIDR, which I actually will name because it worked. God, the whole process really gave me a headache (except for the SLIDR part, that was totally easy). Or maybe I just need to eat.

Now that that's done with, don't you want some more cute baby? I knew it! She's so awesome!


Created with Admarket's flickrSLiDR.

In that last photo I'm mimicking Nora's scowly face. No conscious muscle control!

formal

I can't believe I forgot but guess what else happened during my trip to Seattle?

I got/was given one of these:

How could I have forgotten?!

Click on it.

thank god for camera phones

It's been awhile, but I have a good reason: I've been visiting a baby! (And the rest of my family. [And I'm lazy.]) I really never thought I would be baby crazy but I am! She is so amazing. I even held her, willingly. And every time I went over to my sister's I kept asking to hold her. Did you know that babies are like nature's blanket? They're so warm. But I must say, while I think this kid is awesomely amazing and amazingly awesome, I'm still not that interested in other people's kids. Sorry. I just don't find babies that fascinating, unless they're related to me and are frickin' adorable. There definitely are exceptions (like for a lil' boy named Zach or a girl named Yuki, who I don't at all) but this is a pretty general rule. That being said I never really enjoyed random baby videos but here are some for you.

My niece Nora.

This one is pretty cute.


So is this one.


But this is my favorite.


During one of my visits, my sister and I sang Nora a little lullaby that may or may not have been lovingly lifted from one of our favorite childhood (and adulthood) movies. On my flight back to New York I paused in my knitting (making another hat, but sadly not for Nora), thought of Nora, started singing the lullaby and promptly began crying. My stay was much too short. Then I finished reading The View from Saturday by E.L. Konigsburg and cried some more. Then a little later I started thinking about how great her parents are and how they have lots of great friends and how awesome her relatives are and how she's going to grow up surrounded by so much love and the next thing I knew my eyes were once again watering.

And you know what else? She smells pretty good too. She's beautiful, even if she does have baby acne, which I never knew almost all babies got, did you?

So.



I couldn't decide.

questions

What could make two jaded grumpuses turn ecstatic?



Is the cameraperson holding a puppy (paying homage to a previous photo shoot)?

Are we really drunk?

Really high?

So in love with primary colors?

Faking it so there's some sort of documentation of us being happy?

Who knows.