Complicating matters more...

I 'd like those words silk-screened onto a T-shirt. Size Small. Seriously.

So lately, I've rambled on and on about my minor but constant 'struggle' with thinness...or skinnyness, if that's a word. Or rather, the over-awareness of it by the 40-ish women I work with.

At work today, I took a tooth-brush break in the ladies room after lunch. As it happens (to me), I couldn't find my toothbrush, so i went with the toothpaste-on-the-finger approach to dental hygiene and fresh breath. I'm in the ladies room, doing just that, when one of my editors walks in. She stops and stares at me for a second with shock and horror in her eyes just as I'm applying finger and toothpaste to my tongue. uh oh. My first thought: "damage control." I quickly remove the finger from my mouth, spit the foamy residue into the sink, and say "Ohh, hi! The chicken I ate for lunch was SO garlicky, and I can't find my toothbrush, so the finger will have to do!" Which is the truth. She laughs, perfunctorily. And then said...Wait. I don't know what she said. It was a mumble of nothingness, as she stood there staring at me for another 30 seconds that felt like 5 minutes, with a mother's concern in her eyes. I wanted to say "I'm OK...even though I'm sure it looks like I'm purging. ha ha!" That didn't happen. She walked into the stall..and I finished up, reapplied my lipstick, and made haste.

I'm still thinking about it, obviously. And wondering just what she was thinking when she walked through the door. Something a thin girl never wants to be caught doing is poking her finger toward her throat. But perhaps this is my overactive paranoia sculpting some form of irrational hyper-vigilance. It's likely, this woman walked in and saw me finger-brushing my teeth, a somewhat private act, in a somewhat public restroom and was skeeved out. yeah, that's probably it...

I just ate a half-melted section of Kit Kat from my purse.

But in my defense, it was still in the package, and there were no visible lent or dirt particles present. Is that gross?

Anyhow, speaking of defending my indiscretions ...

I truly-deeply wish life will slow down a bit...so I can post! And by "life" I mean, work. At least 90 percent of my life lately is work. The other 10 percent consists of time-spent-with-loved-ones/sex/yoga/eating/going to the bathroom...oh, and sleeping. How sad is that? If only I could blog about myself for a living.

Speaking of which, I've watched all but the last 10 minutes of Julie & Julia, and even if you don't love/admire/respect Julia Child (and I do), you should see it. I mean, if you like food, particularly, rich, gooey, drippy, buttery, meat-centric food, I suggest you click-and-add it to your Netflix queue. Of course, I can say a little more after I finish watching it. WARNING: It will make you hungry.

But again, I want to post. That's my uppermost goal this week...and I have at least 2 juicy ones in the pipeline. And by juicy, I mean love-speckled and slightly sappy. So, until then, I bring you the Oscar-winning animated short Logorama. It's truly brilliant and worth the 16-minute chunk out of your life. If you watch it and think otherwise, tell me why...because I can't imagine who could hate this film....well, except maybe Ronald McDonald.

snow in july.

hello, global warming. If this isn't a sure sign that the climate is in distress, I don't know what is. Take a look at pics from my office's parking lot after last night's hail storm. Shocking, right? In case the photos don't give you a clear visual, those hail stones are the size of marbles. ouch! Of course, the whimsy-seeking kid in me thinks it's pretty darn cool to have a little ice on an 80-degree summer day :-)

"40 plus and single?"

this was the subject line of an email that sneakily squirmed it's way past my spam filter today (gotta get that thing fixed). c'mon! times are not that hard that i have to be tagged "single" and 9 years older, are they? wait--i'll answer that. NO, THEY ARE NOT.

or perhaps the gods of dating are suggesting that i'm meant to take a lover in his or her 40s. how clairvoyant of them! but wait, i guess if they're gods--they'd have no use for psychic powers. anyway, don't know where i'm going with this, so I'll end here by saying, i have neither the need or want for the matchmaker emails. In fact, I made a match all by myself just half an hour ago with a chubby little black pug, with one good eye and a hankering for my ham sammich in a charming little hair salon on Broome--where jacqueline gave me a lover-ly bang trim (see below). He crawled onto my lap, enduringly planted himself there--and I fell madly in love with him. Oh, and then he fell asleep.

i know that i complain often...

...about having to trek all the way out to the sticks to get to my job. Most days i waver between reminiscing on the easy non-commute of my old job in Midtown, and just plain ol' fantasizing about not having a job at all...though I've never had the luxury of the latter (and if I did, I'd likely not think it as grand as it seems). Yet, when it snows, what does one who trekketh out to the sticks to get to work get? A SNOW DAY!

Last night i said to my friend Harry, "I reaaaally hope it snows all night so i can have a snow day."
Says Harry: "Snow day? You don't get snow days. It's New York!!"
Says me: "Yes you do, if you work in [the sticks]."
And sure enough, I woke up to several inches of pillowy white goodness and a message on the company voice mail saying "Due to inclement weather, the office will be closed today." Oh, the utter joy of a Monday off...

To properly celebrate, Hannah and i packed up some grilled cheese sandwiches and strawberries, and took a stroll through Central Park. It amazes me how the snow muffles sound and makes the city feel slower and less frenzied. Two friends sat on a swing in Central Park, gliding and giggling like children, and watched the real children sled and giggle down a hill. Who says there's no such thing as perfect? Well, it was at least until my fingers and toes began to freeze b/c of the 20-degree temps...ouch...oh well...sledding...snow pose...swinging...i didn't see the set of steps on the side of this hill, until after i'd climbed up (and fallen down...TWICE)oh, and then i met a boy...

where is my automobile?

happy birthday john hughes. and thank you. the world would be a much sadder place for unpopular, acned, rejected, sweaty-palmed, geeky, fat, skinny, big-haired, flat-chested, gangly, acid-washed, metal-mouthed teenage boys and girls without you. (and thank you most of all for jake ryan.) xo.

thirty-one.

i had no real plans to celebrate..."I just wanna do something low key." well, it was anything but...*smiles* (thanks hans)

♥ din-din at Sticky Rice (I must have that giant blue chandelier!!)

♥ beers under the red lights of motor city (no, no doorguy yet. my long-lost brother, apparently, was there)

♥ delicious orange-flavored shots and Jimmy James at the magician (tom, what did u put in those shots???),

♥ impromptu lychee martinis, bourbon & ginger ales, and chit-chat at verlaine (stan, thanks for fixing my rosary)

♥ more beers at motor city. (uh oh)

♥ braided the doorguy's beard TWICE--added a little lip gloss and spit to help the braids stay put

♥ chatted with iraqi heavy metal band. told one I was a man. he believed me. asshole.

♥ chatted with New School students. lied about their ages (they're sooo much younger than we are). one is the spitting image of Carey Elwes.

♥ doorman wrestled a douchebag to the floor, and said douchebag was thrown out. trash talking ensued.

♥ tried to get a 20-year-old girl into bars, in vain. ahh youth.

♥ went to Iggys with New Schoolers. (i really want to break their camera)

♥ "[doorman], are you okay?"

♥ hannah won the scavenger hunt (damn you): a cigarette, a cough drop, change for a dollar. but i got the piece of gum.

♥ we didn't see a bulldog we could obnoxiously mistake for a collie nor a guy with a sports cap we could yell "go team" to...but we had a wonderful night!! (let's not even ruin it with talk of the hangover)

here are some silly pre- and post-birthday mac-pics.

it's been ages since...

...I've had a Gawker-worthy celeb siting. Last night, it was Mischa Barton, low and behold, at one of my LES brunch haunts. I noticed her because my date Liz kept ogling her feather skirt. Liz gave it the thumbs down--I gave it a thumbs-up, but did little birdies have to die to make it? :-( Liz and I had a loverly date, munching on beet and chicken salads, swooning over our hotter-than-Jude-Law waiter, swaying in the warm tawny light to what had to be a handpicked-by-me 80s mix. Liz giggled and said, "They've got your number." When "Africa" started playing, our jaws dropped and we sang along--not knowing or understanding the words. Here's the video--my first time seeing it, and not what I expected, though, in that predictable-8-member-80s-band-with-big-hair sort of way, maybe it is. There--I just referenced Mischa Barton, feather skirts, and the band Toto in one blog post. I just made your day, didn't I?

the blackest eye.

Black eyeliner is the one (make-up) item i'd want to have with me, say, on a deserted island. "But why would you need eyeliner on a deserted island?" you ask. Well, my dear, it's not about need, now is it? That black eyeliner can double as a make-shift inkpen, for which to write on a makeshift sign made of tree bark--HELP. SOS. SAVE ME...and wave in the air when a plane or ship glides by, thus, saving your life. So, the thing you wanted, became the thing you needed. Stop me now...lol.This is perhaps the blackest eye liner...and it doesn't smear. go out and get it. Urban Decay 24/7 (shade: Zero).

a dozen or so things...

...that make for a perfect saturday night.

1) A lovely, crazy girl named "granpa."
2) sephora.
3) blackest eye liner.
4) American Apparel.
5) figure skater dress (oh no!)
6) You've got a bruise on your back. No, it's cupping. Oh.
7) vintage boots.
8) joie de vivre. joie de vivre.
9) snow. snow. snow.
10) quesadillas and caesar salad. water with lemon please.
11) a dog in shoes. poor thing!
12) herbal medicine...................American Dad reruns. 12oz bag of popcorn. LOL. California Dreaming. Tiny Dancer. Last Christmas. Caribbean Queen. Smooze. Love Will Never Do Without You. LMAO. Susan Miller. Ben & Jerry's. Who draws the ice-cream art for Ben & Jerry's? A ride on the 1-train. Making faces at dogs. Now the D-train. Making faces at beautiful guy (his bike was in my way. what?! it was! *giggle*). Home. I Be Troubled. Baby Please Don't Go. Mannish Boy. Going Down Slow. Zzzzzzz.

bitter cold and disappointment.

today was one of those days. you know the kind where you have to double-wrap your scarf around your face, wear multiple layers under your coat, and would rather just let your cell phone ring than take off your gloves to answer it. yep, bitter bitter cold today. typing from my warm bedroom right now, i feel lucky to have a roof, albeit a small one, over my head.

now on to the disappointment. so, i kinda love coffee, and rachel invited me to a coffee cupping at Joe--think wine tasting, but only with coffee. So, of course i took her up on her offer--i'd never turn down FREE coffee. Now i'll rundown what this cupping consists of:
- a long lecture-style explanation of coffee aroma, flavor, body, after-taste, yadda yadda yadda
- a sniffing of the grounds, then a sniffing of the grounds after adding hot water, then a sniffing of the grounds and water while stirring with a spoon.
- Then after 15 or so people have sniffed the hell out of these 4 different blends of coffee, can you guess what comes next?
- A tasting of these same coffees that have been sniffed. And not separate cups for each of us--nope, we all had to slurp from the same group of mugs.
- Rachel and I stared at the mugs, then at eachother, then at the mugs, and voted unanimously against the tasting portion of the cupping, or shall we call it the "swap spit and germs with a dozen or so strangers." Oh well. So much for free coffee.

p.s. today, a tiny thought popped into my head. CANCEL YOUR BLOG. I have fully thought it through, so needless to say, I have to weigh out the pros and cons. To be honest, I think I'm a bit bored of reading my out-loud thoughts.

polka-dot pals drank belgian beer...

...in a crimson bar.

danced at persian office party in a stark white loft
blue strobe lights, naked brown baby.

found discarded bag of toy cars
purple pimp car, cherry Jag, busted black-and-white limo.

met two rosy lovers at black pub
called Redhead.

i need to get cable...

...for two reasons:

1) On Feb. 17, 2009, my roomie and I will have to get a DTV converter box.

2) The junk on network tv considerably outweighs the quality stuff. i.e. The World Music Awards have to be the lamest music awards show ever. They should rename the show, "We'll Give Awards To Whoever Shows Up to our Sucky Awards Show." And can someone tell me if that's beyonce's real hair? It looks natural--and besides, are weaves even popular anymore? Are they still called weaves? I'm so out of the loop. Anyway, she's still annoying as hell to me, and i'm soooo not okay with her portraying the great Etta, but call me shallow--I kinda like the hair.

p.s. this may be the only time i ever mention football or any other sport in my blogging. Plaxico means "Peaceful"--and not "Dumb Ass" like you may have thought. And, I've been wondering about this too.

a dog named ginger.

quick, unremarkable story.

last night, angelica and i are walking home from a dinner of pork, beans, steak enchiladas (truly the anti-date, just-go-straight-to-sleep-after-eating dinner), when we spot a sweet little pooch, like this one, seemingly lost--pacing up and down the sidewalk. Can dogs pace? Perhaps it was more like "wagging up and down the sidewalk," anyway, leash around her neck--but no one on the other end of it.

Angelica and I are both immediately smitten with the precious furball...and worry that, if left there all on her own in Chinatown, she might get "abducted" (no comment). Angelica grabs the leash--and we set out to either walk up and down the street ISO the mom/dad, or take her home for the night. Before we can cook up a hasty practical plan, we hear a woman screaming, "Ginger! Ginger!" This is both symbolic and ironic. Symbolic, because I've been wanting a dog--and for that reason--have signed up to be a volunteer dog-walker--and this is quite possibly a black-and-white sign that I'm ready for my very own pup. maybe. And ironic because, well, if you know me, you'll know why. So, I'm happy to report Ginger is safe and sound--or at least she was when we returned her to her mom.

ughh...she was such a cutie pie! you know those little caramel chewy candies with the white sugary middles? that's what Ginger reminds me off. So, in honor of Ginger...I give you, one of my favorite comic clips...

purr. meow.

Halloween is a big deal in NYC...and just a bit overwhelming. People are everywhere, draped in bloody gore and cleopatra makeup--or sometimes just a loin cloth--and you constantly have to doubletake to figure out if they're in costume or just their every-day freak-o-nature garb. You get my drift. Best costume of the night would have to be the home-made robots--you had to be there. Runners up include Bjork (in swan dress), the bee and the flower (they were a couple..awww), and the American Werewolf in Paris (an almost-perfect likeness).

Me on the other hand...I'm quite boring when it comes to dressing up. Every year I say "I'm gonna do something COOL...and every year, I'm either "a better version of myself" or a cat. so, here I am. ...i'm a cat. meow, purr. of course, i forgot to take pics before the party, and this was taken at about 2am...after a little too much catnip. So, I suppose I'm an alley cat. A forlorn, goth, alley cat. Smudged as it may be, I really think I could get used to the black lipstick... p.s. oooh, i forgot to plug Black Opal eye liner pencil in Licorice. It's seriously black! good stuff, and so much cheaper than that name-brand stuff. go buy it and report back.

soooo, i got new hair.

hair-over-the-eye hair. very veronica lake. i figured i should take pics while it's salon-fresh, because there's no way i can re-create this. p.s. the day i woke up, ...and was no longer in love with my ex-boyfriend was the greatest, sunniest, brightest, most satisfying day...almost ever. you didn't know me back then...that dumping pre-dates my blog. i was a mess. if i had blogged, it would have been un-readable. unbearable. an overflowing barrage of rain, and sadness and gloom....a diary of mope-ery. but on the day my best friend asked, "do you still miss him?" and i said "no," without a doubt and without explanation...ahhhhhhhh. i cannot express. i even questioned whether i had ever really been in love with him. thought, maybe i just enjoyed the chase, or the sex. Oh, but then i got sad. To think, "maybe I never loved" him would have meant I had never loved. That possibly I did not have the expanse to love....or that I do not know what it means to love. Oh well...there's still time, right?

a little bit of patience...

...and a very hot curling iron go a long way. every girl should be equipped with both. tonight, while packing for a weekend trip to dc to celebrate a dear friend's birthday, i paused for a moment to shake the dust off my conair instant heat. When i was in high school, some silly boy teased that I had "home-made curls," since I couldn't afford to go the salon. I think he cared more than I did though...I sort of liked my home-made curls--and so i let his taunts roll off my back. cute memory.

I figured I'd snap a few shots of my throwback, home-made curls. I'm channeling Kay from the Godfather. Kinda sad they'll be flattened and lop-sided by tomorrow. oh well.

oh, gosh, well this is more like it...

...a lil something to take my mind off my nutty-crazy banter. Will you look at what I got from Etoilee8 (btw E, I found Opening Cerermony, but have yet to go in.) Anyway thanks hun--I needed something to wipe away the dramatical-ness that has been my day!

1. Link back to the person who tagged you
2. Mention the rules on your blog
3. Tell about 6 unspectacular quirks of yours
4. Tag 6 following bloggers by linking to them
5. Leave a comment on each of the tagged bloggers blogs letting them know they've been tagged
6. You can now display this charming dalek image i created when tagged!

Here i go....MY QUIRKS (sheesh, where to start?!)

1. I'm addicted...ADDICTED to chap stick. I can't go to sleep at night w/o having a tube of chapstick on my nightstand. To loose my lip balm would send me over the edge. Tell me I'm not alone...

2. I love fried chicken and it's one of my gourmet specialties. But I will not eat it without honey drizzled on top. A perfectly good wing-and-thigh is dead to me if there's no honey in the house.

3. I'm a city-girl to the point of snobbery. I secretly, ignorantly think all people who live 50 miles outside of a major city are cheating themselves out of great food, culture, arts, and shopping. I know, I'm an idiot. or am i?

4. My purse often doubles as an emergency overnight/come-what-may feed bag. In addition to the normal purse necessities, I carry antiperspirant (tho i cannot spell it), a pocket knife, at least one band-aid, snacks of some sort (b/c you never know), my notebook, face cream, a vitamin or two, and vick's vapor rub (don't ask).

5. I'm obsessed with bulldogs. And my reasons are the obvious ones...b/c they're fat, awkward, top-heavy, sloppy, and appear to fart constantly. A co-worker said to me "If you chose guys the same way you choose dogs, I'd be perfect for you."

6. I have hair on my toes. We're not talking Frodo Baggins hair...just a couple strands. And I shave it, so you'd never know unless you read this blog. Okay, Asabi, Lex, Janelle, RedHotMama, Ariel, and Peas. Let's hear it!

i love this.

the 80s-centric, barely-there dance costumes, the too-hard, hip-popping dance-moves, the simple message pressed into an over-produced, saxophone-heavy song. and the vocals...pure perfection :-P If you ask me, the guy in the first 2 seconds of the clip stole the show. I want more of him! watch it now damnit.

i believe in real, ache-for-me love.

in spite of my past flops and mistakes in the field. the kind that sometimes make you feel just a little bit unstable. And i always look for little honest-to-goodness, geniune displays of it. Tonight, on my way to Whole Foods for Amy's soup (yum-o!)--to feed my untimely cold/bug/flu--I was walking behind an old Chinese couple...maybe in their 60s, both a bit shriveled and teeny tiny. The hubby (or boyfriend), wrapped his arm about his honey, and then grabbed her bottom...and held his hand their for several seconds. I giggled like a 6th grader--it was damn near pornographic, but cute as hell! And it just felt REAL and right to me...I'm sure it felt right to him too :-P

happy weekend folks!