28 October 2008

Vindication for the Haters

Pretty much everyone I've shared my packing woes with has said to me "You're getting rid of stuff, right?" Another version of that would be "Your wardrobe could use a culling." I like my stuff, dammit. Every last worthless bit of it. But especially my pretty dresses.

Nevertheless, I did some wardrobe culling about a month ago in anticipation of the big day, the day of moving. Some stuff I hadn't worn in a while, some stuff I'd never worn, some stuff was too well worn. I thought I was done with the wardrobe culling. But as Doomsday approaches and I start to pull bags and boxes out from under/behind/within/on top of things, I find items that make me say "What the fuck was I thinking?" Not in the sense that these items could never have had any fashion value for me (or others), but in the sense of, why the fuck have I toted this thing around from Tampa to Philly back to Tampa then to Brighton Beach to the LES? WHY?

Maybe it's because of the late hour. Maybe it's because I'm starving. Maybe it's because all these boxes seem to be closing in on me. Or maybe the heady cocktail of these ingredients has lead me to a mystical epiphany that these items MUST GO. So go they will. There will be no regrets.

Civil Disobedience?

I usually avoid newspapers and gossip rags like the Post and the Daily News, as I prefer to avoid the sensationalistic "news" contained therein, but I had a copy of the Post in my apartment purely for box stuffing purposes, and the headline "Gotham-to-Ohio Vote Scam Eyed" caught my attention. It seems that several New York City livin' Democrats rented a house in Ohio and registered to vote there. Some would call this illegal. I call it brilliant! We all know New York is gonna go Obama, and fools in Ohio don't know what they're doing, as they've given evidence for in the past, so why not go help them out a bit, y'know, give them a push in the right direction? And with the potential disenfranchisement of recently registered Ohio voters, they may really NEED those extra voters.

23 October 2008

See You Next Tuesday

"C" is a great letter. It's situated at the beginning of many important and fun words: Cassandra, Complex, Carina; and here's a classic:



Look at the way Cindy cocks her head. There's another "c" word!

19 October 2008

Wordsmith

I made up a new word just now; I was inspired by what I was eating. It's not brand spanking new; technically it's already in the lexicon (according to a google search), but it's new to ME. It's like when scientists independently but concurrently discover amazing new things - that's like me and this word: DISGUSTINGLICIOUS. I thought of it as I ate my American cheese (of the orange, pasteurized process variety), mustard, and ketchup sandwich. It was sooooo goooood. Yet, the concept repulsed me even as my taste buds were savoring.

Recently I had a memory of a "sandwich" I used to eat for dinner regularly (when I wasn't trading heaping ice cream cones for pizza) when I worked at an ice cream shop on the beach in 11th grade. We also sold hot dogs and little bags of chips (and Beanie Babies??). Being a vegetarian, I had to improvise (and I know in this I am not original; I'm sure nearly any vegetarian can vouch for this "desperation sandwich"). Hot dog bun + doritos + ketchup + mustard = disgustinglicious. I've found myself reliving this sandwich of my youth even now; sometimes at a BBQ, though in New York, in this day and age, there are always veggie burgers to be had, I will opt to have a disgustinglicious chip sandwich. If I'm feeling adventurous, I might throw a pickle on there (though the pickle/american cheese/mustard sandwich on wonder bread is another matter entirely).

When I walked by the refrigerated goods section of my local supermarket, I could not resist the soft cry of the 12oz. package of Kraft cheese singles (on sale for only $2.99!). I now feel shame. A disgustinglicious shame.

16 October 2008

I'm a Single Lady

My friend Amy, who lives in an apartment three blocks from where my shiny new apartment is situated, suggested that after I move there, me and her and her sis should start doing a workout routine together. She suggested dance routines. She suggested THIS dance routine. I suggested we do this in McCarren Park, in bodysuits. Consider yourselves warned!

14 October 2008

Litter Lament

Wouldn't it be nice if shopkeepers, rather than sweeping refuse from the sidewalk in front of their establishments onto the street, instead swept it into a trash container? I mean, if they're going to the trouble to take out a broom and actively sweep? Couldn't they sweep it into the trash?

This can be filed in a category alongside "why do shopkeepers waste water by hosing down the sidewalk?" and "why do residents of Little Diomede throw their trash bags directly into the ocean?"; that category being a very wide umbrella encompassing items of the "why do people hate the environment/earth?" variety.

I'm no saint; I sometimes take long, hot showers. I don't bring a reusable mug to the cafe every day. Occasionally I forget to bring my own shopping bag to the grocery store. But come on now, sweeping trash into the street?? Hosing the sidewalk down every day (maybe twice a day, or more if you're Congee Village and have a very greasy, filthy sidewalk)?? For shame!

10 October 2008

Pretty Please With Sugar on Top?

My half birthday was nearly a month ago and everyone forgot!! In order to make it up to me, I recommend you all chip in the get me this item from Topco Sales:

New Item
0231-7 - Now Available For Order
TLC®
This Is not Sarah Palin Inflatable Love Doll

• Sarah Palin makes sexism sexy
• Cross party lines with your own inflatable running mate
• Three ways to do this doll: mouth, pussy or ass
• Give her a mouthful
• Blow her up and show her how you’re going to vote
• Let her pound your gavel over and over
• Bypass the Bush and have some MILF
• It’s time some male interns caused a scandal in the Capitol
• She’s the hottest thing to come out of Alaska in years

09 October 2008

Loud Sex Guy: Bringing Loud Sex to a Whole New Level (decibel level, that is)

A few weeks ago, I walked by LSG's apartment and heard him being Loud Break-up Guy. A girl crying, asking "But why?", LSG, presumably, telling her why (perhaps she wasn't loud enough or worse - competed with his loudness). I wondered if the crying lady was LSG's LSPIC (loud sex partner in crime). Not long after that I saw him cozied up with some gal pal at 88, but as I'd never seen him with a chick before I had no idea if she was new.

I just came home from seeing a play with Merlo. As soon as I entered the building I heard panting and wailing. The other day I'd heard a dog barking from inside one of the apartments (we aren't allowed pets here), so I thought it might be the dog. I was hearing this, mind you, on the ground level. When I got up to the second floor, where the actual apartments begin, I realized the sounds were emanating from LSG's apartment. Now, obviously he's loud if I'm calling him LSG, but this was OFF THE CHAIN. There was definitely spanking, wailing, panting, groaning, oh godding, the "lady" may have been gagged or otherwise had her mouth covered as some of her cries seemed muffled. I paused on the landing for a moment to take it in, wondering if it was the old loud sex lady or a new one, wondering what the poor neighbors were doing, wondering if it was all a show. The noises followed me all the way up, I kid you not, to my fifth floor apartment, echoing through the hallways. I will miss you, LSG, when I move to a building occupied only by an elderly Italian couple who, I believe, sleep on separate floors.

07 October 2008

Notes on a Town Hall Meeting

Coupla things. First: I can't be the only one who noticed that Michelle Obama wore red (a tastefully bedazzled number) and Cindy McCain wore blue (an electric blue suit to match the intensity, though not necessarily the hideosity, of the red pant suit atrocity she wore to the first debate). Of course, Barack wore a blue tie and John wore a red one. Did the ladies' stylists coordinate on this one? They obviously didn't last time, when Michelle wore a gorgeous floral print dress and Cindy, as I mentioned, the hot red mess.

Phew, now that that pesky detail is out of the way. Did anyone else notice how most of the questions seemed to go to McCain first? I wonder if that had anything to do with the fact that in the last debate, when following Obama's response to a question, all McCain would do would be to attack Obama's response without giving much of his own response. But then tonight, when he was given first crack at question after question (after question), he was stumbling over his lack of words; shock! He really infuses the tired old phrase "blowing hot air" with new life. Not once but TWICE he filled up space saying that he would solve the social security problem by doing what Ronald Reagan (his hero! Not to mention the mastermind of "trickle down economics" also lovingly referred to as "Reaganomics"; this is what I remember from my 11th grade US government class) and Tip O'Neil did in the 80s: sit at a table and talk. I've sat at a table and talked for much of my life, beginning in kindergarten (well if you want to count the dining table then - as soon as I could sit and speak), and I've yet to solve any major political issues. Perhaps my lack of monochromatic, ill fitting pantsuits is to blame.

The thing that makes me feel real pity for McCain, though, that makes me think, aw you poor, sad sap, as I watch him feebly attempt to engage in a lively political discussion, which is what these debates should be (I guess this is where some pity, ok it's sympathy, for Obama comes in - because he's obligated to engage in a debate with someone who is incapable of intelligent political discourse), is that he is just chock FULL of rhetoric, yet he has no clue as to the art of rhetoric. Not only is he a bombastic megalomaniac, spouting off (or rather, spitting out?) misinformation by the ton while patting himself on the back for some great "accomplishment" or another that he's cobbled together from little initiatives, programs, laws here and there that he may have, by some twist of fate (probably they directly benefited him) supported, but he is a TERRIBLE orator with NO TALENT for sharing his delusions of grandeur! What's sadder than a psychopath who can't even articulate his own delusions? Probably nothing, but maybe puppies in the window at the pet store who just want to be taken home and cuddled forever. Awwwww.