yes, i feel the chill

I felt the chill this morning and decided to buy a coat. It's kind of ugly I'll admit but this coat is slowly making its way to my office.
Wow this cute lil picture is making me think maybe it's cute. It was purchased in black and I hope I guestimated the correct size as the virtual fitter didn't work for this option. It's winter soon everyone.
Also today I read a heartwarming story about how a man grew his very own turkey and then killed it. There's more to it but it quite entertained me.
I am also preparing myself for the ultimate hibernation. I made beef stew last night. It tasted better this morning after it had a chance to congeal and cool. Well it didn't really congeal but it did taste better today. Also in the works for my hibernation cave, a cozy for a bottle of Jim Beam.

TomKat!
just kidding.

Stickerbook takes pictures

Thursday the band that I am a proud member of, Stickerbook, took pictures. It was quite an event I tell you, quite an event. Costumes came out. Instruments were held. Poses were taken.




















Sue Galloway
Guitar






















Eliza Skinner
Drums






















Me
Beard (sometimes keyboard)
(Jen Hammaker in the background)






















Becky Poole
Saw and Accordian

















Jen Hammaker
Theremin, Keys, fanny pack

What did you do on Columbus Day?

A: I cut a banana.

Some people will undoubtedly have stories about their Columbus Day antics. I have no doubt in my mind that there are stories of naked dancing and making love in the streets. I however, spent the day in the way most responsible citizens in New York did. I cut a banana with a banana slicer. I have no idea where this banana slicer came from. I only know that I made oatmeal and simply stated, "I would like some sliced banana", at which point my roommate Tom brought out an invention I have never before laid my eyes upon. My other roommate Crystal seem unfazed by the events that would take place.
Please be warned. Some of the pictures displayed are graphic in nature and content.


















The banana was remarkable in length. Just look at how it measures up to our hands. Notice the chipped nail polish on my nail. It's time for a manicure.





















This picture needs no words. Just look at Tom. Just look at Crystal. All are marvelling at the banana cutter. How. How does such a thing exist? And what will it mean for you and me and all our future experiences with bananas? And knives? And what of babies? What will all the babies do now that this invention has made its way into our lives?






















The Process: Note the concentration. Not just any old bozo can work the wondrous contraption known as the banana cut master. The slices of banana must be planned so that each portion of the banana is sliced equally. We're talking balance. Crystal takes pause from reading to witness this great event.





















The deed has been done. The banana has been sliced. The wind blows through the trees leaving a rememberance of days past. A small child cries out for justice.

My Disney Nectarine

This morning I noticed something. The little nectarine I had brought to work for breakfast was a Disney Nectarine from the Disney Gardens. A couple things popped in my head:

1. Did one of the Disney creatures plant the tree that produced my fruit? I wish I could be there to see that.

2. After I eat this piece of genetically altered fruit, put on this earth by alien robots, will I start growing hair from my ears and walk with a limp? Will a baby alien live in my stomach until It Is Time? And when It Is Time, will it drill it's way out of my body, make a big mess and horrify my office mates? I'm sure it would happen during regular business hours.

Only time will tell.
Okay, just found out with the help of my cousin that the fruit is made in the Imagination farms.
http://www.dailybulletin.com/business/ci_4296036
I guess children won't eat fruit unless there is a picture of Mickey Mouse on it. As for me, I won't eat fruit unless it has fruit on it. I know, it's weird but I won't.

Man Man you make me piss myself

Sorry I yelled that into your phone last night.
And yes, Man Man, you make me happy.

Cakeout!

Hey, see what me and Erin Rose Foley made.

This will forever give me nightmares

Today while flipping through the most recent issue of Rolling Stone (a subscription I got for the handy dandy price of $5. I love talking about deals. I have no idea why.), I happened upon an ad with two men standing in a lake or pond or some other body of water holding a large, what seemed to be fake catfish. Thinking that a catfish of that size could exist scared me. To my dismay a catfish of that size could exist, and it does. My ever helpful roommate Tom emailed me a link to this disgusting picture of two men holding a real catfish. Disgusting. Oh lord. Look at that thing. It's ready to turn and eat the shorter man. I'm going to dream about it talking to me and tricking me into believing it has magical powers and then when I'm not looking the mystically humungoid fish will bat me in the head with it's tail and swish off laughing in a deep mocking tone, and I'll think to myself, "What a jerk. You stupid ugly fish". And I'll sigh and go back to collecting shiny stones.

ahnree bondael

Yesterday I performed at the fancy department store Henri Bendel. You might say to youself, "Becky, you don't belong there, that's where ladies belong and you are certainly no lady". Well, that's not very nice of you to say, but I'll forgive you. I actually like performing in spaces that aren't meant for comedy. I have performed in an Indian restaurant, a strip mall and just last week I performed at a BBQ. I think I should strictly do shows in places people wouldn't expect there to be a performance. I will be seeing you at your local Gristedes.

This here is Desiree Burch standing in front of the Henri Bendel entrance. Desiree hosted the evening which included performances by Jessica Delfino, Chelsea Peretti, Giulia (aka Guileau) Rozzi, Elizabeth Dahmen and Rachel Shukert. Wait, but look at the display behind Desiree. Those are golden ball sacks. Come into our store. Golden ball sacks await you. It's like the ball sacks of old money inviting you in. Come on in.

This is the stage we performed on. Look at the fancy gowns. During Rachel's peformance a lady came out and asked her to "keep it down" because famed hair stylist Fredrick Fekkai was speaking. I don't know if I spelled that right. I just know he does something with hair and is very important. He must have been saying something like "Ladies, ladies don't fight. All of you can touch my fa fa hands that have graced the golden locks of Jennifer Anniston and Reese Witherspoon". They were all holding hands and having a spiritual moment.

Btw this is not a shot of me performing. This was taken after everything was done. It reminds me of when I had piano recitals as a kid and after the recital was over, my mom made me sit at the piano and pretend to play so she could get a good shot because she couldn't take a pic while the recital was going on, and I'd smile at the camera which is totally unnatural cause when I played piano I cried.







Goodbye from Midtown. Look at this shit. Trees growing out of the side of a mirrored building. Thanks mister Trump.

Wait this is kinda funny

Last year I taped this thing for the New York Television Festival. You can also see my pals Brandy Barber and Ashley Sronce in it. It's a fun time.

http://www.newyorktelevisionfestival.com/mytvshow

Yeah. If it seems I'm acting strange it's because they prod me with a hot iron right before they shot this and after it was shot they threw a glass of water at my face.

Backstage Pass

The Fabulous Entourage! Live at the Knitting Factory! This pic was taken from backstage. That's right, I was backstage at the Knitting Factory. Did I mention I'm a huge nerd and I was so giddy about being back stage?















Last night I got to help co host the Fabulous Entourage show with my pal Tony Carnevale. I still can't completely handle the fact that I was backstage at the Knitting Factory. For a moment I imagined it was 1989 and we were backstage at a New Kids on the Block concert and Jordan Knight had run backstage in between songs to get a towel to wipe youthful sweat from his brow after doing many many Roger Rabbits and Cabbage Patch Kids (the dance moves--just in case you were thinking something else), only to gaze at me and say "Girl this song is for you", and he'd hand me a rose, take off his shirt and then run back onstage again just in time to sing "My Favorite Girl" with that amazing falsetto that made me piss myself. Fortunately his voice doesn't do that to me any more. It was a problem.















Hey, look at this picture I took of the audience. Look at that couple in the back to the left. They look very constipated. Right after this picture was taken, men and women jumped on stage and showed us their hotness in wet shirts...a great American tradition. George Washington himself said "A man that can wear a wet t-shirt is a man I like". I wish he said that. I'm sure he said things like that. I hear he was quite the jokester. Anyway, I saw some nip but the T Shirts were dark in color and I had to point to the nips with my fingers and then the sound guy had to bring the lights up and then we had to bring magnifying glasses out. Yes, it seemed this batch of folk had tiny areola. It was innocent harmless fun I tell ya.

I am sorry that I do not have pictures of the contestants. I did see four pair of areola and some great boobs both male and female. The ultimate winner of the contest was a lady named Asia. I promise there was no favoritism even though my ancestors did in fact live in Asia and I am Asian, and enjoy Asian food, and Asian folk are my peeps, and Asians invented brick candy. Asia (the person, not the continent) said a funny. She said her name really was Asia and she wasn't saying that just because she was standing next to me. I laughed and then pretended to be offended. It was all part of the act. Later I knifed her.





Jen Hammaker rockin out to the tunes. She dances like a gazelle.

Summery and Sunned

In the Summer time da da dee dee dee dee.
I love the summer. I was chatting online with my cousin and she asked me where I was going on holiday this summer (she is using that British term! Oh the Brits!). I really should make plans to go somewhere, but for now there are some times to be had and some sights to be seen in the city. Here are a few of my favorite pics from the last few days...














This is the current Marc Jacobs window. The children of the future all wear Marc Jacobs. They are better dressed than you can ever hope to be and they're all very happy about it. This is the army of the future. Marc has created them and they will destroy you with their little porcelain hands. They care little of what you love or hope for. They are here for souls and human blood.















Look at this cute lil box of wine. An adult juice box. Very pretty in color and delicious! Perfect for parties or when you're on the go! You know the times when you want to get drunk, but you're sitting with a glass of wine and you feel so hindered cause really you just want to take that glass of wine and walk around town, but you don't want to face the stares when you walk into the market with your pesky glass. Now you can gallivant around town unhindered and go about your business. Thank you the makers of baby box wine! Thank you.















Yay Les Savy Fav. Good fun music and free! There's nothing like things that are free and good. It's like someone handed you a piece of scrumptious chocolate cake and said "Eat, enjoy!" and you're like "What? Are there needles in this? Has someone hidden pieces of poo in here?" And the person is like "No, go for it!" and it's delicious and you're happy and fat and full and you drink a glass of vitamin D whole milk, sit on your couch in your underwear and fall asleep satisfied with a bit of drool on your chin.
Oh in the Summer time la la di da di dah.

Kristin Cavallari are you my sister?

I hate to admit that for the five seconds I had cable, I watched Laguna Beach. It's shameful to admit really. Watching the lives of these bland beautiful rich people and the teen drama. Oh the drama. I enjoyed it. What can I say? The tiniest part of me identified with the kids of Laguna Beach...the part of me that wished I grew up near the beach, had $$$ and a mane of beautiful blonde hair. Hell I'm not blonde and I grew up way inland, far from the fair beaches of Laguna, but I still yearned. And somehow, even though my life in Arcadia was very different from Kristin Cavallari and her friends, somehow I am just like her since we are both from Southern California and people will associate me with the first Californinan they can think of which will inevitably be Kristin Cavallari...even though she is technically from Orange County and I am from Los Angeles County. Oh the things people from LA county say about people from the OC. (We say they are rich and from the beach, and those things are true.)

Yesterday as I was about to purchase a beer at my local watering hole, I was asked to present my ID. Even though I have lived in New York for a few years, I have yet to obtain a New York ID. This must be illegal somehow, but I am too lazy to make the effort, plus I love that my California ID has a picture of me from when I was 17. The picture is amazing. I look like someone punched me in the face and then they took the picture.

In any case, the fair bar maiden took a look at my ID and said "Oh Arcadia, I've never been there". Since I was feeling a bit chatty, I replied "Oh? So you've been to California?"
-Oh I'm from California.
-Oh yeah? Where are you from?
-The East Bay.
-Oh cool, the Bay Area. I love the Bay Area.
-Yeah. Where is Arcadia?
-Oh it's in Southern California.
-Oh. I've never been to Los Angeles. I'm afraid to go down there.

What the fuck? Seriously. First off imagine her saying this with the strongest of Valley Girl accents. What is she talking about? She's afraid to go there? Is it because she's afraid of the riots? That was more than a decade ago. Is she afraid that the people of Los Angeles will suck the culture out of her?
She continued.

-Haven't you heard about the rivalry between Northern and Southern California?
-Yeah, but I think it's more about people in Northern California hating people in Southern California. Everyone I know from Southern California loves Northern California.
-Interesting. Very interesting.

Wait, really? Is it interesting? I don't find it interesting. I just find you really stupid. I have no idea why this woman made me so mad. I hate regionalism, that is why. Where there is an "ism" in the world, I will fight it. I think I also hate this conversation. Who cares? But I guess if she was from Fresno I'd laugh a little inside. Ha Fresno, the armpit of America. That place sucks.

I can only assume this Northern Californian resented me and Kristin because we represent a whimsy, a sort of careless beach attitude. We love being sun kissed and we love wearing the breeziest of cotton dresses and bikinis without a care in the world while we wait in line for our Vanilla Ice blendeds from the Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf while our little chihuahua softly coos and naps in our tanned arms. I can't fault her for her ignorance and hate. I can only say, "Kristin, you and me babe." That's all I know how to say. That is all I have been taught to say.

happy independence

Happy 4th of July!
Here is my friend Tom making friends with the local drunk. Guess who's drunker? Hard to tell, really. I must say it has been a pretty good 4th. Watching the fireworks and seeing real fire being consumed and licked by a man. I stood mere inches from this man and his fire. (it sounds more exciting than it is.) I was told he was in a PBS commercial by a woman named Lola. A real live Lola. Also there was another woman there, I won't mention her nationality, (she might have been Chinese--I'm not saying a word because I am also half Chinese but I think my mom who is also Chinese, might have something to say, but I won't say the thing that my mom might say about people from China, because it's offensive and wrong but maybe in this case true.) but while I went to talk with a friend, I stupidly left my sausage unattended. While my back was turned this woman took said sausage and ate it, bun and all. She was also rumored to have taken my roommate's sausage from the grill in addition to another one of my sausages from the grill. Later she was seen pocketing large beers and a large bag of chips. Later I saw her with a very cute baby and I wondered if that was her child. I seemed to have remembered coming to the party with a small baby...But besides that, I saw quite a bit of fire on Independence Day.




This guy was not kidding.
He was for real. He ate the fire right in front of us with no shame. Proud of the flames. He even touched my shoulder with one of his fiery mitts. It was an experience to be had on our great nation's celebration of independence, even if this fire eater dude was Scottish.






Here is a leg posing/resting moment. It was discovered that posing with one leg on a porch and leaving one on the ground gave some rest to your lower back. Please try it at home. Notice our hot legs. Also notice the differences in size, texture, and color. Oh people are different.











fireworks.













fire man.








The End.

I love you Man Man

I caught the flu somehow and for most of yesterday I was dead to the world, but it didn't stop me from fulfilling my destiny with the Fiery Furnaces. I drank that disgusting liquid Zicam and popped those magic crystals (found out the magic crystals were oscillococcinum) and trudged out in the rain to see the Fiery Furnaces. The Fiery Furnaces were live and very much in charge. I love electricity and rock. Together they are nice. Okay anyway, so yes, the Fiery Furnaces were amazing, yes, but ManMan, the opening act of the evening made my heart break a few times over. When I bought tickets a couple weeks ago and told my roommates that Man Man was opening, I said "ManMan, who's ManMan?" and all they said was "Oh you'll like ManMan". They predicted correctly, for it is true, I love ManMan. I don't think it's possible not to like ManMan. ManMan is a group of 5 guys who wear all white in the form of t-shirts, polo shirts, white pants, white boxers. It seems almost like they all just found what they each had in their wardrobe that happened to be white. A few of them were also wearing white face paint warrior style. And there they were situated in this kind of circle, the keyboardist and main singer, and drummer facing each other in front, and the three dudes in the back playing horns, glockenschpiels (a personal favorite--it makes me squeal like a little girl, no joke), a xylophone, a bass, a guitar, and other type instruments. God they're amazing. All the energy and jumping around and circus noises and everything. I don't even know. All I know is I love you Man Man.

magic beads!

Today I started my day the way I usually do, with the drag and dread of having to stare at people and post-its (first I typed that as "postits" and that looks funny... like "post tits"...hmmn.) and computer screens. I felt that same drag today, but I should have suspected that something was wrong, because there was extra drag, like drag and a half. Around noon I felt something strange in my neck, I felt like an alien was making it's way out of my neck to jump into the world and terrorize it with it's sharp teeth and acid blood. It really hurt and I came to realize that my glands were swollen. Disgusting. My glands. Glands, ew. They make me think of pinkish red squishy things with bulbs and that grosses me out.
I started telling my coworkers about feeling sick, hoping if it got bad enough they'd say "Go home, you're sick!" but instead my coworker gave me this little vial filled with tiny little pebbles that tasted like sugar. She said she got it from the health food store. I have no idea what they were, but a few moments later and I feel like a new woman! A new woman I tell you! I can run and jump and even make a copy or two. Yeah, I'm skilled. So what?

makeup in the subway

I'm not sure if it's rude to put on make up in the subway. I know I've seen something about how it's bad ettiquete in some girly magazine. I don't care that much, but it is weird to watch a woman look at herself in a tiny mirror and apply bronzer forever. This happened today on my subway ride to work. A tiny young woman stood in the middle of the subway gripping to the subway pole with her arm while she brushed bronzer on her pointy little face. It should not have mattered to me. I should not have cared, but for some reason I did care and I blame it on her snarky smile. I hate snarky smiles. She kept smiling at herself as she applied coat after coat of bronzer. How much bronzer does one woman need? This woman needed what seemed to be at least 30 coats. And that smile! That smug little snarky smile. As I continued trying not to stare but also stare, I realized this woman also had a severe case of camel toe! How could she stand there so smugly while she was exposing a part down there! I couldn't believe it. Pounds of bronzer being applied to a smug face and not to mention a severe case of camel toe! Somehow the two cancelled out each other and everything was just in the world, or at least in that subway car. Justice, sweet justice.

today the party man

I sit at a front desk for a living. Today I met an magical man...well, actually he is what one might call a party man. He was handing out business cards for his company that sells party goods. He handed me a card and said "For any upcoming parties you might have". Then as he turned he said "The biggest collection in the world", and winked. How could I not feel mystical?

i thought i saw a stroke

Yesterday, while casually walking through the city, I swear I saw a Stroke. He was a tall, handsome man with skinny jeans, an unassuming white t-shirt and legs that wouldn't quit. Woo wee. I don't know. He looked like a Stroke and I thought it was one. This morning I was disappointed to find it wasn't one (I went to their official website). What a jerk I am. I just assume all skinny tall cute men are a part of the Strokes. What a jerk.

sudoku?

I don't get you Sudoku. I mean I get you. I get how you as a puzzle works. But I wonder what happened to you? How did you get so popular overnight? I feel like when I was a kid you were just a puzzle but now, now you've hit it big time. I get it. You're all fancy, showing up in newspapers and people writing whole articles about you. Oh Sudoku. Oh you! Who would have known you'd be so fancy? So fancy. And you're just numbers. Just lil numbers in boxes, yet the power you contain within those boxes. The power! And so I say, Sudoku I surrender. I mean I won't do your puzzles, but I'll leave you be. I'll let you be.

today

Today "Remington Steele" was in the crossword I was doing. This must mean something, or maybe it doesn't. Alls I know is that I used to love me some Remington Steele...but maybe I shouldn't have. But hey, I liked it.
Should I remember what it was about more? It was about detectives and it was sexy and it really was the lady who started it but then the dude came in and...that was the story.
Great, I'm glad I almost remember it.

america sings but my mom shouldn't

Last night I tried out my new show "America Sings", and it got me to thinking about singing and people and singing. My mom is the worst singer in the world. I can say this because she is. She is almost tone deaf but that doesn't stop her from yelling Elvis songs. She doesn't really sing, she just talk/yells. I know I'm being very mean right now, but it's okay because she'll never read this. She never learned to read. That's right, my mother is illiterate. She has gotten by on her good looks and her extremely loud yelling voice. Also she is 6 feet tall and she eats all meat raw. Her talons are ten feet long and children run from her. I love my mom. I really miss not seeing her more often. I hope she'll one day fly over to New York and say "hi". Her wingspan is pretty amazingly large. I'd say it reaches over 30 feet and in a good wind it stretches further.

the smell of corn

I think corn chips are delicious. I enjoy them. I wish that in the summer my feet as well as most people's feet didn't smell like them. I mean, I'm disgusting for thinking about this longer than I need to but is it worth it? Is it worth the smell of cornchips to eat them? All I think about is the smell and it always smells like feet, but corn chips are delicious. They make that sandwich extra special. When I was a kid this girl in my class always put corn chips in her ham sandwich. Very smart, very very smart. I wish I had invented that. I bet somewhere in America they're selling that sandwich as a little thing people can laugh at. "Hey, how original we are. We put chips IN the sandwich, that way people don't need to get their hands messy by picking up those greasy greasy chips. Aren't we amazing and inventive people?" I would say yes, but I knew a girl in grade school who did that way before you even thought of it. She's the OG of the chips in sandwich. Don't even try to steal her thunder, you haters.

my favorite childhood memory

So yesterday I had an audition for something where they separated us into groupings according to race, which is always fun. I was in the Asian woman category and there we sat. A row of Asian women. We were escorted to a room and told to recount our favorite childhood memory. (this could have been a dangerous question. What if they asked a child from the Industrial Revolution about a favorite childhood memory? That kid would have to say, "Sir it was the one day I had to play on the grass, when I was six". But I guess kids during the Industrial Revolution didn't audition for commercials.) Luckily us Asian ladies had some good memories.

The girl next to me, an authentic Japanse girl from Japan, talked about this story she was told as a kid about how there is a rabbit that lives in the moon that makes mochi. I love that. I can see that little rabbit now smooshing mochi by himself in an apron. That was maybe my favorite story out of the bunch.
This was my favorite memory:
I used to love rabbits. What kid didn't? Am I right? (funny there's a rabbit theme here)
When I was eight, my mom brought home two bunnies, Floppy and Fluffy who almost immediately after they arrived, made babbies. A month or so after Floppy and Fluffy settled in, there were eight more bunnies in our home. One night after staring at them for hours, I noticed one baby bunny slipped out of the cage. My dad built the hutch so there were a couple small gaps. I'm not saying he was a bad craftsman. I'm just saying there were some gaps is all. Well so I picked up the miniature baby rabbit and brought it to safety. I saved a life. It is perhaps the best thing I have done for mankind in my entire life. The only thing is that it wasn't for mankind. It was rabbitkind. Oh well, it's close, right?

I don't deserve this phone....

Well about two days ago I got this phone. This one up here. How? Well I upgraded my plan, blah blah blah. There was a rebate. Blah Blah. But the fact is, I have this piece of technology that I don't quite know how to completely and fully use. But I keep holding it and staring at it and pushing buttons and am marvelled at it. Wow the screen lights up like a television. It's in color. All my life, I prided myself in being behind times, having a phone that has a dull green glow. I was one of the last of my friends to get a cell phone (well, actually I know people who got them even later, and in my heart I know they're like hard core lovers of antiquity or something.)
So, new phone, I'll call you Bertha ann. Oh, I don't care what name I give it. Oh phone, just know that I am very happy to have you. Thank you for your screen full of color, your camera, your sleek design. Thank you.

Omigod these guys are the bestest.
Tim in the front and Nathan in the back.
This was on a Thursday, when I performed at the Shortfuse show.
What a night. All those Whiskey Macs and just giggling about things.
Oh London, I miss you.
Yay! Hey!
Woo Woo!

pants don't fit

This is a throwback to the olden times when boys wore their pants very low and some claimed they saw the underwear.
And they did.
All four of them wearing very low pants. Perhaps this is nothing new nor is it anything fantasmical. It's just cute and funny. I had a little laugh about it all. Look at those pants man, they're low. Look at that. What are they doing with those low pants? How do they run? Do they find a need to run? Who would they be running to and why? I have so many questions about this all.

i went to london...i'll post one picture at a time

This is the first photo I took in London. I thought it was so hilarious. By the way, I'm a teenage boy and I laugh like a horse and still have braces.

Anyway, rumor has it that Prince Albert had a Prince Albert and it was to secure his ding dong* when he went horse back riding and also so that there wouldn't be so much of a bulge when he wore tight pants. Wikipedia says so and so does one British dude I met, so it must be true.

*There'd be a ring in the ding dong and then a rope that went around the waist. Or so they say.

i think i should be a country singer

I think I can sing the blues about anything. Everything has it's sad side. Maybe I shouldn't say "sing the blues" if I'm speaking about country. We're talking about two different styles of music here, but I bet somehow they're linked in some sort of family tree-like way. I should know that but I don't. I even took a music appreciation class once but eh.
I want to sing a sad sad song. Here's my attempt. Imagine I'm strumming an acoustic guitar and I'm howling:

Oh I live in a gutter and I don't take showers
I look out my window and shout at the towers
woo woo woo woo woo.
My face is so banged up people think I'm a creep
And I'm so poor I think my leftovers I'll keep

Wow I really suck at this.
Writing country blues songs is harder than I thought. I bet I could come up with more if I had a life. I imagine if I was a baroness and wore diamonds and sighed with my gloved hand and asked my maidservant to please tell me a story to distract me from my malaise, well then I would have some good country songs then. But as it is...my blues will include bits about fluorescent lighting, paper cuts and ordering office supplies. That's just where I'm at right now.

tripping the physical kind

A couple days ago I was standing on a corner near my office in Midtown waiting for the light to change, (not MY office, but the office I work in) and suddenly felt a push and grab. I screamed only to realize that a lady holding her violin case and large handbag was falling on me. I breathed a sigh of relief . I worried that this experience would be similar to my experience on that exact corner a couple months ago in which a man nonchalantly grabbed my ass and walked off as if nothing happened. So in my relief I said to the woman, "Oh you scared me", not even checking to see if she was okay. I was just overly relieved that it was not some sleezy guy trying to cop a feel. Phew.

What

I want really badly to eat an egg sandwich. You say, "Hey dude, just order one. What harm can you do?" That's true. The thing is, today I was smart enough to bring breakfast, a healthy yogurt and granola. I actually remembered to do this. So now, what do I do? Do I waste money and buy a sandwich? Who cares? I don't. But clearly I do a little...just a little bit.

These are the debates that plague me during a day. "How pathetic" you might say to yourself. You would be right. Is this what it's come to? Debating on whether or not to eat a friggin sandwich? This is what it's come to--and it is for this reason I will just sit here and wonder. Sit here at this desk, in total quiet. Hoping that a true answer will present itself.

This is how I spend my days.

GENIUSES OF LOVE MOTHAFUCKA
(a night of lonely hearts)
Geniuses of Love!
Galapagos
Back room
Feb 14
8pm
$5
70 North 6th Street
between Kent and Wythe
Williamsburg, Brooklyn, NY 11211
718 782-5188

Do you feel like love is hiding from you? Maybe it's hiding in the forest of self-doubt, or in the mall of recriminations. It could even be in the dentist's office of despair. Wherever love is hiding, love experts Becky Yamamoto and Tony Carnevale will help you sniff it out. Join them and an army of entertaining special guests at 8pm on Valentine's Day at Galapagos. Featuring: Rachel Kramer Bussel, Chelsea Peretti, Patrick Borelli, Lang Fisher, Michelle Collins, Carolyn K. Castiglia, Alan Fessenden, Joe Randazzo, Frank Philbrick, Mike Barry, sketch group A Week of Kindness, and the band Ladystein.

grizzly man

I saw "Grizzly Man" last night, that documentary about this man who loved bears so much he lived with them in the forest and eventually got eaten by a bear. Some called him "retarded" others thought of him as a kindred spirit, and others saw him as a meal. (this is my shortened version. Maybe you should see it on your own and come to your own conclusions. I don't claim to be a movie reviewer, but I think I would give it 3 out of 5 paws.)But this bear here, this bread bear is my revenge on that bear. I can eat this bread bear and it can't fight back. Or bear claws, those delicious pastries that you serve with coffee in the morning and serve 4-5 people. Yum. I could eat a bear claw and dive into this bear bread. I am making myself hungry. I could also then eat a fruit plate and maybe an egg sandwich and then wash it down with some coffee or maybe a tea.

so

So maybe you think this discussion about Michelle Kwan is over, but it's not. Hey, she's got big nostrils. I said it and I don't care.
No. I don't mean to be such a jerk. I just wanted to see how much I could really write about her and somehow relate it back to me.

Let's have this discussion. I'm on the Asian tip now. So, I know most of us look the same, us Asians and you can't tell the difference between a Korean and a Japanese. Fine.
Here take this test http://www.alllooksame.com/default.asp and see if you know your Asians. I failed the test. I don't know my Asians. Honestly I think they trick you by having Asians with dyed hair. The dyed hair will get you every time. Is that guy um? Shit. Clearly that guy is like...I have no clue.
It's fine. Admit it. I look like Woody Allen's wife/daughter and Connie Chung. It's fine.

michelle kwan?

So Michelle Kwan...an obvious topic of discussion for me. As a kid, the only Asian sports figure I looked up to was that tennis player Michael Chang. In fact when he won the US Open or whatever, my dad took me to the tennis court to hit some balls around (tennis balls). I think we both knew I would never be a tennis star, but it was worth dreaming, right?
So Michelle Kwan, she may go to the Olympics. Maybe I can go one day too. The first time I went ice skating with my Girl Scout troupe, my mom sensibly packed a white leotard and tights. The other girls had curduroy pants and I was left there to look like an ice princess. My mother knew then what I know now...that I was meant to skate. I am here to skate for you.

cute

The cute thing. So there is that recent
New York Times article about cuteness and it got me thinking about cuteness. Part of the reason Pandas have survived extinction is due to how irresistably cute they are. I'll admit it. I wish I could cuddle with a Panda. And sure, I love things that are cute. I'll even go "ooh" "awwww" and tilt my head at cuteness.

It makes me wonder... If there were a huge Panda that wanted to take over the world would we let it just because it's cute? I think we would. And the Panda would make us do weird things like build amusement parks based on bamboo and make our children speak Panda and we'd have to wear mits to make our hands look like bear paws. I'm not saying we'd be miserable. I'm just saying that life would be very very different from the life we know now.
There would be libraries where the only things you could borrow would be rodents and bamboo seeds to grow bamboo. Also, no one could ever wear a pelt of any kind. We'd be oppressed dammit, and the ugly things of the world, the haggard opossum would laugh and say, "Look, it's your own damned fault. You let a Panda rule the world". And there would be tears.

upcoming things

Brutal Honesty
January 10
8pm
Otto's Shrunken Head
Free!
This month's topic:
Temp Jobs!

Featuring:
Lang Fisher
Baron Vaughn
Joe Devito

and as always hosted by Lianne Stokes, Giulia Rozzi and me



and coming soon:















Geniuses of Love!
aka Tony Carnevale and Becky Yamamoto
Feb 14 2006
Galapagos Art Space
with special guests
8pm