The dog called our walk this morning on account of heat.
On days like today when we don't have anything in particular that needs doing I usually do my best to let her lead the way. Unless we're about to run into a car or another dog or someone who's scared of dogs she gets to pick her pace and destination.
So, we head out on our usual route toward the park. She bails two and a half blocks later to walk down Pony Express' street. We get a block and a half down that street, directly across from Pony Express' building and she crosses the street, bypasses the building and heads back toward home. She even tried to go in the secret short cut we get to use when the maintenance guys have it open.
I always try to keep her out for at least an hour. I mean, she needs the exercise and the fresh air, right? Better to listen to the being you're trying to benefit I guess. We were out a grand total of 25 minutes.
What I'm saying here is, it's hot.
Sunday, July 30, 2006
The dog called our walk this morning on account of heat.
Friday, July 28, 2006
The management of 117 Hudson does not necessarily categorize this particular actress as hot but Vanx begged so here she is. And I guess I have to admit she doesn't clean up half bad. But still, scroll down for the management's first pick for hot of this very hot day. (Going up to 93 degrees, so I'm going to take small children to a garden. It's possible that I'm not very smart.)
Monday, July 24, 2006
Do you ever think about the fact that 11 million people died in Nazi concentration, POW and work camps during the second world war? I do.
And that doesn't count all the people in similar institutions in Russia or in Rwanda or Cambodia or the long list of other countries where certain types of people were deemed no longer worthy of air. Darfur? Anyone keeping up with that?
I'm watching Band of Brothers again and the way the small bits of information are released throughout the series that resonate in the 9th episode where they discover a small concentration camp is, I believe, some of the series' strongest beauty.
According to my Master of All Things Trivia, MAB, there are 12 million people in New York City. Imagine walking around Times Square before the theatre, riding the subway at rush hour, standing crushed together on a bus in a rain storm. Then picture 11 twelfths of those people dead. Just gone. There are about 12 people in my office. Only one of us would remain.
It might seem like a very small town indeed.
Thursday, July 20, 2006
Putting away my new skirts I found an Old Navy size 10 jeans skirt in my closet. Did I buy that? Since when do I have one of those? I have a vague memory of trying one on but it didn't fit, did it? I was on drugs at the time, it was right around my whiplash thingee last year and I was trying to buy the perfect outfit for the unrehearsal undinner for last year's first wedding. Maybe I did buy it. I mean the Costumier did sleep over 2 nights ago but she wouldn't have hidden something in my closet, she'd have made me try it on in case of alterations, right? I must have bought it. I can remember everything else I bought on that trip but I didn't remember that skirt.
People, this is why I don't tidy up. If I can't see it, it doesn't exist.
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
1. What my cats were waiting for as they stared expectantly at the dishwasher and microwave and wall outlet and refrigerator for the past 2 weeks. (See picture) I'm lucky to have always had good hunters.
2. Why I woke up at 5:15 mulling a thorny Christmas problem. It's July for cripes sake!
3. That I would actually find a couple of skirts that I would fit into. I hoped but I didn't know. Almost wept in the dressing room when the first one fit. Yay!
4. The truth about some body issues. This is a really brave site, not strictly probably safe for work. Also check out Sundry's post about what she sent in to them. I found out about the site through her.
5. That you can balance a half-filled bottle of water on a breast implant.
6. That The Devil Wears Prada was so damn popular. Sold out in 2 different theatres for 3 different show times? Really?
7. That I would ever pay full price to see You, Me & Dupree.
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Tomorrow night Carolann's band, Red Molly, is playing at the Parkside Lounge. They're even playing at an old person's time and at old people's prices so there really aren't any good excuses for not coming. Plus, I'll be there, so come on, what more enticement do you need?
Monday, July 17th, 2006 7:30 PM
Parkside Lounge - CD RELEASE FOR THE CITY!
317 E. Houston Street (between Aves. B & C). Take the F to 2nd Ave.
New York, NY
Price: $5 - NICE AND CHEAP!
Red Molly will play two 45-minute sets.
Yes, that's right, CD Release party! They have a new CD and I highly recommend it. It's like recommending that you buy Mark Berube's Suspicious Fishes CD, I'm really only doing it because I'M ON IT! No, you can't distinguish my voice but trust me, I sang lustily, well and in harmony.
Ok, I also recommend it because it's great music and I think you should all listen to it. You can purchase at the Parkside tomorrow or at CdBaby. (You can buy Suspicious Fishes on that site, too. If you don't have it you're totally missing out. The track I'm on is called Grandma Gave Me the Finger. Admit it, you're intrigued now, aren't you?)
Hope to see you tomorrow!
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
I've gotten scared of lightning as I've gotten older. It's partly from a bad experience when I was a teenager but it's partly just me. The dog is batshit crazy scared of thunder and lightning. Kath deduced a couple of weeks ago that Em was probably home alone when something loud and/or frightening happened relating to a storm.
Today here in the city its been stormy for a few hours. Audio Girl watched the bolts strike here and there around the city through the window behind me and was kind enough not to tell me about it until it was over. Every clap of thunder I thought, "That is the sound of my dog's head exploding."
I forgot my umbrella.
It was only showering a bit as I walked to the subway. Getting off the subway and heading to the bus it was bucketing down. Nevins Street was a river and a nurse and I crossed it in our clogs laughing at the ridiculousness of it. I thought about walking home but the bus was there and not crowded so I hopped on. By the time I got off it was back to a drizzle so I covered three blocks easily.
As I closed on my building I saw 2 fire trucks parked across the street. My mother taught me well so I said to myself, "It's not my building." But I stepped up the pace because I can take a lot but the thought of leaving my poor dog and kittens to be devoured by a fire ALONE is way too much. But it's not my building so it's OK. (It's not my building. It's not my building."
Except that there were firefighters in the lobby of my building. I'm a huge fan of Rescue Me but I have no interest in living out an episode in real life.
They said it wasn't my apartment so I went to get the dog. I figured someone had a grease fire or a an episode of wack jobbery and called the FDNY.
The dog did a tarantella as soon as I arrived. She wanted out, Out, OUT! I gave her a treat, checked that my Netflix discs weren't cracked then hitched her up and went outside. At the entrance to the complex I ran into the Newf and the Cockers, their MamaGirl is a fabulous neighborhood gossip gleaner. So I told her the fire fighters were in my building. Her first reaction was, "I wonder if you were hit by lightning."
I actually scoffed. I said, "Why do you always go there, you always find the last thing I ever would have guessed." But I got her to come to the corner with me to see if there was anyone to talk to at the fire truck.
Well, she was about 10 feet back when I hit the corner and saw 4 more trucks and probably 30 cops and firefighters standing around the blocked off main thoroughfare. The 24 hour deli was blocked off! That's where they keep my ice cream! We crossed and headed toward the gathering crowd.
There's a huge chunk blown off the top corner of my building! MamaGirl approaches a cop then turns to me and says, "See!" Lightning struck my motherfucking building! There were shards of brick (big shards, shards that would make dangerous holes in one's head) as far as 50 feet away. About 10 bricks lay on the ground by the deli. The FDNY had a ladder truck set up and people inside and outside the apartment that was nearest the hit. I didn't hear anyone report any damage to the apartment but you could see cracks in the outer wall going almost to the floor below.
So now I'm not scared of being hit by lightning or electrocuted, I'm frightened of being conked on the noggin by bricky shrapnel!
While we were out there gawping (as my mother taught me never to do) and chatting someone mentioned bits and pieces of a Big Dig tunnel flattening someone in Boston. When I got back inside I called PapaKizz. I figure if I hadn't heard then it probably wasn't him but checking in is the nice thing to do (whoops I forgot to ask about the last weekend of his show, got to do that tomorrow). His response, "Oh, I thought you were calling about Exeter!"
It's been an exciting couple of days. Check out what happened to Chili's house (more than one entry, make sure you read far enough to see the pictures of the telephone pole). Check out the photo gallery of my hometown. And maybe tomorrow I'll get you some pictures of the damage to my building. Too exciting.
The thunderstorms are supposed to continue here and there through this time tomorrow. For the first time in the history of Emily I have given her a puppy quaalude. I figure I'll give her one to see how she does with it tonight and if she does OK I'll give her one tomorrow before I leave for work so she'll feel a little better while I'm at work. So far she's responding to stimuli and moving occasionally of her own volition but she's pretty fucking chilled out.
Anybody got any Kizzy Quaaludes?
Monday, July 10, 2006
Sunday, July 09, 2006
My great aunt is 91 years old. Lifelong single woman, teacher of home economics.
A couple of months ago she acquired a gentleman caller. He's a nice old guy, apparently his wife died and he has no culinary skills. (Listen up gentlemen, retain your cooking skills!) So he asked if she might cook for him. He brings food, she cooks it up, they eat, he helps with heavy lifting, he occasionally drives her to the doctor.
I just wanted to share with you a few choice remarks she made the other day when we talked about him.
"I told him once every other week. I don't want to be bothered more than that."
"I can't be bothered but if John and Nadine are at camp it'd be good to have someone who could take me to the doctor if I can't drive so I tell him it's OK to come again."
"I told him not to bring so much. He brings strawberries from the hill up there and corn. It's too much."
"He asked if he could hug me and I said no, I don't want any of that. We can swap ideas and that's fine, that's just plenty."
She has, however, conceded to teach him how to make French Toast. I suspect she would have refused but she was afraid he'd ask to come over for breakfast.
Oh dear oh dear oh dear oh dear.
I admit it. I read a lot of fanfic. I'm not afraid to say so.
But I may have hit a new, er, plateau. I just got an idea to write one. It'd happen sometime after the near tattooing of Veronica in The River Styx.
A gun Logan? A gun? You're going to get yourself killed!
It's not loaded.
She'd be all freaked out about the Fighting Fitzpatricks, she'd want to feel protected, she'd ask for shooting lessons. There'd be the inevitable steamy "here's how you want to grip it" scene. You know, like with CJ and Mark Harmon on the West Wing right before his character got shot and killed. Which would lead to explosions of another kind and that is the bedrock upon which successful NC-17 fanfic is built.
I suppose the real question is: Will I ever grow up?
Friday, July 07, 2006
My first time uploading from Flickr, hope it works.
I don't think I'm supposed to say who took this, she did this totally off the cuff, it was an accident, her photos are beautiful.
Edited to add: Flickr thing didn't go well, trying to reformat to see if it works a new way. No idea why this wouldn't post easily. I am technically defeated these days.
Thursday, July 06, 2006
Tuesday, July 04, 2006
Yesterday an older woman from my apartment complex who has recently gotten a replacement for her beloved departed dog stopped me as Em and I were walking to the park.
"She's such a well-mannered dog." she said with a smile. I've never seen her smile before.
Those who know Emolina know that she is just that. She's a super dog, truly exceptional, and I don't think I say that just because she likes me. But I don't hear it much spontaneously on the street. Might be her shepherdness, might be the neighborhood, might be that I'm just a standoffish bitch but we just don't get that very often. It's nice.
Last month Kath & Alex were kind enough to keep the pooch for a few days while I visited the fam and ate a bunch of lobster (thanks TG!). It was a last minute deal and I thought it was a huge imposition. K&A disagreed. They lost their marvelous Cameron in February and they seem to really have enjoyed having a a dog around. They walked her all over creation and they tried to feed her decadent things and let her sleep on the bed but she wasn't having any of it. She gets a big case of the left-behinds when she's, well, left behind. I knew she'd get treated well, as the photo above attests. No dog who has an average of 4 people in the room ready to pet her at any one time while she lounges on the ottoman is doing too badly.
There was another little reason I thought it would be good to have her hang with the folks. Em is my first dog. It was a surprise to get her. And I'm not a big old research type, I learn as I go and I know that I've made some mistakes but clearly (thank goodness) not enough to make her unbearable to those around us. Kath often takes care of other people's dogs. And occasionally while we're walking doing something else she'll talk about those experiences. She almost always notices something that the owners haven't yet. One is getting arthritis, one needs a choke collar, one is a fighter and needs training. I was hoping she'd notice the one thing about me, the thing I'm doing wrong and tell me about it.
So far no dice, though. Maybe this entry will prompt her.
Kath & Alex have started the dicey process of looking for a new dog. Purely by accident she ran into a dog at the corner vet. He isn't the dog for them but he's a fabulous dog, according to the woman to whom I entrust my own dog, so she's committed to finding him a home.
The people at the vet are calling him Bobby Vanderbilt. He's 1-2 years old, he's house trained, he's good with all manner of other animals, he's even good on a leash. I don't know that he's been neutered yet but that can easily and quickly be arranged. Looks to be a golden/shepherd mix. If you know anyone that might be interested let me know and I'll put them in touch. He's in Brooklyn right now but we could probably work out a transport arrangements.
Monday, July 03, 2006
As senior communities go it's not horrific but there are necessary evils that are..well, you know, evil.
At this point no kids were volunteering to learn to play the song that my Mim wanted to play. So MamaKizz volunteered. She had so much fun. They both did!