The British are coming! The British are coming!

Big plans this weekend. Big.

Mum is coming into town tonight thru Sunday. I’m to be surrounded by Brits and Scots! My godmother (whom I never actually remember meeting) is my Mum’s old boarding school BFF and she’s coming into town for the weekend with her Scottish lad of a boyfriend, for her birthday. So, of course, my Mum is also bringing it to the city.

I plan on giving my godmother a piece of my mind for her birthday. I’m pretty sure she’s the one responsible for the fact that I’m now a recovering catholic. Just saying, if you’re given a job . . .

Of course, the only time I talked to her over the phone I told her to “fook off” and she told me to take a flying somethingorother, so I’m pretty sure we’re going to get along just fine. I heart crazy Brits.

She also has a book coming out. You should buy it: Mother’s Ruin.

Zorn will also be in town this weekend:

Saturday the 28th in Brooklyn:

E-Ting Habit, at Barbes in Brooklyn 10PM
www.barbesbrooklyn.com

E-TING HABIT. Banjo player Richie Stearns is probably best known for his band The Horseflies, a seminal group known to mix up traditional stringband music with modernist touches. He's visiting us and has put together a group of like-minded friends. They will be playing high energy funky old-time music. With Richie Stearns- banjo, Jason Zorn- guitar, Joe Bass- bass, and Steve Selin and Nat Rowan on fiddles.

More than likely to be a better time than a punch in the face. I hope to be there myself, Brit and Scots in tow, as my Mum also likes the old-time music (ain’t she cool?) and I like the idea of her in a crowded bar.

Patsy Cline said it best.

There was a sign posted in the entryway of my apartment building about some chick getting mugged at knifepoint in the building right next to mine, this past weekend. She was OK. Her credit cards were taken. The sign was a warning to be careful and attentive of your surroundings when entering the building. Scary stuff.

Yet . . . when my sister was mugged a couple of years ago in our old building, I got a date with a cop out of it. So, really, mugging ain’t all bad, right? Am I right?!

Yup, I’m this much of an ass most of the time.

I best be careful when walking into my apartment building tonight because I’ll be carrying a box with these inside:



I needed rain boots and these were so retarded, I had to have them. I can’t let the muggers get them. Must protect with life.

The other four pairs of shoes I ordered online arrived sometime last week and I definitely lined them up in front of me and told them “I love you all!”

I need help.

In other news, I can barely pay my bills this month. But hey, at least my feet will look fabulous when I declare bankruptcy.

Muzak

Totally digging these new CD purchases (a few oldies, but newbies to me):

Amos Lee - Amos Lee (As if Supply and Demand isn't fantastic enough, he had to begin with this self-title shizat.)

Citizen Cope - The Clarence Greenwood Recordings (I heard Sideways before a friend's gig the other week and immediately ordered the album when I got home. Amazing song. Great album.)

Timbaland - Timbaland Presents: Shock Value (You just can't help bobbing your head, yo.)

Ray LaMontagne - Trouble (I finally just bought the friggin' album.)

So much love, so little time.

My taxi ride last night was enlightening . . . as they should be. I sat in the back, the window rolled all the way down, taking in how amazing this city is, and I realized how good I have it.

I just spent a weekend in Virginia. I spent time with my Mum, I spent time with my lovely friend Farrah and her cute-as-can-be tot, I saw my tall-as-can-be sister. I love Virginia. I love the people I have there. It smells good there. It smells like growing up.

I’m always struck by how much I love this city, too. I see the skyline from the train and I’m still amazed that this is home. I’m honored by it. I love that I’ve found such comfort here. I've found important people here. I've found my (space) self here.

There are things I want. There are things I wish I had. There are financial messes I need to get out of. There are shopping habits I need to get counseling for (major counseling). There’s that new job I need to find. There are 10 pounds I’d love to lose . . . but then there’s my family. And my friends. And my health. And the warm weather. And new people to meet . . .

Pessimism Shmessimism.

Good God, I sound like a fruitcake.

VA

Feeling rather unfocused.
Thought I'd share some links.
And a song-o. (Be Good Tanyas cover it on their Hello Love album.) It fits my mood.


April 16 Memorial Website

Hokie Spirit Memorial Fund


A Thousand Tiny Pieces
(Sean Hayes)

Just play this one out until it explodes into a thousand tiny pieces
What's your story, universe, you are melody in numbers
You are shapes, you are rhythms, there are signs that we can learn
To place over the heavens, to predict how long we'll burn
How long will I last, can I turn up the heat?
What star am I circling, what's circling me?
Now my ebb and my flow, my lack of control,
Turning on, turning off
Saying yes, but playing no.

Things keep changing
Things keep changing
Things keep changing

Just play this one out until it explodes into a thousand tiny pieces,
What's your story, universe, you are melody in numbers
You are shapes, you are rhythms, there are signs that we can learn,
To place over the heavens, to predict how long we'll burn
How long will I last, can I turn up the heat?
What star am I circling, what's circling me?
Now my ebb and my flow, my lack of control,
Turning on, turning off

tool

Handwriting analysis. (This guy's a tool. *hardy har*)

SO much to say, so little time . . .

I spent $270 on shoes this morning. Within 10 minutes. Fucking. A.

But they’re beautiful looking shoes. Of course, I won’t be POSITIVE of their glory until they arrive (in 4-7 business days).

I have a serious problem. I just cleared off that credit card. (Dammit.)

In other news, this weather is super-great. My pants were completely soaked from the ass down this morning for a good hour. (I’m still wearing my pee pants! –Anyone? Anyone?) After a lot of complaining and borrowing of a co-worker’s space heater, all was as it should be — dry ass and all. The soggy mood did contribute to $300 worth of online shopping BUT we were moving on . . .

Random thoughts (I spit on transitions.):

1. Banc Cafe (30th and 3rd, I believe) has amazing Pomegranate martinis. (And a variety of mens of the suit persuasion, Kath. Shall we wingman it there? Although, do we really want a suit? Am I right? Is anyone still reading this crap?) Had a few of them (martinis, not mens) last night while discussing too many issues to count. I love that I don’t need to invest in a therapist as my friends and I all act as each other’s.

2. Heading to Boston this weekend to see Teri’s band play. I’ve never been to Boston. I plan to rip shit up. (Of course, I'm mostly just going to see the inside of a bar but that does sound like an amazing weekend in my book.)

3. Have discovered that I analyze everything to a pulp. Shocker. Yet, it’s so highly amusing.

4. Holy Parentheses, Batman.

not your typical author web site

Creativity abounds today:
http://noonebelongsheremorethanyou.com/

Love this.

(update) This chick is awesome: Miranda July

this chick = effing creative

Another blogger with a book deal.
But this one's worth a gander (A glimpse. Not a male goose.): INDEXED

Bunnies.

So, Kates (younger sister -- mind you, only a year and a half younger) and I are emailing today and I ask her if she's going to Mum and Dad's for Easter . . . this is her reply:

Yeah I’m going to mom and dad’s. mom started talking about how she bought these little chicken things to eat this year and I was like woah woah woah. And she goes, AND I still got ham and pineapple cuz I knew you’d be upset. So whatever. Now I have to have my ham and pineapple share space on my plate with some foreign chicken object. Puh-lease.

I totally know how she feels.

Cris: Is your Mum making chocolate bird nests again this year?

It must have been a sight to behold.

Just look at the fantastic crap you find when you google the word "molasses" to check for spelling . . .

The Boston Molasses Disaster, also known as the Great Molasses Flood or The Great Boston Molasses Tragedy, occurred on January 15, 1919, in the North End neighborhood of Boston, Massachusetts in the United States. A large molasses treacle tank burst and a wave of molasses ran through the streets at an estimated 35 mph (56 km/h), killing 21 and injuring 150. The event has entered local folklore, and residents claim that on hot summer days the area still smells of molasses.

. . .

"Molasses, waist deep, covered the street and swirled and bubbled about the wreckage. Here and there struggled a form — whether it was animal or human being was impossible to tell. Only an upheaval, a thrashing about in the sticky mass, showed where any life was.... Horses died like so many flies on sticky fly-paper. The more they struggled, the deeper in the mess they were ensnared. Human beings — men and women — suffered likewise."

The Boston Globe reported that people "were picked up by a rush of air and hurled many feet." Others had debris hurled at them from the rush of sweet-smelling air. A truck was picked up and hurled into Boston Harbor. More than 159 were injured; 21 people and several horses were killed - some were crushed and asphyxiated by the molasses. The wounded included people, horses, and dogs; coughing became one of the biggest problems after the initial blast.

Amazing.

Half past Fun.

I went to a screening of the new Showtime series, The Tudors, tonight. It began with cocktail hour and ended with a Q&A with “Henry himself!” Johnny Rhys-Meyers. Dude . . . what a pretentious ass. I’ll admit, I didn’t always feel justified in thinking that about him. I mean, I think he’s a decent actor, and he’s pretty, and people seem to like him, etc, etc. However, tonight I’m not sitting here thinking “M-Dawg! You had it all wrong! He’s quite a lovely fellow!” Instead it’s “Well, he’s a pompous little fuck, isn’t he?”

My feelings about him aren’t going to stop me from buying the Showtime package and watching every single Tudors episode though. I LOVE me some Tudor history. Especially good old Henry VIII. Divorced, beheaded, died, divorced, beheaded, survived! Don’t the Brits have some good fun!?! (By the by, the new Philippa Gregory, The Boleyn Inheritance is excellent. Still, nothing tops The Other Boleyn Girl . . . holy crap, I’d marry that book.) Second Parentheses (Betsy: I heart you for the invite.)

To transition gracefully . . .

It’s half past midnight and good Jebus, In other news, I spent $60 at Sam Flax on Monday, picking up 3 different sketch pads (because I’m going to draw like a madwoman, apparently) and some new pastels. I almost bought new pencils until I realized that would give me four sets. Good thing I didn’t because I probably wouldn’t have spent the money on the Jam Band for my fridge. And who knows what I’d do without a magnet of a frog playing bass.



The good news: I’m working at this proactive thing.
The bad news: I’m working at that lazy thing, too.

Hey, at least I’m multi-tasking.


FYI: The new Chocolate LG phone kind of sucks it with regard to the phone part. Texting on this mutha's a bitch. Haven't tried the music part yet. It better rock my world or there's going to be one unhappy camper in Muggyland. *It is a fancy little devil though.*

RICK RICK RICK!

For Cristina.

Top o' the mornin'

Definitely met a great kisser tonight . . . this morning.(?)

On my way home from the bar (bar kissing = classy), my cabbie helped me understand the way of THE LOVE in NYC. Very helpful, indeed: “As the good book says: When Man and Woman get chummy, they marry. In New York . . . don’t happen."

Awesome.

May 1, 2007

I am really excited about this.



Hey . . . it's the small things.

I can believe anything provided it is incredible.

Love my horoscope for this week:

SCORPIO (Oct.23–Nov.21): You've entered an Oscar Wilde–type phase. I urge you to get a sense of how the British author's paradoxical brilliance worked so you can put yourself in a similar frame of mind. Study the following Wilde-isms. (1) "I can believe anything provided it is incredible." (2) "Consistency is the last refuge of the unimaginative." (3) "If you want to tell people the truth, make them laugh; otherwise they'll kill you." (4) "Moderation is a fatal thing. Nothing succeeds like excess." (5) "Always forgive your enemies; nothing annoys them so much." (6) "Nothing can cure the soul but the senses, just as nothing can cure the senses but the soul." –Rob Brezsny, Village Voice

Shared a smile and a wave this morning with a little girl on a school bus. It was a nice way to start the day.

Mr. Ness

Hot damn, you're friggin' smart. Nice bloggage. You've been added, my friend. You've been added.

AND I'm terribly sorry to have missed your birthday shenanigans Saturday night. A belated happy birthday to you! Are you and my niece kind of like soulmates since you share the same birthday weekend AND pieces of my heart? I'm pretty sure you are. I'm pretty sure you are.

I just repeated two phrases twice. I just repeated two phrases twice. Apparently I can't stop. Apparently . . .

Sorry.

Random tidbits.

On the bus, on the way to work this morning, I was reading my ALLURE maggy (nope, Cris, my subscription has yet to arrive – I bought the issue with Michelle Pfeiffer on the cover because I heart her greatly) and made a few interesting discoveries.

1. OhMiBod . . . OhMiFUCKINGAMAZING
Did you know there’s also an iCARTA: a toilet-paper dispenser with a built-in iPod dock and speakers??? Holy Christ, I love iPods . . . now if I only HAD ONE. Of course, I’m sure as hell going to get one now that I know about the OhMiBod.

2. “Redheaded Caucasian women require 20% more anesthesia to block movement in response to a painful stimulation than women with dark or blonde hair.” Weird. And so random to note . . .

3. Lanvin creative director, Alber Elbaz (yeah, who?), is my new hero (hero being a loose term here for “the guy who put into words how I feel at the moment”): “It’s very important to hate what you do because that’s maybe what gives me the energy to wake up the next day and start all over again — the fact that I’m never satisfied with my work.”

I had quite the bus ride.

I’ve been thinking a lot about what makes me happy and what would make me happy. I’m coming up with a lot of things. There’s nothing but good in that. So far this week, for instance, there’s:

1. Exercising later in the day. (I’m pretty sure running half asleep, in the morning, doesn’t do much for me.)
2. My niece.
3. Walking home, in the cold.
4. DVR'd Inside the Actor’s Studio. (Dave Chapelle, Robert Downey, Jr., Angelina Jolie, oh my.)
6. Melissa Moss’s art. It’s phenomenal. I was introduced to her work yesterday and have already emailed her about buying 2 prints on wood (“burden” and “ogee”). I must say, I’m super-excited. And reading her bio and seeing her work makes me want to change things up . . . pretty cool, indeed.

Bob’s your Uncle.

Nope, Peter’s my uncle . . .

Here’s another little British saying I grew up with. My American coworker just used it during our conversation. Irritating? A little bit. Why? Well, it’s the same irritation I have towards Americans who use slang like “wanker” and “bollocks” on a regular basis: “Oh, because I studied abroad/lived in England for awhile! I picked it up!” Here's the thing: you sound like an idiot. Stop it. You’re American.

Whatever . . . people can say whatever they like. Just don’t start mimicking an English accent after I tell you my Mum is English. I WILL slap you. Because, you’re annoying. And don’t sound English -- in fact, I have no idea what accent you're going for.

(Click the title of the entry for phrase origin info.)

And no, this blog is not going to turn into “Quirky sayings from my Mum” . . . that would make me a wanker.

I'm such an ass.

FACTOID: Wanker is also an English language surname; according to the 1990 census, "Wanker" is the 53,492nd most common surname in the United States.

white rabbit white rabbit white rabbit (fingers crossed, eyes squeezed shut)

My Mum has been torturing me with “Pinch, punch, first day of the month! White rabbit!” for a good few months now. She’s made sure to call me on the first day of the month, as early as possible, to yell it into the phone. The Brit comes up with yet one more weird English custom every few months.

This morning I tried to beat her to the punch . . . if you will. She picked up the phone and started yelling the line to me before I could say a thing. She completely stole my thunder. I’m going to win this war . . . I’m going to win. April’s a whole new month. I think I might even fake a pregnancy as an April Fool’s Day joke, too, just for kicks.*

*Yes, yes, I'm a special person. I know.

Below you will find some references as to where in the hell this little custom comes from . . . from REALLY reliable sources:

From Wiktionary:
pinch and a punch for the first of the month

1. Phrase said on the first day of a new month, accompanied by a pinch and a punch to the victim.
* Must be done prior to 12 midday to prevent retaliation.
* If the phrase ends "with no return", under NO circumstances is the person that has been pinched, allowed to retaliate (as long as this has happened before 12 midday).
* The exception being, the victim can respond with "A kick and a flick for being so quick" accompanied by a kick and a hit to the original speaker. This can't be retaliated to.
* A version encountered on the Canadian west coast turns this phrase into a race of who can say it first, on the first morning of each month. "A kiss and a kick for being so quick," is uttered by the person who is beaten to the "punch" line.
* Its origins are from old England times when people thought that witches existed.

People thought that salt would make a Witch weak so the pinch part is pinching of the salt and the punch part was to banish the witch. The witch would be weak from the salt so the punch was to banish her.

From Wikipedia:
More on the “white rabbit” part.

I have obviously spent way too much time on this. However, I definitely woke up this morning and immediately said “white rabbit white rabbit white rabbit” – because we can all use a lucky month once in awhile.