mint jelly

Year of the Monkey

next morning, Year of the Wood Monkey

Ah - this is what i wanted

Thank You, Megs

ROFL, Happy Friday

This has nothing to do with anything, but rock on Leonard Nimoy and Bilbo Baggins.

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Wednesday, January 21, 2004

For Fun and Profit

Lesbian Porn. That’s what I’m talking about.  But I’ll get back to that.

Today for your dancing and dining pleasure:

Here’s a fantabulous link/video that my friend Pat sent me. When I saw his email I thought maybe he found me that Hello Kitty Skateboard, but this video is almost better. Look for the kid in the green and purple striped shirt, white shoes and brown beenie. I wonder who that is?! teehee It’s Pat Berren, superhero. =D

We have a little Prince for Susie “Is the water warm enough?” Q. She’s not yet convinced we (team still undecided) should give her a long spongebath and film it to help pay for her medical bills. Susan broke her leg at a party at Mat’s house before I came to NYC and she’s got a hard cast and can’t do much. Saturday night she, Carolina and I hung out sans boys and much speculation was made by said boys. Every time the conversation drifted to the subject of filming she’d say, “Is the water warm enough?” And I’d say, “Yes, Lisa.” Perhaps that’s only super funny to me, but you gotta hear her. Lesbian porn for fun and profit. Who’s with me?

*Right click to save target as on Windows or Option click on a Mac. Write to me if you have troubles unt i veel feex eet for you.  You know my name, you know my domain. There ya go. (ok i modified the filenames so mebbe they’ll work better now. if you want to know why the file names aren’t named sensically, i’m not on a computer that can hear them to tell them apart, how much the suck is that?)

Sigh. Those mp3s were aim’d to me years ago, by my faithful Quality Assurance wingman Derek, while we feverishly worked on freaking NGM at 9pm on a Friday night. Indeed, Prince’s words are true:

If reading the phrase “little Prince” made you long for the boy in space girl27 :] here’s a Little Prince Quiz from Quizilla. *Grin* I am the fox.

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Tuesday, January 20, 2004

We'kum to New Yawk, Kid

Neither outstanding utitility (gas & internet) is yet working and my stuff is still in storage, slated to come this coming Saturday instead. I can’t get in touch with my super Compton, who I need. And someone tried to buy thousand dollar Gucci handbags at Saks with my credit card. Fortunately it was found suspicious (I may be a shopaholic but come on, only hardware would ring up a bill like that) by Discover. My account was frozen (I discovered at check out of grocery store to my shame) and being re set-up.

Oh, the calls I have had to make to my other credit card, still need to contact the three credit bureau people, and I think perhaps my mail was being stolen. And goody, it’s w-2 time and so my ssn and all that good stuff could be in there too. It’s um, exhilerating. I freaking hate thieves. Can I just say that? I mean, drag them through town or let me throw darts at their fingers, hate them. I know that’s not nice, but it makes me all ch ch ch ch.... ka ka ka ka want to kiiiill them til they die from it.

Oh - and do you generally have to bribe (make nice) with supers? The NYC contigent of my family (not tony though) is saying cash, or possibly muffins, might go a long way. I’m not flirting. *shudder*

But I’m already tired of describing all these things, and will use my energy only to resolve them, so that’s not what I’m talking about anymore.

My residency at Mat’s has ended after almost three weeks, where it was starting to feel disturbingly comfortable and homelike. A more welcoming and nice (and tolerant of me and my stuff everywhere) person probably could not be found. I should have done the dishes more. Even if my stove was working I’d miss his cooking. I was spoiled. Rotten. Back to pbj’s and cereal for this girl. I guess I could go on some uber healthy raw food diet, but i’d probably gain 5 pounds after I stopped, like the last time I went on a ‘purifying’ diet. my body understands peanut butter, best to leave it at that.

i’ve been writing so much non-blog, it’s pretty satisfying. the trick will be to keep it up after i get my tv, cds, PS2 and other distracting stuff from storage. I started about a week ago and in the two nights i’ve been in my own place have been uber productive, which feels good.

i want to write fiction, but it’s all based strongly on fact. that’s lame isn’t it? i used to write fiction that was completely removed from myself but haven’t in years. my frustration is getting out what i have to get out so i can create something completely new. it’s like i’ve forgotten how. meanwhile writing modifications of true things is warming me up so well and i don’t want to stop. they’re completely different mental tracks though.

train of thought… derailed. rrrrrr

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Friday, January 16, 2004

Bunny

Bonjour!
Interesting thread. If you have time :
Mark
painting

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Thursday, January 15, 2004

Pink Night and Pomegranate

Sometimes I notice myself falling in love with the modern world over and over again. I am charmed by the chemical pink night sky filled with large snowflakes moving like a billion white kites. To see the angle of roofs soften and telephone wires fatten up somehow softens me too, making me relaxed and content.  Standing in a warm room looking out a moist window at lights from other homes and the refractions of snowflakes falling on the quieted steaming street, one can hardly be too dulled by age or experience to say “Look, look… do you see this? It’s wonderful.”

Other people created this world where I can eat a pomegranate and think of the deeper pink their sky shows two times a day over the place where the pomegranates grew. Feeling warm inside, talking, laughing, eating food more well traveled than most people, is nothing I can take credit for making possible. The closest I come is my ability to create things of value to someone and make my own money to pay people who understand how cell phones and water pipes work. But sometimes I feel the silent presence of these people who’ve figured it out and built these cityscapes, and given me the gifts of comfort and movement still not experienced everywhere. I think of these people and I love them like grandfathers. And I want to create for this world as well, not just use it, to show them my gratitude.

best quote of the night… Susan… over the phone, “Winter Spring, Summer Fall, doesn’t matter how many you eat, Persephone.”

just read… from these notes on persephone and pomegranates ...
“Jewish tradition says that human body includes 613 nerves and pomegranate fruit 613 seeds as Torah includes 613 commandments. To eat a pomegranate is to eat human flesh...”

stuck in my head… singer/guitar player in the subway path from L to 1,9 .... “wild, wild horses, couldn’t drag me away”

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Wednesday, January 14, 2004

Wine and Wireless

oh my freaking shitcow it’s cold outside. my toes feel like someone’s been hitting them with a hammer just to be funny. well it’s not funny mister!

gah

last night i discovered the joys of the Blue Lady Lounge, just down the street from mat’s where customers get free wireless net access. um, so i have a 3 glasses of merlot hangover. i didn’t get as much done as i wanted (because conversation at a bar is always better than dorking out) but i did upload photos - many photos to come today - i just need to build out the gallery. the move from dc, first night, new years, a few camera phone shots, and naked pics of your mom.

the bagels from the deli downstairs are great but i’m not happy with the cream cheese distribution. i guess they’re going pretty fast with the spreader. mmmm to chug grape juice in the morning. eet es so guud

guh’mornin’

*grin*

i am working, really.

so, stuff’s going on in DC. dean won, but al sharpton got 34% of the vote. this is why they’ll never give dc the vote. and 12% of registered voters turned out. wow.

peace to all my dead (living) homies in dc yo

They start off kinda quiet and dull, and get slightly more interesting. Some of the photos from the past 2-3 weeks. I need to get my camera fixed and take more camera photos.

um, what in the hell happened to my code? if you see this page looking weird, sorry, i’m about to fix it (teach me to not look at my own sight after tinkering while drinking)

hmm i’m also not sure if i’m going to keep that image up in the middle/top. whatdaya think? ok back to work so forgive me if i seem to be ignoring.

I’ve had my first real “thank you” today.  It went like this, “in Boston parlance, you are wicked fierce. Thanks a bunch!” ahhh that’s all i need to hear.

And we knew this to be true.

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Tuesday, January 13, 2004

Like Lint to Tape

I don’t know where this past weekend went, but I do know I had a really good time. Yesterday was perhaps my longest (perceived) day at work so far, because I started doing actual tasks. The work is cool, but learning the ins and outs of a new development environment is exponentially harder than learning the subway system, about which, btw, I no longer have qualms.

I’m more comfortable and excited for the magnitude of geekiness that I can pick up like lint to tape. It’s impossible not to come away each day with things learned.

Ah, one memory of the weekend is of dancing, very casually, I guess there was music. I guess I was relaxed. A couple friends sat on the floor. Tony danced. Then I danced. Tony hadn’t seen what I did before and was a bit surprised. Most haven’t actually, it’s not the sort of thing one does in general. Then I demo’d a few other movements. Response was positive. We might rent a space he used to use, one night a week, to practice. Perhaps I’ll perform with him. I’d love some direction and choreography to push me.

Well, in 3 weeks I’d only received ONE piece of mail, and that’s really nerve wracking. Especially when known-missing-items consist of bills, a check, cash sent at the last minute, NetFlix and who knows what else. As of today I’ve gotten 2 items of mail and two magazines. I have spoken with my old mail carrier and she says she’s sent it all to the forward-processing place. But still, it’s exhilarating in a very bad way. And I have given the forwarding address to most senders of my mail, so errrrrrr, WTF yo?!!

The memory card of my Elph went pooCrap again, and I’m frustrated because I already replaced it a few days after I got the camera. I don’t know if I’m just so static-tacular that I zap it, or if there’s a short in the camera somewhere. Data Corruption. What unpleasant words.

Meanwhile, I loves me my new phone!!! Last night I send some pix to my laptop via bluetooth and I’m sure many of you are over it, but dang, I thought it was just about the coolest thing in the world. And the pix came out pretty well too - just different ones, goofing around. I’ll show them one day when I have a connection of my own. Which should be Saturday morning. Stand by for the ecstatic posting from my very own new apartment on Saturday.

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Friday, January 09, 2004

You're Gonna Die

Last night I was torn between staying late at work to play poker or going home to enjoy a bit of alone time before Mat came back from his writing group. That’s always when plan C happens. Tony - who I’ve barely seen he’s so busy with this deadline at work - came home with me and we hung out and talked until Mat got home. Mat bearing the movie Ringu - a Japanese movie from which The Ring was taken. I’d never seen the Ring because I’m not always good with scary movies.

We made some gourmet group effort nachos and watched the flick. My skin was crawling!! I actually had to get a blanket and wrap it around me because the back of my neck kept feeling drafty and creepy. This movie was done very well. The ringing of the phones sounded like they were in the room. That real phone ringing sound. Love the suspence.

The phone rang the first time, and the stereophonics made it sound like it was in the room with us. Then it ran again! And the sound was coming from inside the apartment. It was my phone, with it’s replication of the old-fashioned ringing sound. I’m going to die!!! I go to pick up the phone, and Tony’s telling me I’m going to die in one week, and I walk towards my phone with great trepidation, until I see the caller ID. I’m going to KILL Mat. I see him in the kitchen giant impish evil devil worshipping person and he comes back into the living room, and we’re laughing, especially the boys. I’m such a dork. I whine and whimper, “Duuuuuuuuuude!!” and get back under the safety of my blanket.

Wow, this makes me want a boyfriend.

The aerobics fad was still not dead the year we went on this particular Club Med vacation. I believe it was Haiti right before the revolution v.2.0. I don’t mention them typically, because Club Med is so silly now, but when they started decades ago they really were an international, minimalist, unscheduled, not-for-everybody type of place and my mom and stepdad and I loved them.

Midweek the guests put on a variety show, either of their own talents or one directed by the G.O.’s. One woman decided to do a lip sync act to Olivia Newton John’s “Let’s Get Physical” and she had the pastel leg warmers, headband, tights and leotard to pull it all together.

I and other children were sitting on the floor up front - the boys having just done a cute/deliquent version of Gee, Officer Krupke! from West Side Story.

Oh that reminds me, I was 10 and fell in *such* love with a 14 year old boy named David who had sand colored hair, was originally from the bronx, and who, I think, ‘s Dad left him at resorts because he was a Columbian coke smuggler, based on what I pieced together from memory and hindsight. What an unusual boy - looked younger than he was and had a steady kindness about him. man was he cute. where are you now david?

So we’re all up front, and this woman is getting physical, she wants to get physical. dancing, doing silly aerobics moves. And her BOOB flops out the top of her leotard. And like a true showperson, she just makes an O with her mouth in surprise, makes a funny face and tucks Ms. Lefty back in, and keeps going. We all screamed with delight. The whole crowd. Especially the little boys about 3 feet away. She’s gettin’ physical. Then it happens AGAIN! Same boob. By this time she’s nonplussed. Tucks it back in. Keeps dancing. A man yells, laughing, “hey there are children here!” and he is boo’d. The woman earned rousing applause. heeheehee

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