Most Peculiar Mama

Nutty Things That Happened Today (in tidy, bite-size list format):

1) A crazy man called and I had to talk him out of throwing two of Magazine's sidewalk boxes in the dumpster outside his apartment. I hope I succeeded--I'm not fishing them out.

2) I talked to the world's most famous porn star for an hour and a half. He called me sweetheart.

3) I walked out of work and into a kind of post-apocalyptic Pompeiian nightmare. They are filming some New York-Gets-Destroyed movie outside the building where I work and the film crew had covered the street and a cop car with what looked like volcanic ash. I guess I'll find out exactly what it was when Eruption premieres next summer. Prepare. To. Get. Molten.

I hope I never have to leave this city.

Addicted To Love

For whatever reason I came to work today dressed like a Robert Palmer girl. My scalp hurts.

My Fun Day

Today was the Gay Pride Parade! So fun! I watched it from the corner of Christopher and Hudson Streets, and it poured, like Telectroscope-style rain. When I was 7 my mom took me to see Cats on Broadway and we somehow got caught up in the middle of the Dyke March, so that was hilarious. We were all like "Can anyone tell us how to get to Serendipity?" I've thought about getting a cat--they're very low-maintenance pets. They've always weirded me out though. I wish I could have a monkey--so cute! Last summer I was in Panama with my family and we went on this boat ride through the rainforest and we saw all these Capuchin monkeys hanging from trees on this island, so we started feeding them pieces of bananas and grapes. I was smiling and having fun but I guess monkeys don't like it when you bare your teeth so they FLIPPED OUT and started screeching and clawing at my face. It was horrible. So maybe not great pets.

PS- How gross are cooked carrots?

The Dog First, Then You

I got really thirsty today on my run in Central Park. I'm sure there are more, but I only know of one water fountain in the park--it's on 72nd and Fifth Ave, near the playground. As I was jogging up to it, I saw that this woman was holding up her yorkie to drink out of the fountain, which, in and of itself, is fine. I don't mind drinking after dogs, I just assumed that when I walked up and stood behind her, not sighing and tapping my foot but silently communicating much the same sentiment, she'd put the yorkie down. But she didn't! I stood and waited, all red-faced and panting, for what seemed like two minutes while the dog drank from the water fountain. I tried to stare at/shame the lady but she was looking at the dog, pretending I wasn't there. I think people passing on their bikes were laughing at me. I would've laughed at me.

Except Not At All

Holy Moses, the weather sure is bad today. This predicted lightning and hail storm is really tearing it up. Am I ever glad that American Airlines canceled several New York-bound flights last night, inconveniencing hundreds and leaving me stranded at the Atlanta Airport Holiday Inn eating minibar peanuts and watching Walk Hard on Pay-Per-View. Watch out! That hail is going to crush your house. Is that a cow whizzing through the air? My God, this weather is severe.

HUMILIATED AT WORK, Part II

Here's something I said to my boss today:

"Hey Jonny- would now be a good time to do Ron Jeremy?"

I can't tell you why I said that for copyright reasons, but it led to my being HUMILIATED AT WORK yet again.

Just Saying

You know what I think would be a pretty name if it weren't a cracker? Saltine.

Hold On I Have To Wait For Them To Finish The New York Macarena

Today while you were doing something boring I was having the adventure of a lifetime in Brooklyn, NYC. There's a public art installation in Dumbo called the Telectroscope--it looks like a giant, old-timey telescope has burst through the pier. Inside it contains a huge digital camera (steampunk!) linked to an identical telescope coming out of the ground in London. My friend Cat lives in London, so we planned to meet at the Telectroscopes in our respective cities at 5 pm my time and 10 pm hers and write each other messages of love. So at 5 I was in place and ready to go but when I looked into the telescope there was some nut in London showing a group of Asian tourists how to do the Macarena. Then this big-haired guy with a hula hoop shoved me out of the way and did the same thing with a bunch of our New York tourists ("right! left! head! head! hips! hips! shake your booty!"), so I was just hoping that Cat would figure out what was going on and wait for it to be over. She did! She sent me some awesome messages that she'd written about heart-ing NY and liquor. I brought a dry erase board to send her messages too. I could only think of one.

Here are some pictures I took of the telectroscope before it started to rain:



Then I had to get the hell out of there because God flooded the earth. I took these pics from my hideout under some scaffolding:



When I was standing under this scaffolding I noticed that they'd installed a giant carousel in the old factory across the street:


So that was cool, but at this point I was pretty stressed out, so you can imagine how happy I was when I got on the subway and the b-boys were in the car! Here are some pictures of them blowing my mind:






The pole is in the way but I didn't want to get any closer because that kid in the green was really menacing. All in all it was a great day, but I am really happy to be back in my room, dry and snuggling with my Macbook.

Talk French To Mah Kids!

People in New York who are snobs sometimes hire French people as nannies for their children because French people have more culture and are prettier and have more money. (This was most recently--and publicly--demonstrated by unabashed social climber and professional dum-dum Alex McCord on The Real Housewives of New York City.) Today on the corner of 69th and Madison I saw a teenage-ish girl pushing two toddlers in a stroller and shouting on her cellphone in French. She said "Poutain! Tais-toi!" which basically means "Shut up you whore!" The kids were yukking it up, having a ball and soaking up all the frenchy frenchness. Teeheehee those kids' parents are idiots.

Person I Want To Know

If anyone knows this guy please give him my number.

Boom! Hot Savings!

So yes some cool things have been happening in New York lately (not literally--this place is a sweltering death trap), but I've mostly been inside my apartment avoiding the sun/human contact and watching youtubes. Before I talk about that in extensive detail, though, I have to comment on the frenzied way that the city's reacted to the heat wave. Public transit clearly fell apart today, and I've heard threats of everything from brownouts to killing sprees. It's hot out, but enough to provoke the criminally insane? Seriously let's all calm down and have a fudgesicle.

So anyway, youtubes. I don't know how I missed this gem, pointed out by mad-genius-child-of-the-corn-and-friend Nathan. It's apparently been circulating for a while. Fantastic Brit humor and crazy-eyed cartoon wizard? Check!



Next, a preview of the most important film you'll ever see. In this precursor to fan fave Juno, Petaluma County schoolchildren are asked to bring in oranges for all the girls between the ages of 12-14 who are pregnant. The implications of this are obvious. (?) TEENAGE MUTHAH!




Oh-ho-ho! Hilarious! Continuing on the theme of public service, let's talk about health. Here's a rap that will help you remember to eat breakfast and cause you to have mild seizures, which are both energizing ways to start your day.



And finally, this hippo is part of the family:



Ok I'm going to go submerge myself in a tub of ice water. Check for more updates soon!

In Which I Am Humiliated

Here's something embarrassing that's happening to me right now (liveblogging!). I'm researching events for Gay Pride Week in NYC for Magazine. This requires that I check out the websites for events like NYC's only leather-and-fetish-inspired block party, The Sweaty Ball, Lesbian Sex Mafia, and Leather Pride Night. Also happening right now: we're having our internet router, which is right next to my desk, serviced. The publisher of the magazine and a representative from Keith Communications are standing behind me talking about server capacity, pulling on cords and trying to pretend that there isn't a picture of a bald guy's leather-thonged ass on my monitor. Additionally, I'm having trouble loading the website leatherpridenight.org, which means I need to call them and ask about dates, times, and events for their leatherman party and S&M auction. What do you do for a living? Are you a banker?

Goodbye Yves Saint Laurent