!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Eye of a Hurricane/Listen to Yourself Churn

The spinny click-click thing on my iPod just broke while I was running in Central Park, so I could only access my first playlist, "80's Jamzzzzzz." I've been listening to "Smooth Criminal" and "Funkytown" on a loop for like 45 minutes.

Things That Make Sense But Are Just Hideous

The glamour of a dress; the freedom of a pant.

Sick Beats

Yesterday this albino guy got on the F train and rapped all the way from Dumbo to Upper Manhattan. It was mindblowing. He was just sitting in his seat, wearing dad jeans and a polo shirt and providing his own backbeat, like "what? what? what? what? what?" "He-ey!" He didn't pause once; he just kept rapping to himself.

*Note: It was NOT Brother Ali.

How I Spend My Free Time

Yesterday I got really nervous thinking about all of the embarrassing things in my life that haven't happened yet. There will be so many times when I am just mortified.

I Can't Stop Myself

Two days ago the girl sitting next to me on the train moved seats because I kept putting Chiquitita on repeat and I guess she could hear it through my earphones.

"Are you a swim coach? Because you look like a swim coach."

A lady just came into the office selling American Express cards and said that to me. Do you think I look like a swim coach?

Street Meat!

Like so many New Yorkers before me, I've started eating food from carts. I'm hooked! I get my lunch every day at Dumbo Grillo, which serves up delicious, spicy halal chicken over rice for $5 in an earth-forsaking styrofoam box. I order it with lots of yogurt and hot sauces. So good! Thanks to Adam for telling me about Dumbo Grillo and also for this lovely picture, which he took of his lunch last week:



*Editor's note: Friend Adam points out that the word "spicy" is misleading. The chicken has a lot of spices on it but it is not spicy in the colloquial sense.

See That Girl, Watch That Scene

This weekend I went to Boston to visit my friend Nick and prance around singing ABBA. These were the major themes and topics of discussion:

1) Mamma Mia

If you go and see Mamma Mia and you don't like it, you're pretty much bad at being human. This movie-going experience was phenomenal, despite the unnerving fact that me and my drunk friends were the only ones singing in a very staid Boston Commons theater.

2) St. Germain
St. Germain liqueur is unendingly delicious--like drinking perfume but in a good way, not in a searing, rubbing alcohol way. Highly recommended for your next summertime delight!

3) cupcakes


OMG cupcakes are BACK! These cupcakes are made of sweaters, but that's not the case with the sugary treats that friend Nick will be peddling at Boston bakery Sweet come September. I want red velvet!

4) Jordan Catalano


Remember this guy? Before he got all eye-lined and was just a dreamy, elusive teen rocker on My So-Called Life? Nick's cat is also named Jordan Catalano, which is all kinds of topical and clever.

5) Boyfriends



Now I'm back in the New York groove and hoping Nick and Dan will come down and see me soon. Thanks for the hospitality, boys!

Brush With Fame

As I was leaving the building where I work on Friday, this guy was coming in:

He was wearing a porkpie hat and looked irritable and short. Seriously why are famous people so short?

I Was Thinking

Hey remember a few years ago when everyone made a big deal about popping or not popping your collar? There was an "Anti-Popped Collar Club" on facebook, and I assume there was a Popped club as well. Do we still care about that? Do people still pop?

Also, what is ice milk? Has anyone ever eaten it? When I hear the name I just think of those gross shards you get in your cereal when your refrigerator's too cold.

I should rename this blog Stuff I Think About While I'm Waiting For Chinese Food.

Doo-Dana!!

My aunt Laurie owns one of these. She wears it in the summer when she's feeling hot or rebellious. Sometimes I wear it too.

Bad Tattoo, Part One

In this new series I will tell you about a bad tattoo that I saw today. On the F train I saw a lady with an anklet tattoo made out of cats playing on a ring of grass. They had outfits on--they looked like the cats on those stickers I used to get at the pediatrician. The were looking innocent but frisky and tumbling around, permanently, on her flesh. It was maybe the worst tattoo I've ever seen.

I Know Right?

Somebody put me on a youtube comedy listserv and now I don't leave my house.

A Walk With Ben, Or, Logic Triumphs Again

Ben: What's that lady's story?

Me: She's a professional pig walker.

Ben: Mary, that's not real.

Me: She just told me she was.

Ben: I find that hard to believe.

Me: Why? It's not like she wasn't walking two pigs on a leash when she told me that.

Ben: Do you seriously think she makes a living walking pigs, only?

For Your Monday Surprise

I kind of wanted to just post this picture by itself but credit must be given where credit is due. Thanks, dear friend Ben, for directing me to Curbed's coverage of the Times Square promotion of the new movie Meet Dave, in which this giant disembodied head played a prominent role. Pictured, Eddie gets caught in traffic on the way out of town.

Fruit of the Vine

Here's what: I went to the North Fork of Long Island yesterday to enjoy Carvel cake, amateur fireworks and someone else's family. Pretty great. Today I went to some wineries, and I really can't say enough about that. Highly recommended. Rieslings, Cabernet, all that stuff was great. I learned a lot about wine; mainly that you don't have to spit it out after you taste it. Thanks, Steph and Ryan, for the tour of your lovely hometown and for being "those people" on the carousel with me. I'm coming back soon and we're all going to Splish Splash.

4th of July

Today we celebrate the birth of our nation. I'll be doing that by watching La Dolce Vita on my macbook and drinking bourbon by myself.

Urban Fantasy

Yesterday I had such a great New York moment. I was waiting in Tompkins Square Park for a friend to get out of work, reading a collection of DH Lawrence short stories that I never got around to in twelfth grade English. There were some young parents nearby pushing squealing toddlers on a swing, and across the walk three homeless crackheads were arguing over an ID card that one of them had found in the bushes. It was about dusk; there was a soft breeze. One of the crack addicts started shouting "I'm going to fuck you up!", so I decided I'd had enough sociological idealization for one afternoon and packed it off to the bar. But it was a great coming-together of East Village Old and New.