ventilation

i'm stealing content from naomi because she sent this email that struck me as a perfect blog piece, yet she didn't post it on her blog. fair game.
naomi: "You know something is wrong when four teenage boys stop to tell you your pants are ripped and you find out your thong-clad hinie is hanging out on marlow road."

me: at least your thong clad hinie works out at the gym five days a week.

what not to say to your professor

the reason the paragraph below is written with capitals is that I originally wrote it in response to a study question for my torturous philosophy class. i came to my senses, however, deciding that perhaps this kind of whining would be more appropriate on my blog rather than sent to mr. phd instructor/degree advisor. i swapped it out with something more along the lines of the class reading. you know, your typical, "and that is as close as we will come to understanding the mind of god." kind of stuff.

Question #4

Say something smart about blah blah blah.....

"I don’t think I’m grasping this at all. Sometimes when I’m reading and trying to understand these texts I feel like I’m 7 years old, playing the game ‘Sox’, in which one friend would sit blindfolded in a darkened room, on the bed, with an arsenal of balled up socks. The other friend would enter the room, and after 10 seconds, the blindfolded one would start hurling the socks in the direction of the other, in hopes of striking the elusive, obscured figure. Usually to no avail. "


very good kitty joe. A+ for effort.  

by the way, that game was totally fun.  yet totally terrifying.

you know you're turkish (or just my boyfriend) when....

you can differentiate between black, white, red, green and yellow ground pepper in a dish.
and you have a strong opinion about it.

could she really be a year old?

the most sweet-natured baby on the planet turns one today. in honor of little niece miss rorykins lets all stop whining and put a cute smile on our faces.

and with the 'rents...

twilight from the oakland hills

what the hell is this? click on any photo to enlarge...

totally uncool

thinking i'm all earth friendly, hitting the farmer's market at mc carren park with my own canvas bag for veggies. then i realize i'm walking into an early earth day celebration carrying a styrofoam cup of coffee from star deli. totally uncool.

but can i just say that, apart from the occasional patronage of a polish deli that gives me a 65 cent cup of coffee in a styrofoam cup, and, i don't know, my general destructive presence in this modern world, i'm pretty environmentally conscious, and always have been. i am from california after all, a former member of the analy environmental club (which consisted of little more than the five of us interrupting classes once a week--especially the ones we knew our crushes were attending--to empty the paper recycling bins we'd planted). those are some serious credentials, no? so can i just say that the sudden hipness of green, while being great and fantastic--everyone should be aware--is irking me. can i say that? the part that's irking me is the commercialization of green. not the proliferation of green solutions or products, but the showing off of 'green' in window displays somewhere like bloomingdale's, who couldn't give a crap about environmentalism for anything other than a marketing tool. that's what it is. i'm really annoyed by the often wasteful and insincere marketing of green.

and here i intended this post to be a two sentence chuckle inducing blurb. i must be procrastinating a paper!

even emre liked it.

Presented by Invisible LLC
Sanford Meisner Theater
164 11th Avenue
New York, NY 10011
Theatermania.com (866) 811-4111

April 3-27th
Thursday - Sunday All Performances 8pm
Tickets $18

don't you think it's time for a non-political endorsement?
well i do. 'cause i went to see my friend sara, aka elizabeth steinhart, kick ass in this play 'the secret rapture'. you know you're cool when you have friends with stage names! i'm not going to pretend i know anything about theater. in fact, that is specifically why i'm recommending this play to you. this play did not give me the 'pretentious theater hives'. this play did not cause my eyes to roll nor my mouth to drool or yawn. this play made me laugh, brought intense feelings of sadness, empathy and discomfort (the well-earned, good kind of discomfort) to my skeptical, not-very-often-theater going soul.




the cool thing is, i already knew it would, see because sara is a really cool chick and so is her boyfriend jay (who probably doesn't even mind if i call him a really cool chick). jay's play, 'i wish you a boat'--probably the last play i attended before 'rapture', also rocked my world. in this play jay actually coaxed tears from my jaded eyes. impressive. loved it. love them. trust them.


behold, the beautiful and talented elizabeth steinhart (photographed by my other talented friend, jason watson)

yet even with this trust, i was happily surprised at how much i enjoyed 'the secret rapture'. the whole cast impressed me. each and every one. as did the writing, which was witty, often times hilarious, and most important to me, real and relatable.
details are above and below.
go.
do something different.
even if you don't know her.
it's that good.
bravo sara.

oh, and i had another one of those 'secret life of butlers' moments, as i was completely blown away by zach's performance as well. bravo zach.

with Zachary Fletcher, Jacob Grigolia*,
Miranda Jonte, Mia Moreland, Christian
Sineath, Elizabeth Steinhart*

Directed by Jessica Forsythe
Lighting and Sound Design by Randy Harmon
Assistant Directed by Stephanie Staes
Handwriting by Sabrina Ward Harrison
Photograph by Melanie Schiff (entitled Anna3)
*This is an Equity Approved Showcase

warning: senseless ranting

today i got a nice little card in the mail from victoria's secret. how nice. they're giving me a gift.
come in and redeem your free panty they say.
panty.
i take offense to this word. panty.
especially in the singular form--it's so skeevy. panties is gross and prissy still. but panty? seriously? i imagine threadbare jockey underware double the size of my head. dull peach.
since when is panty a victoria's secret kind of word? since when does panty make you feel sexy? hey babe, i just got a new panty at victoria's secret--don't you want me now?

some words should just be banished from our vocabulary on the grounds of the shivers they send up my spine. panty, you can go take a hike in the woods and get lost! and you know what? take spore with you too.

let's think of birthdays, not taxes!

happy birthday to mieke! like so many of my friends, mieke turns 30 this year. it deludes me into thinking i also just turned thirty. three years is practically the blink of an eye, no?
mieke is actually in belgium now, celebrating. in my tradition of taking full credit for her relationship, as i introduced her to her fiance (yes, i know, you've heard it before, but i can't stop braggging!) i can also claim some rights for this surprise birthday gift from ezra. gee, isn't it nice that the man that i introduced you to suprised you with a trip back home for your thirtieth? i sure picked a good one.

but doesn't it seem like i just wished mieke a happy birthday here? where does the time go? a look back at the archive confirms that yes, it was a year ago! which brings me to another birthday--that of this mighty blog! a year and a couple days ago (april 12), i begrudgingly posted a photograph in lieu of emailing it to share with my sister, and insisted this was not a commitment to blog. one hundred forty five posts later, i've made good on that non-commitment. and boy is the world a better place for it!

but back to mieke--so much has changed since last year! sadly, i said goodbye to her as my neighbor (but drag her out here as much as i can for nostalgic brunches), but for the exciting reason that she decamped to the upper east side with (and got engaged!) to ezra. she also co-founded the manhattan chapter of ambassadors for children with barbara. not a bad year, mieke--you are surely no fish out of water here in the u.s. of a.!

it ain't sesame street...or is it?

yesterday as i sat on my couch studying by the window overlooking the street, i heard the usual saturday ruckus. teenagers cruising down nassau avenue blasting polish hip hop, some guy yammering on loudly--maybe the wino who sweeps the bodega's sidewalk in exchange for beer. usually i can tune this out. but something was different this time that distracted me. wait, he's not speaking polish, he's speaking english. and WHAT is he saying? propositioning some girl to go to the empire state building and make out?! i try to ignore it but he keeps repeating his request, and even calls her a hussy! okay, now i must spy out the window to check out who could have the nerve...and what do i see, but a donkey with bulging eyes and an orange mane leaning out the window of a pick-up. of course.
oh. they're filming a movie. not one of those 'close four blocks of streets with trailers and catering tents' numbers, but a handheld small crew affair. maybe a student film, or that williamsburg hipster internet tv show.


soon everyone else in the neighborhood joins me in my voyeurism. confused people gather on the sidewalk and hang out their windows listening to this cross between mr. ed and jimmy stewart.



and again, i was totally concentrating on my homework. and i got caught.


embarrassed, i retreat back to my philosophy, but check back in a few scenes later after our donkey hero sexually harasses a man on the street then proceeds to snatch a tourist's purse and run (blindly) down the block with the purse in his 'mouth'.



i think the oscar buzz has already started. though prussia was clearly unimpressed with the ass's acting. maybe she's species-ist, or just down on donkeys. you heard it here first.
kitty joe, reporting live from greenpoint.

ah, beautiful morning

living in new york has introduced me to the true exhileration of spring. yes, spring is beautiful in california when it rolls around in mid-january. but so is summer and fall and winter--in a here's a different kind of flower way. in new york you can appreciate the quiet blanketing of snow, feel awed by the slicing power of the cold wind of winter, dig the monochromatic black white and grey color scheme. but green of grass or colors in flowers? you won't see any of in winter. it may sound sad, but the silver lining to a severe winter is the total euphoria experienced when this city starts to thaw. even prussia feels it, running from window to window, sniffing the warmer air, freaking out about the sudden symphony of ecstatic birds. no matter how goth our winter-loving souls are, we are all singing for spring.

one of my favorite traditions of new york city spring is opening day of greenpoint little league, and the myriad of little random brooklyn neighborhood parades in general. they are always a surprise. they are not advertised. you are simply suddenly barraged with the sound of snare drums and brass coming ever closer as legions of pipsqueaks carrying banners dressed in miniature baseball uniforms waddle and march down nassau avenue. these parades used to wake me up from surreal slumber, but alas, in my old age, they now hit me around breakfast time. when i heard the drums this morning i immediately smiled, the sunshine intensified, and out the back window i noticed my neighbors grass had turned green, the forsythia bushes bright yellow and the magnolias a bright pink. the farmer's market at mc garren park grows in booths by the week (in winter you will only find the yogurt, the bread and the apple people shivering around pots of hot cider) and the hipsters come out to prep-their tans. ah...spring.

okay, so maybe not the perfect choice of image--the little leagues are more of a moving crowd than a spectating crowd. this was the nyc marathon back in november....

tigger

a moment of silence in honor of my high school friend and sweetheart, kumar, who would be 33 today. kumar was a ridiculously fun and optimistic, peace-loving person who wooed me with his snarf-worthy role as the dentist in 'little shop of horrors'. it's still unthinkable to imagine his life ending in a violent way. i send all the goodness he gave me up into the air and back to his mom, brother and sister.

astoria sculpture garden

wish i had time to tell you a story...

night

memories of eastern oregon

and camping on windy mountains with jenilee.
and making evening salads using the hotel nightstand as a cutting board.
and drinking wine on the porch at sunset in a ghost town.
and watching jeni fall in love with the arcade fire.
and eating burritos for breakfast, lunch and dinner all through new mexico. (oops, different trip!)
and watching jeni pour hot sauce into her journal.
and feeling the rain fall in my hair while soaking in hot springs.
and buying rainboots at wal-mart.
and watching the storm roll over the mountains and canyons of washington state.
and hiding in sufjan's tent after being pummeled with 20 minutes of bruising hail.
and meeting that schmoe who surely didn't deserve her love and attention.
and getting makovers at MAC.
and wishing i could be 20 people at once, able to be this close to so many amazing people, all the time.

officer, i swear i did not commit this crime.

snapped this photo at the greenpoint bus stop three years ago. this graffitti is so pathetic that no one has bothered to remove it.

times square, williamsburg

bedford avenue and north 7th street, williamsburg

spooferific

though i've been blissfully out of the catering circuit for many months now and none too sad about it, i do miss the scores of amazingly talented people who take part in that transient business. it's awesome to stumble across the inspired and impressive projects of people you're only used to appreciating for their precision in folding a napkin to resemble a pope's hat. thankfully, kathleen keeps me abreast of the good stuff, and last night i nearly peed my pants while watching the following video made by a former co-worker. click here for hillarious.

not so fun house

i'm not going to do anything cheap like announce that i'm getting married or i'm pregnant. yet i'm too much of a holiday sucker not to at least give a nod to the whimsy of this day.
and by the way, this is not a current photo. i tend to confuse a lot of you by drawing from my archives. i'm not in california, nor have i been for a long time! this was one of those unexpected moments when you expect a child to be excited about something invented for their pleasure, but instead they scream and run the other way. ginger was not fond of seeing her body contorted like a smashed aluminum can (remember in the 80's when we smashed the cans before recycling them?). i can already see the future therapy bills rolling in.