W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> Moi, Toi, et VoI: January 2006

Tuesday, January 31, 2006

Who Put the Jesus Back in Manchester?

This is another example of why I love the U.K.

The Beeb is putting on an Easter Passion processional that will blow your mind. Seriously.

The stars of the show will walk down the main drag of Manchester singing some of the tunes that put the city on the musical map. Jesus gets Love Will Tear Us Apart, Judas is on Blue Monday, and Mary Magdalene gets Ever Fallen in Love. You've gotta read the article to believe it.

This is my favorite part of the piece, which speaks droves about the sane religious attitudes in the U.K.:

Canon Robin Gamble, canon evangelist at Manchester Cathedral, has been tasked with encouraging churchgoers to attend the event.

"I wouldn't know a Buzzcock from a ballcock so I couldn't really comment on the music. All I can say is that they are not doing a Christian service, it is a piece of contemporary theatre and that is going to get people to think about the story in modern terms," he said.

Hey. At least the guy is open to the idea. That would never happen here. Ever.

Oy Vey! I Love It!

And to the fundys of America: Me ois vaxen svi a tsibele miten cup in vant.

Monday, January 30, 2006

Oh. God. Help.

I can't get All Out of Love out of my head.
(Just momentarily pretend that's me.)

Sunday, January 29, 2006

Drama in the G-Ho Redux

Yesterday afternoon at 5:00 I heard four gunshots. This stuff has happened so much recently in the neighborhood that I confess that I actually hesitated calling 911. After the firing, I looked out the window and didn't see anybody laying on the ground. This was my train of thought:

"hmm...I should definitely report this. Or should I? Someone else might. And nobody appears dead. No, I should. But is this a 911 call or a precinct call? Gee...hmm...911, I guess. I'll call 911 and if they don't think it's an emergency, then well that's their call, I suppose."

So I called 911. Granted this hamletizing took probably less than 10 seconds even in my half-snoozing brain, but damn, if it didn't just piss me off that I've become so used to gunfire that I actually thought about not calling at all? Yikes.

Turns out the firing occurred in a schoolyard a block away from my house and nobody was hurt. Nobody has gotten shot in the past few incidents.

People posted about this incident on Phillyblog. And a lot of people talk about writing the city councilpeople and the DA and such, and that's all fine and good, but seriously, what are they going to do? There already has been a noticed increase in police presence lately -- what more can possibly be done other than the neighbors banding together and pledging to immediately call 911 at the hint of any nefarious activity? Hopefully the more people who call right away, the more serious this stuff might appear to be.

This is horrible, but truth be told, sometimes I think the only way anything's going to change in the G-Ho is if some white woman walking her dog gets a stray bullet. It's sad and it sucks.

Friday, January 27, 2006

My Aunt Died. But Not Really.

My Aunt Daisy Ann had a sort of OBE.

She was flipping through the obits, as most Catholics and people with some mileage on them often do, and there she was: "Daisy Ann Ortiz*, 73, of Milwaukee died of natural causes Saturday, etc. etc..."

Needless to say it pretty much freaked the crap out of her.

She went for a massage and the massage therapist brought the clipping to her attention all the while laughing laughing and laughing. At 73, the poor woman didn't laugh back. My mom laughed when she told her the story. She's twelve years younger than Auntie.

Then people started calling her. Which is really odd considering that a) they assume she's dead and can't come to the phone right now and b) she lives alone anyway, so unless my cousins were already cleaning out the jewelry stash tucked in the back of the kitchen cabinet, there'd be nobody to come to the phone right now.

How very very weird to see your name in print like that. Same age, same city. Especially when you've already crossed the Mason-Dixon Side of Life and you're seeing the signs for Boca...

My search for the actual obit was in vain. But I did find this very handy dandy Obit Messenger that will update you on fresh death via your Blackberry. This is an especially good tool for New Yorkers looking for a new rental!

*This is a very close approximation of her actual name and that amuses me.

Thursday, January 26, 2006

Lost is Lost.

I'm sorry, folks, but Lost has jumped the shark.

Nobody ever believes Charlie. Ever. Why? Just because he did smack, like months ago, at this point? How long has it been, anyway? There's gotta be some Lostgeek out there who knows. I refuse to check out the boards at this point.

And I know we're talking about ABC here, which is owned by Disney which is owned by The Holy Jesus Church of People Who Think They Own the World and all, but my G-d, good lord if they didn't beat ya over the head with the Jesus-stuff. Charlie shoutin' about baptizin' the baby, the fact that the baby's name is Aaron, who I'm pretty sure is Moses's brother so there's definitely something going there (chosen people outta the promised land? If anyone wants to look it up in the Bible, let's discuss...), the dream...

Oh the dream. I just loved how Charlie described Claire and his mum as "angels". Those weren't no friggin' angels, unbelievers, that was Mary and some friend or relative of her's for sure. (HELLO! Virgin Mary Statues!) The Network just didn't want to actually say that because, because, well that just might be too over the top of Mt. Calvary. Or whatever. Didn't want to offend. They've got sponsors to think of.

Anyway, it's not really that I have so much of a problem with the overtly religious tones the show has taken, that's fine. Good. I'm glad that we can all just get along and everything and Christmas hasn't been hijacked and all. But my real beef -- and I called this one right after the first season ended - is that I fear that all of the interesting mysteries are just spiraling out of control a la X-Files. You won't be satisfied because ABC will milk this puppy until its teat runs dry. Sorry folks, the numbers don't mean shite. You'll never learn what the real deelio is with The Dharma Project or the Hanso Foundation. And Hurley? He's just The Fat Guy there for the laughs.


Wednesday, January 25, 2006

Beers, Pandas and Whatnot

Last night GG and I had a grand time working on our secret project, which is almost up and ready. Truth be told, it will probably only be funny to us and a select few who know us as the gorgeous outrageous catty lushes we truly are! Oh well, we say to the Rest of the World. Your loss! Ha!

And as always, Pico de Gallo was awesome. I had no control over the amount of food I stuffed my face with last night. It was damn good. And the chips weren't too salty either.

As far as my business, which I heretofore shall call Purple Panda's CakeLand* , I'm currently working with the logo people who had it 80% right the first time and then completely changed the thing after my stupid comments: how I wanted my Purple Panda "a little less Snoopy, a little more 'futurist/fascist' 1930s luggage sticker A.M Cassandre looking". And that's what I got. A frightening Purple Panda who looks not only like he adds a pinch of Zyklon B to his cupcakes, but after you eat them, he will kill you. Again.

Cat #1 is snoring so loudly right now I can't even hear myself type.

I should so be working on the last of my New York sales tax stuff right now. It's due in 5 days and I haven't even started. Maybe they will arrest me. And cuff me. And book me. Cool.

*I loathe this moniker I've given to my bakery. If anyone has any better ideas, please advise. I don't even like pandas. Or the color purple (not the movie, the actual color of course - no flaming please!).

Tuesday, January 24, 2006

No Time for Titles Today

Today's post has to be short and sweet because I've got a laundry list of things to do before Guinness Girl comes over this evening for a little brew and review (i.e. drinking while taking copious professorial notes), including actual laundry. Lots of it. Tons. Bucket loads, bushel fulls, barrels. The Tower of Terror is quite embarrassing, but I hope by the time she arrives the Tower will be down to an acceptable Code Yellow (i.e. washed but not folded) at least.

So before I make my list (I love lists. They are so gratifying! Especially when you include items that are easy to check off, such as "make list". CHECK!) and eat my lunch - tortilla chip crumbs thrown on a piece of foil with some cheese, thrown on the bottom of the oven, tossed in some sour cream and a dollop of salsa (yes, that is how chefs eat when they're by themselves), I will point out two tidbits I found of particular interest this morning.

1. When asked who she thought would win the Super Bowl, Diane Sawyer said "Sam Alito! Er, Michelle Kwan!" I find this very refreshing as I could seriously give two and a half shites re the whowhatwheres of the Super Bowl. In fact, I haven't given a rat's ass about it since 1985, when it was the Year of the Bears, and it was on my birthday.

2. Donald Trump is taking this sixth borough thing seriously. Go Philly!

Monday, January 23, 2006

Catching Up....

Wow. What a weekend.

As my fair readers know, Friday was Sex Dwarf with the girls. What a blast! Especially with the little teeny "stage" they installed I swear for the sole purpose of our little gang. Good tunes, good company and decent booze. What more can one ask for?

Saturday, we headed off to New York for C's birthday. We got a room at the Grand Hyatt - totally weird being a tourist - especially in a hotel where mom jeans and fanny packs are the dress code, but hey, it was close to the 'bway, clean and had cable. Again, what more can one ask for?

We had dinner with a nice gang, including J & K, who are heading off to Tokyo for four friggin' years to be music professors. It was great seeing them as we probably won't be (even with the best of intentions) stopping by Japan anytime soon. We all had various German brews, spatzle, and wursts and such at Lorelei on Rivington and then trotted off to the Whiskey Ward, which as I suspected, was more geared toward the American hooch, but I did have a lovely Lagavulin 12 (another Islay, don't know what's happening here, but I'm bending more toward the peety every day, er, time I try another...) and a Talisker 16 (ICK.)

J, K and I got into an interesting discussion re Election '08. Inspired by a recent episode of The Boondocks (not to be confused with The Boondock Saints, the WORST MOVIE EVER, imho...), we started toying with the idea of an Oprah/Obama ticket. Whady'all think? I think we could have a real zinger blowout win here. BUT what if O/O was pitted against a Condi/Dr. Phil ticket? They'd have quite a shot at carrying the Reds, but I still think O/O would have a damn good chance with the soccer moms and all of those Red folks who don't vote. Interesting to chew on. Unfortunately, the reality is Hillary - and I don't say "unfortunately" because I don't think she'd do a fantastic job....but anyway....Who'dya think would take it?

Last night was The Real Birthday. Had brunch at the W, followed by some frites on the way home, followed by a very very long nap followed by a most scrumptious meal at Morimoto....

And if you haven't guessed, no I didn't get any sleep, but it doesn't matter because I've got all week to make up for it. So, everyone, thank you thank you thank you for making my birthday weekend a total blast. Love each and every one of ya!

Back to work. Just had to share! Talk to ya soon!

Friday, January 20, 2006

It's My Party and I Can Cry if I Want To

cry if I want to. cry-eeeeeeeee.

So tonight we are having a triple birthday blowout bash with the girls. M, J and meeself are celebrating/being celebrated with dinner at Pietro's followed by the David Bowie Birthday Sex Dwarf (that makes it a quadruple celebration, I suppose!).

Anyway, and let me get this straight to those of you who read the blog and can't make it tonight - because this isn't meant to be a guilt trip, I'm merely feeling *sorry for myself*. Got it? GOT IT? but I must confess I'm a little bummed that two of my fave peeps can't make it tonight for completely utterly legitimate reasons.

The main reason why I feel a little more bummed than I normally would if a friend couldn't make it to my birthday bash is because last year for the BIG 3-0, there was a HUGE snowstorm and we had a big party all planned out and everything was ready to go and it was going to just be funfunfun. But it just kept snowing and snowing and snowing that day. And nobody could make it. Fortunately, S & A trudged through 9 blocks to come over, but it was indeed a little bummy. Not to mention the fact that S pointed out that he "only bought a $9 bottle of wine because it's only pizza we're having after all." (Girls have memories like elephants, men. Don't ever forget THAT! Ya insensitive jerk ya! There, I said it. All is forgiven. Love ya, S. kiss kiss.)

So poor me. At least I'll have tomorrow night and my twelve glasses of Scotch to celebrate with (one for each apostle. or commandment. or days of christmas. yeah...)

And it goes without saying that not having slept in a month does not help my tender emotional state.

(No, you don't need glasses. I apologize profusely for the tiny font. I was just trying to make the first line tiny but it won't let me change everything else back to normal. I tried, people, I tried.)

Thursday, January 19, 2006

Sleep is for Pussies!

So, it's been, oh, I dunno, about a month since I've had a decent night's sleep. With all of the crappitycrap going on lately, I've been tossin' and turnin' and wakin' up soaked to the bone ("nightsweats" - how lovely! Aren't those reserved for the menopausal?). I never have trouble falling asleep, but I usually wake up sometime between 2:45 - 3:30 a.m. I've always been like that. Maybe my body's on GMT, in which case that would work perfectly and I could get up, have my crumpet and cuppa and head off to work.

But this is America, folks. And I'm *excuse my French* fucking tired.

So I trotted off to my doctor's, who I swear to you is Judge Marilyn Milian's doppleganger, in search of some relief from my Northern Lights-omnia before I go crazy ala Robin Williams or Al Pacino, I can't remember which one went crazy. Maybe they both did. I don't know. Anyway, My Florence Nightingale (heh heh) prescribed 10 days worth of Xanax to be taken just before going to bed - even if I feel like I won't need it. Uh yeah, right. Whatever. I hope this works.

Must trudge back to the land of the living and continue slaving away over the temperer so that I can finish up my work and possibly get some zzzzz's before heading off to Pumpkin with M & S at 7. Wish me luck.

Wednesday, January 18, 2006

Monkey Love.

I got these punk sock monkeys from Etsy for a couple of friends (friends who are a couple, um, two people who are my friends who are a couple...). Aren't they just the cutest f$*%ing thing you've ever seen? I wanna keep 'em, Ma!

(I hope they don't read this blog!) Ha!

And I just wanted to add a link to this article because it's freaky to me personally. Too many elements hit home. Well the first line at least...hard to explain...just read it.

Tuesday, January 17, 2006


I'm takin' a break from writing/baking to do a little research on signage and such. I think I'm going to go for the Shag/Mod thingy with the logo. I'm digging this guy. The Monkey of International Intrigue. The MI6 Monkey....whady'all think?

Forgot to mention we spent Saturday in the city. Was shocked and horrified to discover that the Second Avenue Deli is no more. Because the greedy effin' landlords jacked up the rent to $33,000 a month (no, that's not in pesos or lira, me peeps). For shame! Shame shame shame! And the borderline-goth-ho lingerie shop on 7th is gone. And now there are four Dunkin Donuts/Baskins in the East Village. BLECGH. Got out just in time! Hang in there, Sympathy! Love ya! And I need that rooibos!

New York is starting to S-U-C-K. Never in a million thought I'd say that. You greedy bastards are shooting yourselves in the foot.

Oh, and there were two shootings in the G-ho last week! Hurrah!

NPR really pissed me off today: Donovan was on Marty I think it was talking about his Hurdy Gurdy tour. Turns out it was like six frackin' months ago! I was PSYCHED.

But I won't end on a crappy note: Can't wait for C's Birthday Drunken Blow Out Fest at Whiskey Ward on Saturday! (Though I am concerned that they spelled "whiskey" with an "e" because that usually refers to American and Irish hooch, not Scotch....)

Addendum: Ok, let me just hash this monkey thing out a little. I don't want him too much like the "rude" monkey pictured above. Just an element of his snarkiness, while still maintaining a sophisticated aesthetic. Is it possible?

I've Saved You All Five Minutes of Dullness.

For the first time in the history of this blog, I deleted a post. Last night, I wrote a very long winded, whingey tale about my day. It wasn't that bad of a day, really...it started out with a therapy session, followed by a good amount of time spent picking out equipment for the bakery, followed by a massage...

Usually I will reread my posts right after publishing to double and triple check for spelling and general clarity and smoothness. But I didn't want to read this post again and I figured if I didn't - and I am such dynamic subject - then nobody else would either. So I scrapped it. It was just plain old boring. Period.

My blog has taken different tones during different times. For a long time it was very news-oriented and political, but of late it's gotten a little more personal as I start the next major steps in my life. I've realized that a blog is a great tool to just get *it* out of my head, onto the internets and if they choose, friends and non-friends can read about the minutiae of my daily existence. It's up to them, but it's out there.

I've also been talking a bit about depression lately. Here's an interesting study I found on mild dysphoria...

Anyhoo, I've just woken up, I'm a little groggy as I've gotten minimal amounts of sleep over the past few weeks and haven't had my I.V. drip of Diet Coke yet, so I will stop waxing poetic (ha ha HA.) and begin my day. I just needed to cop to the fact to y'all of my deed of deletion.

Saturday, January 14, 2006

Please Forgive This Post

I've had a few too many 2005 de Beouf bojos and some Zaftig Riesling ($7.99 a bottle!) that I got from Astor Place Wines - the absolute best liquor store on the planet, as far as I'm concerned. Found a bottle of Ardbeg 10 - (I think this is what I sampled at your place, J???) Some seriously delicious stuff....more interesting than Macallan 12 (peetier?), yet still ain't no nasty Laphroaig. Can't wait to try it.....

Am currently at the in-law's place: this is the first time in over 10 years that I've sat on the floor. Ever. Is that weird? Matter of fact, not sure I've ever seen anyone sit on the floor here. Strange? I mean, don't people normally sit on the floor when there's no room on chairs and sofas and such? I sat on the floor and drank my wine. I felt like such a rebel. Everyone's having latkes right now, as it is a belated Hanukkah party. Had waaaaaaaaaaay too much sour cream dip with carrots (thought it was..., no wished it was yogurt dip) and now I am stuffed stuffed stuffed.

Went on a serious spending spree today. Bought a dress at Huminska on 9th St in the old 'hood. She's actually going to make me a brand spankin' new one because they don't have the size that I need at the shop! I luuurve this! This dress is great: green with white polka dots, low cut, well fitted. Just effin' love it. Will look fab with my Fleuvog heels. Very warbride/retro/diner waitress type. Love that stuff. "Classic with a twist", as they like to say. Also bought a low cut black wrap around shirt perfect for Sex Dwarf next week and a new cloisonee bracelet and earrings from that cute shop on 7th between 1st and 2nd.

OK. I think I've embarrassed myself enough at this point. Surprised I don't have any spelling mistakes here (as far as I can see), so I will stop now, and if I still feel like I have more to say, I will later on. I'm done. Stick a fork in me.

OK, better stop for now. This is seriously getting embarrassing. Got my Belles tix today. Hopefully I'll be able to sell them on craigslist....sigh. As a matter of fact, if I don't get this gig, I may not go to that effin' concert after all....it would just be too much of a disappointment. I know that's lame. But what can I say?


I'm sure I will write more later - tomorrow at the latest. But I figured with trying to be honest and open and all, I better just figure out and blog a little right about now when I feel a little, well, open and honest.

Friday, January 13, 2006

I've Channeled My Dead Piano Teacher.

Bojack bought me a keyboard for Hanukkah/my birthday. And I LOVE it.

Mind you, I haven't touched a piano in almost 10 friggin' years. But I've really been missing playing -- all of that practicing gone down the drain, for no other reason than sheer laziness really. So, once the thing was set up, I subscribed to an online sheet music downloading service (isn't that effin' cool?! wow, things have changed!), and got some of the things that I most enjoyed playing before I quit: some Chopin, Schumann, Beethoven and of course, my favorite piece de resistance guy, Rachmaninoff.

I have to say, I was really pleasantly surprised that I actually remembered how to play some of this stuff. It was very strange, less like I actually was reading the music, more like I was just following my fingers' memory. Granted, I stumbled through everything - it has been 10 years after all, but I managed not to forget everything I learned. And I've been practicing the Agitato movement of Rachi's Prelude in C# Minor over and over again (da-da-da-da-da---er, can't even do it for you), which was my fave of fave things to play: it's a very romantic, emotional, yet structured piece that literally makes me swoon as I play it. I just love it. And I confess, it's also wicked difficult to play if not for sole fact that one really has to have a man's hands to play it without spraining your digits (My hands are little and I've lost my reach). Truth be told, it also fed into my surprisingly competitive and *not so surprisingly* perfectionistic tendencies as a kid. I still consider myself a perfectionist, but I've dropped the competitive thing. That's probably why I really was never cut out for Julliard in the first place, a prospect I'd toyed with as a teenager.

Anyway, I realized that I'd better get some headphones for myself otherwise the household will end up going totally nutso hearing that stuff over and over again. Much like clunking through (or even playing perfectly) over and over again The Well Tempered Clavier (another one of my favorites....yeah, I'm big into structure and control. None of that skittering all over the place kind of stuff....)

So, don't expect a recital anytime soon, me peeps. I can barely play without cursing at myself for fucking up and then apologizing to my patient audience, the cats. And I don't plan on taking up the flute or oboe again. Playing the oboe badly really is torture. And I always hating playing the flute. Just too flutey. Even though I may be tempted to start a Geek Band with GG, the French Horn Siren...

Thursday, January 12, 2006

Good Red Wine is Much Better Than Cheap Red Wine.

Last night, Daximus and I met at Tria for a coupla drinks before going to an alumni thingamahoosey. Well....we ended up ditching the thingamahoosey (it was raining! hard!) and stayed at Tria for a few hours, drinking several very very nice glasses of wine, munching on cheeses that were out of this world (well, from Murray's anyway....) and truffled bruschetta. We talked. And talked. And talked.

Our friendship can pretty much be carbon dated at this point, yet we opened up and talked about stuff that we'd never ever discussed with each other. Which was so great, so refreshing and relaxing. What a truly excellent evening! You're the closest thing I have to a sister, Daxie...love you!

GG, you would luuuurve this place. I am officially inducting you into The Red Wine Sisterhood. You're comin' out with us next time! Great convo and no hangovers guaranteed!

Wednesday, January 11, 2006

Another Post About the Music I Love: Scandipop Redux

I know I've mentioned the Acid House Kings in a few other posts, but now I'm totally and completely obsessed with this album. It is so friggin' luscious and sweet (without being syrupy...which makes me think of Charles who said he felt like sugar was just being poured all over him as he listened to Guess How Much I Love You...ha ha! That's exactly why I "luuuurve" that song!). I haven't learned the songs well enough yet to attempt the karaoke DVD that came along with the first 1000 printings (is that the word?).

Sing Along With is just a super fantastic album. For anyone into quality pop, I implore you to give it a try. Yes, the cover is very very creepy, as the funny and totally on-point Pitchfork review remarks (even though I think his rating is too low)...if you didn't know what it was, you might think it was some 1970s Mormon folk group or something. But it's totally fun. And totally dancey. And absolutely singable....

Which brings me to a little thought I have about musical tastes generally. Music is such a completely personal thing - what you like and the reasons behind you liking it. For me, music is an escape to go to a fun, dancey, giddy space where I can just get out from under the sometimes yuckiness that those of us who are inclined toward sadness feel. Sometimes I want to feel sad, back in teenage love, bereft, forlorn, alone, together, you get the drift....and really, what does it matter to anyone else what I listen to? I like to talk about the music I listen to in the hopes that I can share something special I've found, not to convince people that I'm some sort of hip music aficionado (and I'm pretty sure AHK does not fall into the hip category anyhow...) Anyway, the whole point of this ramble is to simply say that music is meant to make us feel [fill in the blank with all of the good, bad and ugly things about life you can think of], not to be a barometer of being cool. And people shouldn't be made to feel like jerks because they like this or that (even if it is...oh never mind, I'm trying to be non-judgmental here). We're not 16 anymore and I could really give two shites about what anyone else thinks about me or my music, and I theirs. What-everrrr! I'm on the cusp of being 31, and the older I get, the sillier it all seems to actually care what other people think. So there. Pfizzle!

Tuesday, January 10, 2006

Yada Yada, Whatnot, Guilt and Such...The Drama Continues....

I'm still not quite feeling back in the saddle, but I'm tryin'...I hate being a whinger and whiner. That IS true ugliness. Yes, I'm very stressed if ya couldn't already imagine. So much on my plate and sometimes I'm not sure I have the energy or time to do all of it and come through all of this unscathed and a better person.

Thanks for the kind and common sense words, friends. I still don't believe you. Though, in theory, Daximus, I couldn't agree with you more...it's just hard to get out of that mindset sometimes....particularly when there's been external validation of your inner turmoil. But we won't go there because I don't want to embarrass anybody. The funniest thing is it's not that I'm actually thinking and judging in that awful cruel way about anybody else but myself. Because I'm the only one who matters, of course. Ha ha! But anyhoo....

A nameless individual downloaded a "pre-release" of the new Belles album, but I feel very guilty about listening to it, so I've been avoiding it. I feel like I owe it to them to just wait like every other popgeek drone. I heard one of the tunes at the Narrows show and that one is available for free off of Matador. And I have a particular allegiance to Sarah, who I hear is a fan of my brownies. So, shoutout to Sarah: I'm doing this for you, girl. That "pre-release" is one of the reasons why you're concerned about budgets and such - but please! Puhleeze!!!! Sigh. Chances are you're not even reading this...

Boo hoo.

Keepittogether. Keepitogether. Keepittogether.

Monday, January 09, 2006

This is a Real Blog Post.

Inspired by Guinness Girl's brutal blog-honesty (blogesty?), I've decided to share *one* of the crazy thoughts that's been rolling around in my twisted mind for the past few weeks. Babysteps, people.

Lately I've been feeling ugly. Unattractive, homely, uncute. U.G.L.Y. This feels so certainly totally bizarre of me to be typing right now, admitting such self-absorption and idiocy, so I'm just going to typetypetype and get this post over with, and you can just make of it what you will...

I can't really explain where this is coming from. I mean, for chrissake, I lived in New York for eight years in total and yeah, sure I had my bad hair days and all that, but this is Philly, and dare I say that the gen pop is, erm, no Manhattan. (See, aren't I horrible?) Lately when I've been walking down the street, I will compare my face to random people's on the street. Psycho? Unstable? Requiring medication? Possibly...Truth be told, I've decided that I am a realist and the only way to feel better about myself is to simply accept the facts as they are and deal: I am ugly.

And it goes without saying that I absolutely positively loathe having my picture taken. (Lucy, you so slay me...)

This is just really strange because it's consuming way too much of my mental energy. It's as if I'm 16 again. Martha "Dumptruck" Dunnstock. Mousy girl on the end pew. Ergh. And just to make it perfectly clear, three weeks prior, I did not think of myself as a pin-up by any means, but I guess I just didn't have a problem with my looks. And now I do. A homeless guy in college once said I looked like a young Patty Duke. Ha! Alright...that's better than an old Lifetime Movie Network Patty Duke. I can handle that. And oddly enough, I've lost a lot of weight since moving to Philly (see post on my Miracle Cake Batter and Scotch Diet....) and even more so recently, so you'd think I'd be enjoying my too-large pants. But the thrill just isn't there.


Saturday, January 07, 2006

I'll Be At The Bar With My Head on the Bar Redux Redux Redux....

Last night Guinness Girl and I met a Eulogy for a marathon chat&chew&drink....I think we may have some sort of record here. Got there at 5:30 (yeah, we start early. Work hard, play hard, sell high buy low blagh blagh...) and ended up leaving at, what was it? 1:15....Needless to say, I'm not feeling my usual chipper self this morning, er afternoon or whatever the hell time of day it is now. (We're on Greenwich Mean Time, right?)

BUT we were productive little birdies. We came up with what will be one of the best blogs out there. It's HIGHLY CLASSIFIED and TOP SECRET, but who doesn't love [REDACTED] & [REDACTED]? Sure to be a hit worldwide. Our wit and wisdom will be enjoyed by all. Just make sure you hit that Amazon link lots and lots of times, please, so we can make lots and lots of money and never have to work again and continue to dispense that wit and wisdom for a long time to come. Thanks in advance!

And for the record, Arrogant Bastard tastes like cat piss. And Califor is a former Soviet Republic nestled snugly between Lithuania and Latvia.

Looking forward to reading your blog, GG, re The Seven+ Hours of Libation. And I'm sure the dress looked smashing. We only ate mussels! And a few frites!

Friday, January 06, 2006

Humanity's Children are Returning Home Redux.

It's baaacck! Tonight! Sci Fi! I'll be at Eulogy with Guinness Girl this eve, so a proper viewing will have to wait until some time tomorrow after I've recovered from the [fill in obscene number here] bottles of Traquair, frites et moules I will undoubtedly consume as we do our pretty-much-weekly-at-this-point debriefing, but that's just fine. I can savor The Jamie on my own. sweet. time. (Slaver! Slaver!) (Slaver! Did I say that already?)

Oh, and if you don't have a clue as to what I'm talking about, forget I mentioned anything. Oh no, I'm not at all embarrassed about the fact that I wear my geekishness on my sleeve...

OK, though, this is kind of weird. And timely, considering last night's episode of The Office.

Enjoy, Capricans!

Thursday, January 05, 2006

Dutch Candy: Trick or Treat?

I've been meaning to blog about this topic for a while but it slipped my mind until recently when I started fantasizing about heading back to The Pijp for a little vacation that is so greatly needed right about now...

Anyway, I've always had a theory that Dutch candy is actually used as punishment for naughty little Dutch children. How else can you explain double salty licorice as enticement for anything? Ick. Maybe that's what happened to Kevin.

Here's what I'm talking about. Unfortunately most of the pictures are crappy, but just the descriptions will lend credence to my theory.

Katja Herring Licorice (6 bags of 500 Gr)

Katja Yoghurtgums (6 bag of 500 Gr)

Verduyn Salmiak Balls (1000 grams)

Salmiak Licorice (Salmiac, Salmiakjes): Either Pastilles (Strong Salty Hard Little Diamonds), Riksen (Coins), or Rocks. YUM! [editor's note]

Am I right or am I right?

Wednesday, January 04, 2006

Calling All Muses

I've got writer's block in a bad way. Not just for this blog - which has obviously been suffering since I've been overcome with the prospect of actually owning and running a real live business in a highly trafficked high tourist location with the whole of Philly waiting for the little snooty New Yorker to fall flat on her face....

but anyway....ya see, I'm having some serious trouble being inspired to write foodie articles for the "foodie" website (I'll leave the reason for the quotes to your imagination...). Perhaps it's because they don't pay me "enough" (id.). So if y'all have any ideas for me in the vein of desserts, breads, parties and entertaining, please pass 'em along. I'm so blocked I feel as if I could [fill in blank with your scatalogical/Freudian/perverse reference] (id. ewwww....)

Redmond, Toscana? Any ideas?

Throw a girl a bone, er, a bon bon. Someone PLEASE!

Tuesday, January 03, 2006

Happy New Year: It's the Year of the Dog.

No kidding. Really.

I thought it would be a nice change of pace to make a list of the things that I would like to see other people resolve to work on over the course of 2006. Yeah, I could make up the usual list for myself: drink more water, less wine (thanks Aunt Purl and Guinness Girl), exercise, tithe, be more patient, be more buddha-like, blagh blagh yada yada etc. etc., but how much more fun to find resolutions for others! We can all help each other out! Feel free to add your own....

1. Shop Clerks: Do not call me ma'am. Ever. Not even if you're Southern or don't speak English that well.

2. Grocery Store Cashiers: After you add up my tab, run my credit card and then bag. Don't wait for the damn thing to go through whilst you twiddle your thumbs and then start to pack my stuff after I sign. I wanna getthehellouttathere.

3. Citizens of G-Ho: If you're going to let your cats roam the city streets, at the very least, collar them. Nobody likes reading those cat threads on phillyblog.

4. Citizens of G-Ho: Keep your asscracks off the bar stools please.

5. City of Philadelphia: Get rid of the Business Privilege Tax, you morons. This city functions in spite of you, Street.

6. Philadelphia Cab Companies: Light On = Empty; Light Off = Occupied.

7. You All Know Who You Are: Stop taking pride in the fact that you pay .47 cents for a whole album on allmp3.ru. It's totally uncool. At least be discrete about it.

8. Joe Pernice: Get yourself a new marketing manager. I know you've gotta make money and all (see Resolution #6....), but you live in Canada so everything should be a little bit cheaper anyway. You're still awesome! See you in Northampton!

This is a running list....Oy, I need a Motrin.

And a special welcome to Toscana, Florence....please tell us a little bit about yourself....