kinda like noon thirty?

i never tire of laughing at this sign. no one else seems to think 7:30 o'clock is nearly as funny as i do. it's a sophisticated world up here in my sense of humor.....

desperately seeking hairstyles

click on the photo to make it bigger if it helps. walking past this south williamsburg salon and was stopped by comedy. i love it when translation goes wrong. in spanish this shop is seeking an experienced hairstylist. in english: hairstyles will do.

phoning it in.

since i'm embroiled in finals and really can't be here to entertain you, and feel terrible about it, i'm just going to have to pass that task off on danielle because this video she posted is hillarious and worth it...

dads and boobs

okay, so i have a new houseguest. don't laugh.
this house guest is a little unusual in that he hasn't actually come to my house. yet. after a red eye then staying out til 2 in the morning watching live music, he opted to sleep on the rumored-to-be rat infested floor at his recording studio rather than commute in from brooklyn in the am. i guess my pride can take it, but, you know, it's just that survey says i've been 'disappointing' house guests lately, so i'm all in a dither.

highlights from last night:

emre and i sat as the odd men out in a group of six friends as they talked about their toddlers. insane energy levels, reinforcing the word no, potty training--the usual mom stuff. it was awesome to sit back and double take that i was actually the only woman at the table. these were four really involved dads talking shop about their kids. for a long time.

then later, at the bowery ballroom*, i secretly marveled at the freedom with which the um, keyboard/saxaphone player (and i mean that slash to encompass the same instrument, by the way, not just a listing of a multi-instrumentalist) danced, er, bounced in her tank top, sans bra. i felt a little pervy being distracted by this detail, until later in the show when she gained the true abandon of only being obligated to hit a few keys on a casio. her bouncing reached a fever pitch and i wondered if indeed a really big wardrobe malfunction was about to happen in the form of holy bouncing boobies whopping her one (or two) in the chin. at this moment i looked around me at the very serious hipster, art rock crowd, looks of deep contemplation and enlightenment gracing their otherwise too-cool-for-school faces. i could barely keep from busting out into a full on fourth grade fart joke giggle. my shame was rescued by rafter (the aforementioned house-guest) who didn't have to even finish saying, "are you laughing at what i'm laughing at?" before we nearly collapsed into hysteria, all the while, oblivious multi-instrumentalist cluelessly owning that pair.
and just when i thought i had no image for this post, there she is, keyboard/sax tubing in mouth, ready to bounce. look, you just can't contain her!


*i admit it, i've missed being on the guest list. also, being with someone whose only crossover musical picks include bjork and the yeah yeah yeahs, my count of live music outings has decreased drastically in the past five years. but that bjork concert was definitely awesome.

flowers are so last week

on the ' to do' bulletin board at work:

GET BB GUN FOR MOTHER'S DAY

home sick

brain hurts too much to be sincere or witty. so i give you this. and i will mortify sister christian (amy) by revealing her as my source. play this a few times at least for optimum enjoyment. now, if you'll excuse me, must put head back on that pillow.

tee hee

i know i'm usually late to these things, but just in case you haven't seen this, have to share. please click here.